Robin Hood and þe Monk

This is an Anglish translation of Robin Hood and the Monk, a fifteenth century ballad. I've taken liberties to make it more comprehensible and to keep some of the lines rhyming.

https://d.lib.rochester.edu/teams/text/robin-hood-and-the-monk

The Writ
In þe summer hƿen þe scaƿs ƿere , And þe leafs ƿere great and long, It ƿas merry in þe fair ƿoods To here þe fules song.

To see þe draƿ to þe dale, And from þe hige hills flee, To scadoƿ emselfs in green leafs Under þe greenƿood tree.

It befell on Hƿitsun Early on a morning. Þe fair sun abuf did scine, And þe merry birds did sing.

"Þis is a merry morning," said Littel John, "By him hƿo died on a tree, A more merry man þan I Lifs not in Cristianity."

"Pluck up geƿer hart, my dear lord," Littel John said, "And see þat it is a full fair time, Þis morning in hƿic ƿe tread."

"Gea, but one þing me," said Robin, "And does my hart muc ƿoe. Þat I may not knoƿ ernest day, To mass nor go."

"It has bene a fortnigt and more," he said, "Sins my I did see. Today I ƿill go to Nottingham Ƿiþ þe migt of mild Mary."

Þen spoke Muc, þe millers son, May for him good þings. "Take tƿelf of geƿer bold geomen, Ƿell ƿepponed, by geƿer side. He hƿo ƿuld haf geƿ slain, Ƿuld dare not þose tƿelf ."

"Of all my merry men," said Robin, "I ƿant no utelaƿ, But Littel John to bare my boƿ, Until I ceese to draƿ."

"Yeƿ scall bare geƿer oƿn," said Littel John, "Lord, and I ƿill bare mine, And ƿe ƿill scote for a penny, Under þe greenƿood lind."

"I ƿill not scote for a penny." said Robin, "Indeed, Littel John, I say to þee, For efery penny þue scotes for, Indeed I ƿill stake þee þree."

Þus hy scot forþ, þese tƿo geomen, Boþ at busc and stone, Til Littel John ƿon of his lord, Fife scillings for and.

A  fell betƿene em, As hy ƿent by þe ƿay. Littel John said he had ƿon fife scillings, And Robin Hood said scortly "nay".

Robin Hood clept Littel John a liar, And smote him ƿiþ his hand. Littel John ƿaxed ƿroþ þereƿiþ, And pulled ute his brigt.

"Ƿere geƿ not my lord," said Littel John, "Geƿ ƿuld be hit full sore. Get geƿerself a man hƿere geƿ ƿill, For geƿ haf me no more."

Þen Robin ƿent to Nottingham, Himself mourning alone, And Littel John to merry Scerƿood, Þe paþs he kneƿ eac one.

Hƿen Robin came to Nottingham, I ƿill tell geƿ hƿat happened þen, He bade to God and mild Mary To bring him ute sundly agen.

He ƿent into Halloƿ Marys circ, And knelt dune before þe. All hƿo ƿere ƿiþin þe circ Beheld ƿell Robin Hood.

Beside him stode a great headed monk, I bid to God ƿoe to him be. For cƿickly he Robin, As sone as he did see.

Ute þe door þe monk ran, Full sƿift and. All þe gates of Nottingham He made to be eac one.

"Rise up," þe monk said, "geƿ prude sceriff, geƿerself and make geƿerself . I haf spotted þe kings, Forsoþe he is in þis tune."

"I haf spotted þe sneaking ƿarry, As he stode þere at mass. It ƿill be geƿer ," said þe monk, "If he sculd slip geƿer grasp."

"Þis lordsƿikes name is Robin Hood, Under þe greenƿood lind. He ones stole from me a hundred punds, It scall nefer be ute of my mind."

Up þen rose þis prude sceriff, And sƿiftly made himself. Many ƿere þe ƿepponed men Hƿo to þe circ ƿiþ him did fare.

Þe doors hy þorougly sparred, Ƿiþ stafes in full good ; "Ƿellaƿay," said Robin Hood , "Nu miss I Littel John."

Þen Robin ttook ute a tƿohanded sƿord, Þat hanged dune by his knee. Hƿere þe sceriff and his men stode þickest Þiþerƿard ƿuld he be.

Þrise at em he ran þen, Forsoþe as I nu say, And ƿunded many a ƿepponed man, And tƿelf he sleƿ þat day.

