Stay and listen, everybody,

All that still are here.

Of Little John, the knight’s man,

Good mirth ye shall hear.

 

It was on a merry day

That young men would go shoot,

Little John strung his bow

And said he would go too.

 

Three times Little John shot about,

And each time he slit the wood.

The proud sheriff of Nottingham

By the target stood.

 

The sheriff swore a full great oath,

“By Him that died on a tree,

This man is the best archer

That ever I did see.

 

“Tell me now, strong young man,

What is thy name?

In what country were you born,

And where is your dwelling place?”

 

“In Holderness, sir, I was born.

That’s where I live still.

Men call me Reynold Greenleaf

When I’m in those hills.”

 

“Tell me, Reynold Greenleaf,

Will you live with me?

And every year I’ll give you

Twenty marks for your fee.”

 

“I have a master,” said Little John,

“A courteous knight is he.

If you get leave of him,

The better may it be.”

 

The sheriff got Little John

For twelve months from the knight,

And right away he gave him

A good strong horse to ride.

 

Now Little John is the sheriff’s man,

God help us all.

But always thought Little John

To square the old account.

 

“Now God help me,” said Little John,

“By my true loyalty,

I shall be the worst servant to him

That ever yet had he.”

 

It fell upon a Wednesday,

The sheriff a’hunting was gone,

And Little John lay in his bed

And was forgotten at home.

 

There he was fasting

Til it was past the noon.

“Good sir steward, I pray thee,

Give me my dinner soon.

           

“It’s a long time for Greenleaf

Fasting for to be.

Therefore, I pray thee, sir steward,

My dinner give to me.”

 

“You will never eat nor drink,” said the steward,

“Til my lord has come to town.”

“I make my vow to God,” said John,

“I’ll sooner crack your crown.”

 

The bottler was very uncourteous,

There he stood on the floor.

He started for the bottlery

And shut fast the door.

 

Little John gave the bottler such a tap

His back was nearly broke.

Though he lived a hundred years,

It’s the worst he’d ever know.

           

Little John kicked the door with his foot.

It went open well and fine,

And there he took a huge helping

Both of ale and wine.

 

“Since you won’t dine with me,” said Little John,

“I shall let you drink,

And though you live a hundred winters,

On Little John you shall think.”

 

Little John ate and Little John drank

As much as he could hold.

The sheriff had in his kitchen a cook,

A stout man and bold.

           

“I make my vow to God,” said the cook,

“You aren’t worth a piss

To live in any house

And eat like this.”

 

There he lent Little John

Good strokes three.

“I make my vow to God,” said John,

“Those strokes really liked me.

 

“You’re a bold, hearty man,

So it seems to me,

And before I leave this place

Better tried shall you be.”

 

Little John drew a good long sword.

The cook took another in hand.

They did not think a thought to flee,

But stiffly for to stand.

 

There they fought together

Two miles across the floor.

Neither one could hurt the other

For at least an hour or more.

 

“I make my vow to God,” said Little John,

“By my true loyalty,

You’re one of the best swordsmen

That ever I yet did see.

 

“If you can shoot a bow as well,                   

You should come with me to the woods,

And two times a year there

You can change your clothes.

           

“And every year, Robin Hood

Will give you twenty marks for your fee.”

“Put up thy sword,” said the cook,

“And fellows we will be.”

 

Then he fed Little John

The best parts of the doe.

Good bread and full good wine

They ate and drank also.

 

And when they had drank well,

Their pledges together they pledged

That very same night they would be with Robin

Among the greenwood hedge.

 

They went to the treasure house

As fast as they could have gone.

The locks that were of full good steel,

They broke them everyone.

 

They took away the silver vessel

And all that they could get.

Plates, goblets, and spoons —

Nothing did they forget.

 

They also took the good money,

Three hundred pounds and more,

And went straight to Robin Hood,

Up to the greenwood door.

 

“God save thee, my dear master,

And Christ save thee, too.”

And then said Robin to Little John,

“It’s good to see thee, too.

           

“And also that stout yeoman

Ye’ve brought along with thee.

What tidings now from Nottingham,

Little John, tell me.”

 

“Well, the proud sheriff is weeping

And sent these here by me:

His cook and all his silverware,

And three hundred pounds and three.”

 

“I make my vow to God,” said Robin,

“And to the Trinity,

It was never by his good will

These goods have come to me.”

 

Little John then and there

Thought of a shrewd plan.

He gathered all his will,

And five miles into the forest he ran.

 

Then he met the proud sheriff

Hunting with hounds and horn.

Little John was full courteous

And knelt down before him.

 

“God save thee, my dear master,

And Christ save thee, too.”

“Reynold Greenleaf,” said the sheriff.

“What have you been up to?”

 

“I’ve been in this forest,” said Little John.

“A fair sight I did see.

It was one of the fairest sights

That ever appeared to me.

           

“Yonder I saw a right fair hart,

His color is of green.

Seven score of deer in a herd

Follow where he leads.

 

“Their antlers are so sharp, master,

At least sixty or more,

That I dare not shoot at them

For fear I might be gored.”

 

“I make my vow to God,” said the sheriff,

“That sight I’d like to see.”

“Get moving, my dear master,

Right now, and come with me.”

 

The sheriff rode, and Little John,

On foot he was full smart.

And when they came before Robin,

“Lo, sir, here is the master hart.”

 

Still stood the proud sheriff.

A sorry man was he.

“You aren’t worth much, Reynold Greenleaf.

You’ve betrayed me.”

 

“I make my vow to God,” said Little John,

“Master, you are to blame.

I was kept from my dinner

When I was at your home.”

 

Soon they sat down to supper,

Served on a silver plate.

When the sheriff saw his vessel,

For sorrow he could not eat.

           

“Cheer up,” said Robin Hood,

“Sheriff, for charity

And for the love of Little John,

Thy life I grant to thee.”

 

When they had eaten well,

The day was all but gone.

“Take off the sheriff’s shoes and socks,”

Said Robin to Little John.

 

His tunic and his fur-collared cloak

They took from the sheriff then

And gave him a green mantle

To wrap his body in.

 

Robin commanded his strong young men

Under the greenwood tree

That they should sleep in the same clothes

So the sheriff could see.

 

All night lay the proud sheriff

In his britches and his shirt.

No wonder it was in the greenwood

His sides began to hurt.

 

“Cheer up, sheriff,” said Robin,

“For by God’s charity,

This how we live

Under the greenwood tree.”

 

“This is a harder way to live,” said the sheriff,

“Than any hermit or friar.

For all the gold in merry England

I wouldn’t stay in these briars.”

           

“For the next twelve months,” said Robin,

“You shall dwell here with me.

I shall teach you, proud sheriff,

An outlaw how to be.”

 

“Ere I stay here another night,” said the sheriff,

“Robin, I beg you,

Cut off my head instead tomorrow

And I will forgive you.

 

“Let me go,” then said the sheriff,

“For saints’ charity,

And I’ll be the best friend

You ever did see.”

 

“You shall swear me an oath,” said Robin,

“On my bright sword,

You will never wait to waylay me

By land nor by water.

 

“And if you find any of my men

By day or by night,

Upon thy oath, ye shall swear

To help them all you might.”

 

Now the sheriff has sworn his oath

And homeward made his speed.

He was as full of the greenwood

As a berry is of seed.

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