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gentlemen, will you be patient awhile? Ay, and then you shall hear anon A very good ballad of bold Robin Hood, And of his man, brave Little John. In Locksly town, in Nottinghamshire, In merry sweet Locksly town, There bold Robin Hood he was born and was bred, Bold Robin of famous renown. The father of Robin a forester was, And he shot in a lusty long bow, Two north country miles and an inch at a shot, As the Pinder of Wakefield does know. For he brought Adam Bell, and Clim of the Clugh, And William a Clowdesle To shoot with our forrester for forty mark, And the forrester beat them all three. His mother was neece to the Coventry knight, Which Warwickshire men call Sir Guy; For he slew the blue bore that hangs up at the gate, Or mine host of The Bull tells a lye. Her brother was Gamwel, of Great Gamwel Hall, And a noble house-keeper was he, Ay, as ever broke bread in sweet Nottinghamshire, And a squire of famous degree. The mother of Robin said to her husband, My honey, my love, and my dear, Let Robin and I ride this morning to Gamwel, To taste of my brothers good cheer. And he said, I grant thee thy boon, gentle Joan, Take one of my horses, I pray; The sun is a rising, and therefore make haste, For to-morrow is Christmas-day. Then Robin Hoods fathers grey gelding was brought, And sadled and bridled was he; God wot, a blew bonnet, his new suit of cloaths, And a cloak that did reach to his knee. She got on her holiday kirtle and gown, They were of a light Lincoln green; The cloath was homespun, but for colour and make It might a beseemed our queen. And then Robin got on his basket-hilt sword, And his dagger on his tother side, And said, My dear mother, let's haste to be gone, We have forty long miles to ride. When Robin had mounted his gelding so grey, His father, without any trouble, Set her up behind him, and bad her not fear, For his gelding had oft carried double. And when she was settled, they rode to their neighbours, And drank and shook hands with them all; And then Robin gallopt, and never gave ore, Till they lighted at Gamwel Hall. And now you may think the right worshipful squire Was joyful his sister to see; For he kist her and kist her, and swore a great oath, Thou art welcome, kind sister, to me. To-morrow, when mass had been said in the chappel, Six tables were coverd in the hall, And in comes the squire, and makes a short speech, It was, Neighbours, you're welcome all. But not a man here shall taste my March beer, Till a Christmas carrol he sing: Then all clapt their hands, and they shouted and sung, Till the hall and the parlour did ring. Now mustard and braun, roast beef and plumb pies, Were set upon every table: And noble George Gamwel said, Eat and be merry, And drink too, as long as you're able. When dinner was ended, his chaplain said grace, And, 'Be merry, my friends,' said the squire; 'It rains, and it blows, but call for more ale, And lay some more wood on the fire. 'And now call ye Little John hither to me, For Little John is a fine lad At gambols and juggling, and twenty such tricks As shall make you merry and glad.' When Little John came, to gambols they went, Both gentleman, yeoman and clown; And what do you think? Why, as true as I live, Bold Robin Hood put them all down. And now you may think the right worshipful squire Was joyful this sight for to see; For he said, Cousin Robin, thou'st go no more home, But tarry and dwell here with me. Thou shalt have my land when I dye, and till then Thou shalt be the staff of my age; 'Then grant me my boon, dear uncle,' said Robin, 'That Little John may be my page.' And he said, Kind cousin, I grant thee thy boon; With all my heart, so let it be; 'Then come hither, Little John,' said Robin Hood, 'Come hither, my page, unto me. 'Go fetch my bow, my longest long bow, And broad arrows, one, two, or three; For when it is fair weather we'll into Sherwood, Some merry pastime to see.' When Robin Hood came into merry Sherwood, He winded his bugle so clear, And twice five and twenty good yeomen and bold Before Robin Hood did appear. 'Where are your companions all?' said Robin Hood, 'For still I want forty and three;' Then said a bold yeoman, Lo, yonder they stand, All under a green-wood tree. As that word was spoke, Clorinda came by; The queen of the shepherds was she; And her gown was of velvet as green as the grass, And her buskin did reach to her knee. Her gait it was graceful, her body was straight, And her countenance free from pride; A bow in her hand, and quiver and arrows Hung dangling by her sweet side.