Hood ballad, wherein the hero was brought into peril by his devout attendance upon mass, and which may be rightly placed in the class of contes devóts, or saint's legends. We have already expressed a doubt of the authenticity of the passage of Fordun, where mention is made of our hero; indeed, it has every appearance of being an interpolation, it only being found in one of the late manuscripts, and differing so much from that author's general manner. The name of Robin Hood is mentioned merely for the sake of introducing the story of this ballad, how in his retreat in Barnisdale he heard mass regularly every day, how in the midst of his devotions, he was one day warned of the approach of the sheriff and his officers; how he disdained to retreat until the holy service was ended—and how, for his piety, an easy victory was given him over his too numerous enemies, in consequence of which he ever afterwards held the clergy in a special esteem.

The second ballad, apparently, in point of antiquity which has been preserved, occurs also in a manuscript of the Public Library of the University of Cambridge, marked E e. 4, 35, written not, as Ritson imagined, in the reign of Henry the Seventh, but in that of Henry the Sixth, as appears by a memorandum on one page, setting forth the expenses of the feast on the marriage of the King with Margaret :"Thys ys exspences off fflesche at the mariage off my ladey Marg'et, that sche had owt off Eynglonde," &c. The orthography is rude, and the dialect would seem to be that of some one of our midland counties. It would appear, too, by the blunders with which it abounds, to have been taken down from recitation.

In this ballad, Robin Hood is represented as visiting the sheriff in the disguise of a potter, to whom he had given his own garments. Robin carried his ware to Nottingham, where he put up his horse, and cried "Pots! Pots!" in the midst of the town, right opposite the sheriff's gate. He sold his pots quickly, because he gave for threepence what was worth fivepence, and when he had but five left, he sent them as a present to the sheriff's wife. In return for this courtesy, the pretended potter was invited to dine with

the sheriff, who received him kindly, and during the dinner mention was made of a great shooting match for forty shillings, which was soon to be tried. The potter went to the shooting, and, borrowing a bow of the sheriff, proved himself more skilful in its use than the sheriff's men. He then took a bow from his cart, which he said had been given him by Robin Hood, on which the sheriff demanded if he knew the out-law, and if he would lead him to where he might be found. The potter immediately offered to be his guide, and on the morrow they travelled together towards the forest, where the birds were singing on the branches.

"And when he cam yn to the fforeyst,

Berdys there sange on bowhes prest,
Yender (under) the leffes grene,

Het was gret goy (joy) to se. 'Here het ys merey to be,' sayde Roben, For a man that had hawt (anything) to spende.

Be may horne he (ye) schall awet,

Yef (if) Roben Hode be here.'"'

At the sound of Robin's horn, Little

John and his companions hastened to the spot, welcomed the sheriff, and, before he left them, deprived him of other gere." his horse and of his

Hither you came on horse," said Robin, who had now thrown aside his assumed character, "and home you shall go on foot. Greet well the good woman your wife: I send her, as a present, a white palfrey, which ambles as the wind.

For her sake, you shall receive no further harm." The sheriff glad to escape, carried home the message to his wife:

"With that she toke op a lowde lawhyng,

And swhare, be hem that deyed on tre, 'Now haffe yow payed ffor all the pottys

That Robin gaffe to me.'"'

There is preserved at Paris a curious and valuable Norman poem of the beginning of the thirteenth century, which has been lately published, recounting the deeds of Eustace the monk,* a notable Boulonois outlaw and pirate, who was engaged in the wars between our King John and his barons. It is extremely interesting to us, as proving how common at that period were the kind of stories which formed

*See our vol. III. p. 31 (Jan. 1835.)

the material of our Robin Hood ballads. The same stratagems, which outwitted the sheriff and his men, were used by Eustace to deceive the count of Boulogne. Eustace once adopted the disguise of a potter, whom he had compelled to exchange garments with him.

In a collection of songs and carols among the Sloane manuscripts in the British Museum, which an incidental coincidence has proved to be written in the Warwickshire dialect, perhaps nearly contemporary with the ballad last mentioned, is a song which appears to belong to our cycle, at least by its subject, if not by the person whose death it celebrates. It recounts the fate of a yeoman named Robin, who had gone to the green wood with his companion Gandeleyn "I herde a carpyng of a clerk

Al at 30ne wodes ende,
Of gode Robyn and Gandelayn

Was ther non other gynge;
Stronge thevys wern tho chylderin non,
But bowmen gode and hende;
He wentyn to wode to getyn hem fleych,
If God wold it hem sende."

Towards evening they met with half a hundred fallow deer, of which the fattest fell by Robin's arrow. Scarcely

had the deer fallen, when Robin himself was felled by an arrow from an unknown hand :

“Gandeleyn lokyd hym est and lokyd [west,

And sowt under the sunne,

He saw a lytil boy

He clepyn Wrennok of Doune;

A good bowe in his hand,

A brod arwe therine,

And fowre and xx goode arwis

Trusyd in a thrumme."

