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.

Beware: this article uses spellings which have had foreign influence reverted.

The Writ
In þe summer when þe scaws were , and þe leafes were big and long, it was merry in þe fair woods to hear þe fules' song.

To see þe draw to þe dale, and from þe hie hills flee, to scadow þemselfes in green leafes under þe greenwood tree.

It befell on Whitsun early on a morning. Þe fair sun abof did scine, and þe merry birds did sing.

"Þis is a merry morning," said Littel John, "by him who died on a tree, a more merry man þan I lifs not in Cristianity."

"Pluck up yewer heart, my dear lord," Littel John said, "and see þat it is a full fair time, þis morning in whice we tread."

"Yea, but one þing me," said Robin, "and does my heart muce woe. Þat I may not know earnest day, to mass nor go."

"It has been a fortnite and more," he said, "sinse my I did see. Today I will go to Nottingham wiþ þe mite of mild Mary."

Þen spoke Muce, þe miller's son, may for him good þings. "Take twelfe of yewer bold yeomen, well weaponed, by yewer side. He who would haf yew slain, would dare not þose twelfe ."

"Of all my merry men," said Robin, "I want no utelaw, but Littel John to bare my bow, until I coose to draw."

"Yew scall bare yewer own," said Littel John, "lord, and I will bare mine, and we will scoot for a penny, under þe greenwood lind."

"I will not scoot for a penny." said Robin, "Indeed, Littel John, I say to þee, for efery penny þue scootest for, indeed I will stake þee þree."

Þus þey scot forþ, þese two yeomen, boþ at busc and stone, til Littel John won of his lord, fife scillings for and.

A  fell between þem, as þey went by þe way. Littel John said he had won fife scillings, and Robin Hood said scortly "nay".

Robin Hood called Littel John a liar, and smote him wiþ his hand. Littel John waxed wroþ þerewiþ, and pulled ute his brite.

"Were yew not my lord," said Littel John, "yew would be hit full sore. Get yewerself a man where yew will, for yew haf me no more."

Þen Robin went to Nottingham, himself mourning alone, and Littel John to merry scerwood, þe paþs he knew eace one.

When Robin came to Nottingham, I will tell yew what happened þen, he bade to God and mild Mary to bring him ute sundly again.

He went into Hallow Mary's curce, and knelt dune before þe. All who were wiþin þe curce beheld well Robin Hood.

Beside him stood a big headed monk, I bead to God woe to him be. For cwickly he Robin, as soon as he did see.

Ute þe door þe monk ran, full swift and. All þe gates of Nottingham he made to be eace one.

"Rise up," þe monk said, "yew prude sceriff, yewerself and make yewerself . I haf spotted þe king's, forsooþ he is in þis tune."

"I haf spotted þe sneaking warry, as he stood þere at mass. It will be yewer ," said þe monk, "If he scould slip yewer grasp."

"Þis lordswike's name is Robin Hood, under þe greenwood lind. He onse stole from me a hundred punds, it scall nefer be ute of my mind."

Up þen rose þis prude sceriff, and swiftly made himself. Many were þe weaponed men who to þe curce wiþ him did fare.

Þe doors þey þorowly sparred, wiþ stafes in full good ; "Wellaway," said Robin Hood, "nue miss I Littel John."

Þen Robin took ute a twohanded sword, þat hanged dune by his knee. Where þe sceriff and his men stood þickest Þiþerward would he be.

Þrise at þem he ran þen, forsooþ as I nue say, and wunded many a weaponed man, and twelfe he slew þat day.

His sword upon þe sceriff's head, wissly it broke in two. "Þe smiþ þat made yew," said Robin, "I bead God work him woe."

"For nue am I weaponless," said Robin, "wellaway, against my will. But if I seek to flee hense from, I know þey will me kill."

(leaf missing, Robin is cot, þe merry men hear þe news)

Some fell in swooning as if þey were dead, and lay still as any stone. None of þem were in þeir mind, none but Littel John.

"Let by yewer wailing," said Littel John, "for his lofe, Crist who died on a tree. Ye who scould be duty men, it is a great scame to see."

"Ure lord was hard bestood and yet ran not away. Pluck up yewer hearts, and leafe þis moaning, and hearken what I say."

"He has Ure Lady many a day, and will again, þe time is nie. Þerefore I trust in her, no wicked deaþ scall he die."

"Þerefore be glad and let þis mourning go by. I scall deal wiþ þat wicked monk, wiþ þe mite of mild Mary, when I meet him," said Littel John "we will go but we two".

"Look þat ye keep well ure under þe small leafes, and spare none of þis, þat þroute þis dale weafes."

Forþ þen went þese yeomen two, Littel John and Muce on þe fare. And looked on Muce's huse, þe hieway lay full near.

Littel John stood at a window, and looked forþ from an upper room. Þere he saw þe monk come riding by, and wiþ him a littel.

"By my ," said Littel John to Muce, "I can tell þis tiding is good. I see where þe monk comes riding, I know him by his wide hood."

"Whense come ye?" said Littel John, "tell us tidings, whatefer ye can say, of a wicked utelaw, who was taken yesterday."

"He stole from me and my fellows boþ, twenty marks he did gain. If þat wicked utelaw be taken, forsooþ we would boþ be ."