His sƿord upon þe sceriffs head, Ƿissly it broke in tƿo. "Þe smiþ þat made geƿ," said Robin, "I bid God ƿork him ƿoe."

"For nu am I ƿepponless," said Robin, "Ƿellaƿay, agenst my ƿill. But if I seke to flee hens from, I knoƿ hy ƿill me kill."

LEFFE MISSING ⁘ ROBIN IS CAUGT ⁘  ÞE MERRY MEN HERE ÞE ILL TIDINGS

Sum fell in sƿoning as if hy ƿere ded, And lay still as any stone. None of em ƿere in her mind, None but Littel John.

"Let by geƿer ƿailing," said Littel John, "For his luf, Crist hƿo died on a tree. Ge hƿo sculd be duty men, It is a great scame to see."

"Ure lord ƿas hard bestode And get ran not aƿay. Pluck up geƿer harts, and leaf þis moning, And harken hƿat I say."

"He has Ure Lady many a day, And ƿill agen, þe time is nige. Þerefore I trust in her, No ƿicked deaþ scall he die."

"Þerefore be glad And let þis mourning go by. I scall dele ƿiþ þat ƿicked monk, Ƿiþ þe migt of mild Mary, Hƿen I mete him," said Littel John "Ƿe ƿill go but ƿe tƿo".

"Look þat ge keep ƿell ure Under þe small leafs, And spare none of þis, Þat þrugeute þis dale ƿaefs."

Forþ þen ƿent þese geomen tƿo, Littel John and Muc on þe fare. And looked on Mucces huse, Þe higeƿay lay full nere.

Littel John stode at a ƿindoƿ, And looked forþ from an upper rome. Þere he saƿ þe monk cum riding by, And ƿiþ him a littel.

"By my ," said Littel John to Muc, "I can tell þis tiding is good. I see hƿere þe monk cums riding, I knoƿ him by his ƿide hode."

"Hƿens cum ge?" said Littel John, "Tell us tidings, hƿatefer ge can say, Of a ƿicked utelaƿ, Hƿo ƿas taken gesterday."

"He stole from me and my felloƿs boþ, Tƿenty marks he did gain. If þat ƿicked utelaƿ be taken, Forsoþe ƿe ƿuld boþ be ."

"So did he me," said þe monk, "Of a hundred punds and more. I laid þe first hand upon him, Ge may þank me þerefore."

"I bid to God to þank geƿ," said Littel John, "And ƿe ƿill hƿen ƿe may. Ƿe ƿill go ƿiþ geƿ, ƿiþ geƿer, And bring geƿer on geƿer ƿay."

"For Robin Hood has many a ƿild felloƿ, I tell geƿ nu of þat bane. If hy kneƿ ge rode þis ƿay, In leffe ge ƿuld be slain."

As hy ƿent talking by þe ƿay, Þe monk and Littel John, John took þe monks hors by þe head, Full sone and anon.

John took þe monks hors by þe head, Forsoþe as I nu say. So did Muc þe littel gum, So he culd not flee aƿay.

By þe þrote of þe hode John pulled þe monk dune. John ƿas not of him agast, He let him fall on his crune.

Littel John hƿo ƿas so gnorny, Dreƿ ute his sƿord in one sƿope. Þe monk saƿ he ƿuld be killed, Ludely for he did.

"He ƿas my lord," said Littel John, "Hƿo geƿ haf brougt suc . Geƿ ƿill nefer see ure king, Nor tell him geƿer last tale."

John smote off þe monks head, No longer ƿuld he dƿell. So did Muc þe littel gum, For fere þat he ƿuld tell.

Þere hy buried em boþ, In neiþer moss nor. And Littel John and Muc as Took þe monks  to þe king.

Littel John came unto þe king, He knelt dune upon his knee. "God geƿ, my lord, Jesu nere geƿ and see."

"God nere geƿ, my king." To speke John ƿas full bold. He gafe him þe errands in his hand, Þe king did em unfold.

Þe king red þe errands anon, And said, ", þere ƿas nefer geoman in merry England I longed so sore to see."

"Hƿere is þe monk hƿo þese sculd haf brougt?" Þat þe king did say. "By my treƿþ," said Littel John, "He died along þe ƿay."

Þe king gafe Muc and Littel John Tƿenty punds and þen, Made em geomen of þe þrone, And bade em go agen.

He gafe John þe sele in hand, To þe sceriff for him to bare, To bring Robin Hood to him, And no man do him.