Wrennok,' it would appear, was one of the keepers of the forest, and he immediately challenged Gandeleyn. They let fly their arrows at each other, and the former was slain. The exultation of Gandeleyn on having thus revenged the death of his master, Robin, finishes his song :

"Now xalt (shalt) thu nover 3elpe, Wren-
At ale ne at wyn,
[nok,

That thu hast slawe goode Robyn
And his knave Gandeleyn;
Now xalt thu never 3elpe, Wrennok,

At wyn ne at ale,

That thu hast slawe goode Robyn And Gandeleyyn his knawe." GENT. MAG. VOL. VII.

These are all the genuine remains of the early Robin Hood cycle, which we at present possess. We come now to that singular production the "Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode," which was first printed by Wynkyn de Worde, at the latter end of the fifteenth century, and which would seem to be an attempt to string together some of the ballads that were then popular, into something like a consistent story. It is, in fact, an epic poem, and it is, as such, both perfect and beautiful.

One, perhaps, of the ballads which contributed to the formation of this poem, may have been simply the adventure of Robin Hood and the Knight, which here occupies the first and second 'fyttes,' and is made to run more or less through the whole. The knight was a character respected by the peasantry, and in the personage of the unfortunate and injured Sir Richard of the Lec, he probably drew forth as much commiseration from those to whom the adventure was sung in the village alehouse, as in the courtly halls of the nobles when he appeared in misfortune in the romances of Sir Cleges or Sir Amadas. They were all the same story, under different forms, in the one instance reduced to a popular shape. Robin sends Little John, Much, and Scathelock, to seek for a guest to dinner, having first adinjure husbandmen, good yeomen, or monished them that they should not knights and squires who were good fellows, but that their hostilities should be more particularly directed against bishops and archbishops, and, above all, against the sheriff of Nottingham : "But loke ye do no housbonde harme That tylleth with his plough; No more ye shall no good yeman

That walketh by grene-wode shawe, Ne no knyght, ne no squyer,

That wolde be a good felawe. These byshoppes and thyse archeby. shoppes,

Ye shall them bete and bynde; The hye sheryfe of Notynghame,

Hym holde in your mynde,"

The party went up to the Sayles' and Watling-street, and at length they espied a knight, all dreary and melancholy, riding by a 'derne strete' in Barnysdale. Little John addressed him courteously, and bade him to din. E

ner with his master, who, he said, had been long waiting for him. Robin Hood received the stranger with a hearty welcome, treated him with great respect, and they sat down together to a plentiful feast; after which, according to custom, the outlaws were proceeding to make him 'pay for his dinner.' But the Knight excused himself on the ground of having only ten shillings in his possession, which, on searching his coffer, was found to be true, and he told the history of his misfortunes.

"Within two or three yere, Robyn,' he sayd,

'My neyghbores well it kende, Foure hondreth pounde of good money Full wel than myght I spende. Now have I no good,' sayd the Knyght,

But my chyldren and my wyfe; God hath shapen such an ende,

Tyll God may amende my lyfe.' 'In what maner,' sayd Robyn,

'Hast thou lows thy ryches?' For my grete foly,' he sayd,

'And for my kindenesse. I had a sone, for soth, Robin,

That sholde have ben my eyre, When he was twenty wynter olde,

In felde wolde juste full feyre: He slewe a knyght of Lancastshyre, And a squyre bolde;

For to save hym in his ryght

My goodes beth sette and solde; My londes beth sette to wedde, (pledge) Untyll a certayne daye,

To a ryche abbot here besyde,

Of Saynt Mary abbey.'

[Robyn,

Robin generously lent the knight, for a year, four hundred pounds, the sum for which his estates had been pledged, and the outlaws clothed him in new habits becoming his profession, Little John being equipped as his squire. By this means the knight regained his lands, but his friendship

for the forester drew him into fresh misfortunes, till finally Robin and Sir Richard were both reconciled to the King.

The next ballad which seems to have been used in the compilation of this 'geste,' was the same story, a little varied in its details, with that of Robin and the potter, already noticed. Little John, in disguise, distinguished himself at an archery match held by the Sheriff of Nottingham. The sheriff, pleased with his skill, asked his name, was told that it was Reynaud Gre

nelefe,' and finally hired him for twenty marks a year. One day he was left at home, without provisions, which he took from the larder and buttery, in spite of the steward and butler, but the cook fought with him desperately, and in the end they agreed to go together to Robin Hood, which they did, taking with them the sheriff's plate and money, and were joyously received by the outlaws. Thereupon, Little John, still in his disguise as the sheriff's man, sought his master in the forest, where he was hunting, told him that he had just seen seven score of deer in a herd; and under pretence of leading him to the place, took him to Robin Hood, by whom he was feasted in his own plate, and was afterwards punished by being compelled to lye all night bare on the ground with the outlaws. Before he was allowed to depart, the sheriff swore solemnly that he would never injure Robin or

his men.

