ROBIN HOOD AND THE POTTER

Song 1

In summer, when the leaves spring,
The blossoms on every bow,
So merrily do the birds sing
In woods merry now.

Listen, good yeomen,  
Comely, courteous, and good,    
Of one of the best that ever beared bow,
His name was Robin Hood.

Robin Hood was the yeoman's name,
Who was both courteous and free;
For the love of our lady,
He worshipped all women.   

But as the good yeoman stood on a day,
Among his merry men,    
He was aware of a proud potter, 
Who came driving over the land.

"Here comes a proud potter," said Robin, 
"That long has passed this way;    
He has never been so courteous a man
To pay a penny of road-toll."

"I met him at Wentbridge," said Little John,
"And therefore evil may he thrive!  
Such three strokes he gave me,
Yet my sides are still cleft.

"I bet forty shillings," said Little John,
"To pay this same day,
There is not a man among us all 
Who can force him to pay."  

"Here is forty shillings," said Robin,
"More, if you dare say,
That I shall make that proud potter, 
a payment he shall give me."   

There this money they laid,
They gave it to a yeoman to keep;
Robin jumped before the potter,
And bade him stand still.

He laid his hands upon his horse,  
And bade the potter stand full still;   
The potter shortley said to him,    
"Fellow, what is your will?"   

"All these three years, and more, potter," he said,
"You have passed this way,   
Yet you were never so courteous a man
One penny of toll to pay."

"What is your name," said the potter,
"For the toll you ask of me?"
"Robin Hood is my name,
A payment you shall leave me."

"I will not leave a payment," said the potter,
"Nor will I pay a toll;
Get your hands away from my horse!
I will do you evil otherwise, by my faith."

The potter went to his cart,
He did not hide;
He took out a good two-handed staff,   
Before Robin he lept.

Robin took out a bent sword,
A buckler in his hand;
The potter went to Robin,
And said, "Fellow, let my horse go."

Together they fought, these yeomen,
It was a good sight to see; 
Thereof laughed Robin's men, 
Where they stood under a tree.   

Little John said to his fellow, 
"That potter will stiffly stand":    
The potter, with an ackward stroke,
Smote the buckler out of Robin's hand.

And before Robin might get it again
His buckler at his feet,
The potter hit him in the neck,
He soon fell to the ground.    

Robin's men saw that,   
As they stood under a bow;    
"Let us help our master," said Little John,
"Else that potter," said he, "will slay him."

These strong yeomen rushed
To their master they came.
Little John said to his master,
"Who has won the wager?

"Shall I have your forty shillings," said Little John,
"Or master, shall you have mine?"
"If there were a hundred," said Robin,    
"In truth, they would all be yours."

"It is very little courtesy," said the potter,
"As I have heard wise men say,
If a poor yeoman comes driving over the way,
To hinder him on his journey." 

"By my faith, you speak the truth," said Robin,
"You say good yeomenry;
Should you drive forth every day,
You shall never be hindered by me."   

"I pray you well, good potter,  
Will you have a fellowship with me? 
Give me your clothing, and you shall have mine;
I will go to Nottingham."

"I grant thereto," said the potter,
"You shall find me a good fellow;
But unless you sell my pots well,
Come again as you went."

"No, by my truth," said Robin,
"And then I curse my head,
I will not bring any pots back, 
If any wife will buy them."

Then Little John spoke,
To all his friendly fellows,   
"Master, be well aware of the sheriff
  of Nottingham, 
For he is little our friend."

"Through the help of Our Lady,
Fellows, let me alone.
Gee up!" said Robin,
"To Nottingham I will go." 

Robin went to Nottingham,  
These pots to sell;
The potter abode with Robin's men,
There he fared not ill. 

Robin drove on his way,
So merry over the land:
There is more, and after is to say,
The best is yet to come. 

Song 2

When Robin came to Nottingham,
The truth if I should say, 
He set up his horse at once,
And gave him oats and hay.

In the middle of the town,
There he showed his ware;    
"Pots! pots!" he began to cry full soon,    
"Have a present for the more you buy!"

Full even against the sheriff's gate
He showed his merchandise; 
Wifes and widows about him drew,
And quickly purchased of his ware. 

Yet "Pots, great cheap!" cried Robin,   
"I hate to leave these all to stand."   
And all that saw him sell
said he had not to be a potter long.

The pots that were worth five pennies,
He sold for three pennies;
Privately said man and wife,
"That potter shall never prosper."

Those Robin sold full fast,
Till he had but five pots;
He took them up from his cart,
And sent them to the sheriff's wife.

Thereof she was full happy,
"Gramercy," she said, "sir, then,
When you come to this country again,
I shall buy of your pots, so may I prosper."

"You shall have of the best," said Robin,
And he swore by the Trinity;  
Full courteously she began to call him,
"Come dine with the sheriff and me."   

"God have mercy," said Robin,
"Your bidding shall be done."   
A maiden bore the pots inside,
Robin and the sheriff's wife followed at once.

When Robin came into the hall,
The sheriff he soon met;
The potter understood courtesy,
And soon the sheriff he greeted.