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

"I bead to God to þank yew," said Littel John, "and we will when we may. We will go wiþ yew, wiþ yewer, and bring yewer on yewer way."

"For Robin Hood has many a wild fellow, I tell yew nue of þat bane. If þey knew ye rode þis way, in leef ye would be slain."

As þey went talking by þe way, þe monk and Littel John, John took þe monk's horse by þe head, full soon and anon.

John took þe monk's horse by þe head, forsooþ as I nue say. So did Muce þe littel goom, so he could not flee away.

By þe þroat of þe hood John pulled þe monk dune. John was not of him agast, he let him fall on his crune.

Littel John who was so gnorny, drew ute his sword in one swoop. Þe monk saw he would be killed, ludely for he did.

"He was my lord," said Littel John, "who yew haf brot suce . Yew will nefer see ure king, nor tell him yewer last tale."

John smote off þe monk's head, no longer would he dwell. So did Muce þe littel goom, for fear þat he would tell.

Þere þey buried þem boþ, in neiþer moss nor. And Littel John and Muce as took þe monk's  to þe king.

Littel John came unto þe king, he knelt dune upon his knee. "God yew, my lord, Yesoo nere yew and see."

"God nere yew, my king." To speak John was full bold. He gafe him þe errands in his hand, þe king did þem unfold.

Þe king read þe errands anon, and said, ", þere was nefer yeoman in merry England I longed so sore to see."

"Where is þe monk who þese scould haf brot?" þat þe king did say. "By my trewþ," said Littel John, "he died along þe way."

Þe king gafe Muce and Littel John twenty punds and þen, made þem yeomen of þe þrone, and bade þem go again.

He gafe John þe seal in hand, to þe sceriff for him to bare, to bring Robin Hood to him, and no man do him.

John took his leafe of þe king, forsooþ as I nue say, Þe next day to Nottingham To take he þe way.

When John came to Nottingham þe gates were sparred eace one. John called up to þe porter, and he answered back anon.

"What is þe ," asked Littel John, "yew spar þe gates so fast?" " Robin Hood," said þe porter, "nue in deep goal he is cast."

"John and Muce and Will scaþelock, forsooþ as I nue say, þey slew þe men upon þe walls, and fite us here efery day."

John after þe sceriff, and soon he him fund; he opened þe king's , and handed it on dune.

When þe sceriff saw þe king's seal, he did off his hood anon. "Where is þe monk þat bore þe errands?" He asked of Littel John.

"Þe king is so wiþ him," said Littel John, "forsooþ as I nue say, he has made him abbot of Westminster, A lord of þat abbey."

Þe sceriff did John , and gafe him wine of þe best. At nite þey went to þeir beds, and efery man to his rest.

When þe sceriff was asleep, drunken wiþ wine and ale, Littel John and Muce forsooþ fund þe way to þe cwartern.

John called up þe cwarternkeeper, and bade him rise anon. "Robin Hood has broken ute, and from it he is gone."

Þe porter rose anon, as soon as he heard John call. Littel John was ready wiþ a sword, and stabbed him þro þe wall.

"Nue I am cwarternkeeper," said John, and took þe keys in his hands. He tread þe way to Robin Hood, and freed him from his bands.

He gafe Robin a good sword, his head þerewiþ to keep. And þere where þe walls were lowest, anon dune did þey leap.

By þen þe cock began to crow, þe day began to spring. Þe sceriff fund þe cwarternkeeper dead, so þe tune bell he did ring.

He made a roop þroute all þe tune, telling boþ yeoman and knafe. Whoefer brot him Robin Hood, his he scould haf.

"For I dare nefer," said þe sceriff, "come before ure king. For if I do I know wissly, þat he will haf me hang."

Þe sceriff sot þroute all Nottingham, boþ by roads and by. But Robin was in merry Scerwood, as lite as a leaf on lind.

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

"I haf done yew a good wharft, forsooþ as I nue say. I haf brot yew under þe greenwood lind. Farewell, and haf good day."

"Nay, by my trewþ," said Robin, "so scall it nefer be. I make yew þe lord of all my men and me."

"Nay, by my trewþ," said Littel John, "so scall it nefer be. But let me be yewer fellow, noþing else I care to be."

Þus John got Robin ute of cwartern, indeed from þat bane. When his men saw him whole and sund, forsooþ þey were full fain.

Þey filled in wine and were glad, under þe leafes of þe dale. And þey ate pasties of hartmeat, whice were good wiþ þeir ale.

Þen word came to þe king hue Robin Hood was gone. And hue þe sceriff of Nottingham dared nefer to look him upon.

Þen bespake þe comely king in an anger hie: "Littel John has þe sceriff, in leef so has he I."

"Littel John has swiked us boþ, And þat full well I see. Or else þe sceriff of Nottingham hiely hung scould he be."

"I made þem yeomen of þe þrone, and gafe þem fee wiþ my hand. I gafe þem ," said þe king, "þroute all merry England."

"I gafe þem griþ," þen said þe king, "I say, so mot I þee. suce a yeoman as he is one, in all England are not þree."

"He is trew to his lord, I say, by sweet Hallow John. He lofes better Robin Hood þen he does us eace one."

"Robin Hood is efer bund to him, boþ in street and stall. Speak no more of þis business, but John has swiked us all."

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