The third ballad used in the formation of this geste,' was one of Robin Hood and the monk. Little John, with Much and Scathelock, go up to the Sayles and Watling-street, and in Barnisdale meet with two black monks and their attendants. The latter were defeated, and one of the monks was brought to dine in the outlaw's 'lodge.' "Robyn dyde adowne his hode

The monk whan that he se;* The monk was not so curteyse,

His hode then let he be.

'He is a chorle, mayster, by dere worthy Then said Lytell Johan. [God,' 'Thereof no force,' sayd Robyn,

For curteysy can he none.'"' Robin called together his men, and compelled the monk to join them at their meal. After dinner the outlaw, naturally enough, inquired after the monk's money :

"What is in your cofers?' sayd Robyn, Trewe than tell thou me.'

Syr,' he sayd, twenty marke,

Al so mote I the.' (as I may thrive.) "Yf there be no more,' sayd Robyn,

'I wyll not one peny; Yf thou hast myster (need) of ony more, Syr, more I shall lende to the ; And yf I fynde more,' sayd Robyn,

I wys thou shalte it for-gone (lose); For of thy spendynge sylver, monk, Therof wyll I ryght none.

i. e. When he saw the monk.

"Full curteysly Robyn gan say,

Syr, have this for your spendyng,

We shall mete another day.'

'Gramercy,' then sayd our Kynge.

'But well the greteth Edwarde our Kynge,
And sent to the his seale,
And byddeth the com to Notyngham,
Both to mete and mele.'

He toke out the brode tarpe,
And sone he lete hym se;
Robyn coud his courteysy,

And set hym on his kne.

'I love no man in all the worlde So well as I do my Kynge, Welcome is my lordes seale;

And, monke, for thy tydynge,

Syr Abbot, for thy tydynges,

To day thou shalt dyne with me, For the love of my Kynge,

Under my trystell tre.'"' Accordingly, he led the abbot to the table, and, at the sound of his horn,

seven score of his men came on a rowe.'

"All they kneeled on theyr kne,

Full fayre before Robyn. The Kynge sayd hymselfe untyll, And swore by saynt Austyn, 'Here is a wonder semely syght,

Me thynketh, by goddes pyne (suf-
fering);

His men are more at his byddynge
Then my men be at myn.'"

After dinner there was shooting, the marks being, as the abbot thought, too long by fifty paces, and it was agreed that every one who missed should lose his arrow and receive a buffet on the head, which buffet Robin administered without mercy to all who incurred the penalty. At length Robin missed the mark himself:

"At the last shot that Robyn shot,
For all his frendes fare,
Yet he fayled of the garlonde
Thre fyngers and mare.

Than bespake good Gylberte,

And thus he gan say:

'Mayster,' he sayd, 'your takyll is lost, Stand forth and take your pay.'

'If it be so,' sayd Robyn,

That may no better be;

Sir Abbot, I delyver the myn arowe,

I pray the, syr, serve thou me.' 'It falleth not for myn order,' sayd our 'Robyn, by thy leve, [Kyng,

For to smyte no good yeman,

For doute I shoulde hym greve.'
'Smyte on boldely,' sayd Robyn,
I give the large leve :'
Annone our Kynge, with that worde,
He folde up his sleve,

And sych a buffet he gave Robyn,

To grounde he yede (went) full nere. 'I make myn avowe to God,' sayd Robyn, "Thou arte a stalworthe frere.

There is pith in thyn arme,' sayd Robyn,
I trowe thou canst well shote.'"
The strength of his arm excited sus-

picion, for it was one of the qualifi-
cations of royalty; the King was re-
cognized; all the outlaws fell upon
ther knees before him, and Robin
asked pardon for their trespasses,
which was granted, and he himself was
taken to court. On their return to
Nottingham, the King and his at-
tendants having been clad in the out-
law's livery, Lyncolne grene,' they
went shooting along the way :-
"Our Kynge and Robyn rode togyder,
For soth as I you say,

And they shote plucke buffet,

As they went by the way; And many a buffet our Kynge wan

Of Robyn Hode that day; And nothynge spared good Robyn

Our Kynge in his pay."

Robin, however was soon tired of court, and returned to his former life and haunts, where he lived twentytwo years, till he was betrayed by the prioress of Kyrkesly,' for the love of Sir Roger of Doncaster that was her owne speciall.'

D.D. 3 vols.

IT is admitted by nearly all the learned of the present day, that the Homeric songs were, even among the

ancient Greeks themselves, the oldest monuments of their national literature. The so called Orphic songs, the