Robin Hood and þe Potter

This is an Anglish translation of Robin Hood and the Potter, a tale written down around 1500 in the manuscript Cambridge E.e.4.35. 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
 FIT I 

In summer, when þe leafes spring, Þe blossoms on efery , So merry do þe birds sing In woods merry

Harken, good yeomen, Comely, kind, and good, One of þe best þat efer bore a bow His name was Robin Hood.

Robin Hood was þe yeomans name, Þat was boþ kind and free, For þe luf of ure lady, All women he.

But as þe good yeoman stood one day, Among his merry men free, He was aware of a potter, Who came drifing ofer þe lea.

"Yonder comes a prude potter," said Robin, "Who long has fared by ure feelds, He was nefer so kind a man One penny for toll to yeeld."

"I met him at Wentbridge," said Littel John, "May efil haf wiþ him its way! Þree strokes he me gafe, Still to my sides þey.

I stake forty shillings," said Littel John, "I will it in whole, To any man among us all Who can make him yeeld þe toll."

"Here is forty shillings," said Robin, "And more if dare say, I shall work þat prude potter, A toll to me shall he lay."

Þe shillings were set aside, Under of yeomen þey were laid, Robin bade þe potter stand still, When before him Robin.

Hands upon his horse he laid, And bade þe potter stand full still, Þe potter shortly to him said, "Fellow, what is þy will?"

"For þree years and more, potter," Robin said, "Þue hast fared by þis way, Yet þue were nefer so kind a man, One penny of toll to lay."

"What is þy name," asked þe potter, "For toll þue ask of me?" "Robin Hood is my name, A shall þue leafe me."

"A wed I will not leafe," said þe potter, "Nor toll will I lay, Away þy hand from my horse! Or I will do þee efil, ."

Þe potter to his he went, To þe back did he creep, A good twohanded staff þere ute he , Before Robin did he leap.

Robin ute wiþ a sword bent, A in tow, Þe potter to Robin went, And said, "Fellow, let my horse go."

Togeþer þen went þese two yeomen, It was a good site to see, Þereof laffed Robins men, Þere þey stood under a tree.

Littel John to his fellow he said, "Yond potter will stiffly stand" Þe potter, wiþ an awkward stroke, Smote þe sheeldock ute of his hand.

And Robin mite get it again, His sheeldock at his feet, Þe potter in þe neck him took, To þe grund soon he.

Þat Robins men did see, As þey stood under a bue, "Let us help ure lord," said Littel John, "Else his life he may ."

Þese bold yeomen wiþ a , To þeir lord did þey run. Littel John to his lord said, "Who has þe staking won?"

"Shall I haf þy forty shillings," asked Littel John, "Or ye, lord, shall haf mine?" "If þey were a hundred," said Robin "I say, þey are all þine."

"It is full littel kindness," said þe potter, "As I haf heard wise men say, If an yeoman comes drifing ofer þe land And   him of his way."

By my, þue says , said Robin, "Þy words are good yeomanhood, And þue drife forþ efery day, Be by me þue nefer should."

"I will ask þee, good potter, A fellowship will þue hafe? Yeafe me þy cloþing, and þue shalt haf mine, I will go to Nottingham."

"I þereto," said þe potter, "Þue shalt find me a fellow good, But þue can sell my pots well, Come as þue yeed."

"Nay, by my troþ," said Robin, "And þen I my head, If I bring any pots ayen, "And any  will  buy."

Þen spake Littel John, And all his fellows , "Lord, be well aware of þe sheriff of Nottingham, For he is littel ure frend."

"Þro þe help of ure lady, Fellows, let me alone. " said Robin "To Nottingham will I go.

Robin went to Nottingham, Þese pots for to sell, Þe potter abode wiþ Robins men, Þere he feared no efil.

Þo Robin drofe on his way, So merry ofer þe land, Here is more, and after is to say, Þe best is behind.

 FIT II 

When Robin came to Nottingham, Þe sooþ if I should say, He set up his horse anon, And gafe him oats and hay.

In þe midst of þe tune, Þere he showed his ware; "Pots! Pots!" he shuted full soon, "Haf for þe !"

Rite against þe sheriffs gate, To sell goods did he dare, Wifes and widows abute him drew, And many bot fast his ware.

Still "Pots, great !" shuted Robin, "I would hate to leafe þese to stand". And all who saw him sell, Said he had been no potter long.

Þe pots þat were worþ pense fife, He sold þem for pense þree, said man and wife, "Yonder potter shall nefer ."

Þose Robin sold full fast, Until he had pots but fife, Up he took þem onto his And sent þem to þe sheriffs wife.

Þereof she was full , "Gramercy," said she, ", þen, When ye come to þis land ayen, I shall buy þe pots, so mot I þee.

Ye shall haf of þe best," said Robin, And sware be þe Trinity". Full kindly she began to speak to him, "Come eat wiþ þe sheriff and me."

"God, mercy" said Robin, "Yewer bidding shall be done." A maiden bore þe pots in, Robin and þe sheriffs wife followed.

When Robin into þe hall came, Þe sheriff soon he met. Þe potter knew of , And soon þe sheriff he gret.

"Lo, wie, what þis potter haþ yeafen yew and me, Fife pots small and great!" "He is full welcome," said þe sheriff, "Let us wash, and to meat."