"Look, sir, what this potter has given you and me,    
Five pots small and great!"
"He is full welcome," said the sheriff,   
"Let us wash, and go to dinner." 

As they sat at their meals, 
With a noble cheer,
Two of the sheriff's men began to speak 
Of a great wager,

Of a shooting, good and fine,
Was made the other day,    
Of forty shillings, the truth to say,  
Whoever should gain the wager.  

Still then sat the proud potter,
Thus then thought he,    
As I am a true Christian man,
This shooting I will see.  

When they had fared of the best,
With bread and ale and wine,    
To the butts they then pressed,
With bows and bolts full fine.

The sheriff's men shot very fast,
As archers that were skilled,
They came not nearer the mark
Bey half a good archer's bow.    

Still then stood the proud potter,
This then he said:    
"If I had a bow, by the Cross,
One shot you would see."

"You shall have a bow," said the sheriff,
"The best that you will choose of three;
You seem a stalward and a strong man,
Assayed you shall be."

The sheriff commanded a yeoman that stood by him
To go after some bows;
On the best bow that the yeoman brought    
Robin set a string.

"Now I shall know if you are any good,
And pull it up to your ear." 
"So help me God," said the proud potter,
"This is but right weak gear."    

To a quiver Robin went,
A good bolt he took out;
So near to the mark he went,
He failed not a foot.   

They all shot a bow again,  
The sheriff's men and he;
Off the mark he would not fail,
He cleft the prick in three.

The sheriff's men thought great shame
The potter the mastery won;
The sheriff laughed and made good game,    
And said, "Potter, you are a man.
You are worthy to bear a bow
In whatever place that you go." 

"In my cart I have a bow,
In truth," he said, "and that a good one;  
In my cart is the bow
Given to me by Robin Hood."

"Do you know Robin Hood?" said the sheriff,
"Potter, I pray you tell me."
"A hundred tournements I have shot with him, 
Under his trysting-tree."
"I had rather than have a hundred pounds," said the sheriff,
And he swore by the Trinity,
"That the false outlaw stood beside me."

"If you will follow my counsel," said the potter,  
"And boldly go with me,
tomorrow, before we have bread,    
Robin Hood we will see."

"I will reward you," said the sheriff,    
"And swear by God almighty."
They left the shooting, and they went home,
Their supper was prepared.  

Song 3

Upon the morrow, when it was day,
They got themselves ready to ride;
The potter began to ready his cart to go forth,   
And would not leave it behind.

He took leave of the sheriff's wife,
And thanked her for everything:
"Dame, for my love if you will wear this,   
I give you here a gold ring."

"Gramercy," said the wife,
"Sir, God reward you for it."
The sheriff's heart was never so light,   
To see the fair forest.

And when he came into the forest,
Under the leaves of green,   
Birds there sang freely on boughes,
It was a great joy to see.    

"To be here is merry," said Robin,
"For a man that had anything to spend;
By my horn you shall discover
If Robin Hood is here."

Robin set his horn to his mouth,
And blew a blast that was full good;
That his men that stood there heard, 
Far down in the wood.
"I hear my master blow," said Little John,  
They ran as if they were crazy.    

When they came to their master,
Little John would not hold back;
"Master, how have you fared in Nottingjam?
How have you sold your ware?"  

"By my truth, Little John,    
Look that you now take care;
I have brought the sheriff of Nottingham,
As a result of our business."

"He is full welcome," said Little John,  
"This tiding is very good."    
The sheriff had preferred a hundred pounds  
That he had never seen Robin Hode.

"Had I known that before,
When we were at Nottingham,
I should not have come into the fair forest
For all these thousand years." 

"That I know well," said Robin,
"I thank God that you are here;
Therefore you shall leave your horse with us,
And all your other gear."    

"May God forbid that," said the sheriff,
"So to lose my goods."    
"Here you came on a horse full high, 
And home you shall go on foot;
And greet well your wife at home,
The woman is full good.

"I shall send her a white palfrey,    
It trots like the wind,    
Were it not for the love of your wife,
Of more sorrow you would sing."

Then Robin Hood and the sheriff parted;   
He took the way to Nottingham;
His fair wife welcomed him home,
And to him she began to say:

"Sir, how have you fared in the green forest?
Have you brought Robin home?"   
"Dame, the devil take him, both body and bone;    
I have had a full great scorn.

"All the goods that I had taken to the greenwood,
He has taken from me;  
All but this fair palfrey,
That he has sent to you."

With that she took up a loud laughing,
And swore by Him that died on the tree,  
"Now you have paid for all the pots
That Robin gave to me.

"Now you come home to Nottingham.
You shall have goods enough."    
Now we speak of Robin Hood,
And of the potter under the green boughes.

"Potter, what were your pots worth
That I took with me to Nottingham?"  
"They were worth two nobles," he said,    
"So may I thrive or prosper;
So much could I have had for them,    
If I had been there."

"You shall have ten pounds," said Robin,
"Of money fair and free;
And whenever you come to the greenwood,
Welcome, potter, you will be to me."

Thus parted Robin, the sheriff, and the potter,
Underneath the greenwood tree;
God have mercy on Robin Hood's soul,    
And save all good yeomanry!