John took his leaf of þe king, Forsoþe as I nu say, Þe next day to Nottingham To take he þe ƿay.

Hƿen John came to Nottingham Þe gates ƿere sparred eac one. John clept up to þe porter, And he ansƿered back anon.

"Hƿat is þe ," asked Littel John, "Geƿ spar þe gates so fast?" " Robin Hood ," said þe porter, "Nu in depe {{over|imprisonment|haft} he is þroƿn."

"John and Muc and Ƿill scaþelock, Forsoþe as I nu say, Hy sleƿ þe men upon þe ƿalls, And fite us here efery day."

John after þe sceriff, And soon he him fund; He opened þe kings , And handed it on dune.

Hƿen þe sceriff saƿ þe kings sele, He did off his hode anon. "Hƿere is þe monk þat bore þe errands?" He asked of Littel John.

"Þe king is so ƿiþ him," said Littel John, "Forsoþe as I nu say, He has made him abbot of Ƿestminster, A lord of þat abbey."

Þe sceriff did John , And gafe him ƿine of þe best. At nigt hy ƿent to her beds, And efery man to his rest.

Hƿen þe sceriff ƿas aslepe, Drunken ƿiþ ƿine and ale, Littel John and Muc forsoþe Funde þe ƿay to þe cƿartern.

John clept up þe cƿarternkeeper, And bade him rise anon. "Robin Hood has broken ute, And from it he is gone."

Þe porter rose anon, As sone as he herd John clepe. Littel John ƿas reddy ƿiþ a sƿord, And stabbed him þruge þe ƿall.

"Nu I am cƿarternkeeper," said John, And took þe keys in his hands. He tread þe ƿay to Robin Hood , And freed him from his bands.

He gafe Robin a good sƿord, His head þereƿiþ to keep. And þere hƿere þe ƿalls ƿere loƿest, Anon dune did hy lepe.

By þen þe cock began to croƿ, Þe day began to spring. Þe sceriff funde þe cƿarternkeeper ded, So þe tune bell he did ring.

He made a rope þrugeute all þe tune, Telling boþ geoman and knafe. Hƿoefer brougt him Robin Hood, His he sculd haf.

"For I dare nefer," said þe sceriff, "Cum before ure king. For if I do I knoƿ ƿissly, Þat he ƿill haf me hang."

Þe sceriff sougt þrugeute all Nottingham, Boþ by rodes and by. But Robin ƿas in merry Scerƿood, As ligt as a leffe on lime.

Þen bespake good Littel John, To Robin Hood did he say: "I haf done þee a good from ill, Meed me hƿen geƿ may."

"I haf done geƿ a good hƿarft, Forsoþe as I nu say. I haf brougt geƿ under þe greenƿood lime. Fareƿell, and haf good day."

"Nay, by my treƿþ," said Robin, "So scall it nefer be. I make geƿ þe lord Of all my men and me."

"Nay, by my treƿþ," said Littel John, "So scall it nefer be. But let me be geƿer felloƿ, Noþing els I care to be."

Þus John got Robin ute of cƿartern, Indeed from þat bane. Hƿen his men saƿ him hƿole and sund, Forsoþe hy ƿere full fain.

Hy filled in ƿine and ƿere glad, Under þe leafs of þe dale. And hy ate pasties of hartmete, Hƿic ƿere good ƿiþ her ale.

Þen ƿord came to þe king Hu Robin Hood ƿas gone. And hu þe sceriff of Nottingham Dared nefer to look him upon.

Þen bespake þe cumly king In a ƿraþ hige: "Littel John has þe sceriff, In leffe so has he I."

"Littel John has sƿiked us boþ, And þat full ƿell I see. Or els þe sceriff of Nottingham Higely hung sculd he be."

"I made em geomen of þe kinsettel, And gafe em fee ƿiþ my hand. I gafe em ," said þe king, "Þrugeute all merry England."

"I gafe em griþ," þen said þe king, "I say, so mut I þee. Suc a geoman as he is one, In all England are not þree."

"He is treƿ to his lord, I say, by sƿete Halloƿ John. He lufs better Robin Hood Þen he does us eac one."

"Robin Hood is efer bunde to him, Boþ in strete and stall. Speke no more of þis bisiness, But John has sƿiked us all."

Þus ends þe tale of þe monk And Robin Hood. God, þat is efer a king, Bring us all to his bliss.