As þey sat at þeir meat, In an aþel and glad mood, Two of þe sheriffs men began to speak Of a great stake.

Of a shooting mac, good and fair, Þat was laid ute þe oþer day, Of forty shillings, þe sooþ to say, Who should þis stake gain.

Still sat þis prude potter, Þus þen þout he, As I am a trew Cristen man, Þis shooting will I see.

When þey had fared of þe best, Wiþ bread and ale and wine, To þe þey made þem prest, Wiþ bows and bolts full fain.

Þe sheriffs men shot full fast, As bowmen þat were prow, Þere came none near þeir marks, By half a good shooters bow.

Still þen stood þe prude potter, Þus þen said he, "If I had a bow, by þe rood, A trew shot would yew see."

"Þue shall haf a bow," said þe sheriff, "Þe best þat þue will coose of þree, Þue seemst stalward and strong, shall þue be."

Þe sheriff bade a yeoman þat stood hem by, After bows to bring, Þe best bow þat þe yeoman brout, Robin set on a string.

"Nue shall I know if þue be any good, And pull it up to þy ear." said þe sheriff. "So god me help," said þe prude potter, "Þis is but rite weak gear."

To a Roben went, A good bolt ute he took, So nie on to þe mark he went, He missed not a foot.

Þey all shot a bow again, Þe sheriffs men and he, Off þe mark he would not miss, He cleft þe into þree.

Þe sheriffs men felt great shame Þe potter þe shooting won Þe sheriff laft and made good game And said, "Potter, þue art a man. Þue art worþy to bear a bow In any stead þat þue go."

"In my crat I haf a bow, For sooþ," he said, "one þat is good. In my crat is þe bow Þat gaf me Robin Hood."

"Knowest þue Robin Hode?" asked þe sheriff, "Potter, I bid yew tell me." "A hundred I haf shot wiþ him, Under his trysting tree." "I had a hundred punds," said þe sheriff, And sware by þe trinity, Þat þe wicked utelaw stood by me."

"And yew will follow my ," said þe potter, "And boldly go wiþ me, And tomorrow, before we eat bread, Robin Hood will we see."

"I will þee, said þe sheriff, "I swear by God my lord." Shooting þey stopped, and home þey went,  day's last meal was on þe.

 FIT III 

Upon þe morrow, when it was day, He busked himself forþ to ride, Þe potter his crat began to ready, And would not leafe behind.

He took leafe of þe sheriffs wife, And þanked her for eferyþing. "Goodwife, for my luf if yew will þis wear, I yeafe yew here a golden ring."

"Gramarsey," said þe wife, "Wie, God meed þee." Þe sheriffs heart was nefer so lite, Þe fair to see.

And when he came in to þe wold, Under þe leafes green, Birds þere sang on bues bold, It was great to see.

"Here it is merry to be," said Robin, "For a man þat had to spend, By my horn yew shall  If Robin Hood be here."

Robin set his horn to his muþe, And blew a blast þat was full good, Þat heard his men þat þere stood, For dune in þe wold. "I hear my lord blow," said Littel John, Þey ran as if þey were.

When þey to þeir lord came, Littel John would not. "Lord, hue haf yew fared in Nottingham? Hue haf yew sold yewer ware?"

"Yew, by my troþ, Littel John, Look þue, take no care, I haf brout þe sheriff of Nottingham For all ure ."

"He is full wellcome," said Littel John, "Þis tiding is full good." Þe sheriff had lever nar a hundred punds He had nefer seen Robin Hood.

"Had I known þat before, At Nottingham when we were, Þue should not come in fair wold Of all þese þusand years."

"Þat knew I well," said Robin, "I þank God þat yew be here, Þerefore shall yew leafe yewer horse wiþ us, And all yewer oþer gear."

"Þat feend may God forbid," "So to lose my goods." said þe sheriff, "Eiþer yew come on horse full hie, And home shall yew go on foot, And great well þy wife at home, Þe woman is full good."

"I shall her send a white palfrey, It treads as þe wind, Were it not for þe of yewer wife Of more sorrow should yew sing."

Þus fared away Robin Hood and þe sheriff, To Nottingham he took þe way, His wife fair welcomed him home, And to him began to say:

"Wie, hue haf yew fared in green wold? Haf yew brout Robin home?" "Goodwife, þe devil take him, boþ body and bone, I haf had a full great scorn."

"Of all þe goods þat I haf lade to green wold, He haþ taken it from me, All but þese fair palfreys, Þat he haþ sent to þee."

Wiþ þat she took up a lude laffing, And swore by him þat died on a tree. "Nue haf yew yeelded for all þe pots Þat Robin gafe to me.

"Nue yew haf come home to Nottingham. Yew shall haf good enue." Nue speak we of Robin Hood, And of þe potter under þe green bue.

"Potter, what were þy pots worþ To Nottingham þat I laid wiþ me?" "Þey were worþ þirteen shillings," said he, "So mot I þrife or þee, So muc could I haf had for þem, If I had been þere.

"Þue shall haf ten punds," said Robin, "Of fair and free, And whenever þue comest to green wold, Wellcome, potter, to me."

Þus fared off Robin, þe sheriff, and þe potter, Underneaþ þe greenwood tree. God show to Robin Hoods soul, And all good yeomanry.