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Gutch's _Robin Hood_, ii. 393.

From _A Musicall Dreamt, or the fourth booke of Ayres_, &c., London, 1606. Ritson printed the same from the edition of 1609.

In Sherwood livde stout Robin Hood, An archer great, none greater; His bow and shafts were sure and good, Yet Cupids were much better.

Robin could shoot at many a hart and misse, 5 Cupid at first could hit a hart of his.

_Hey, jolly Robin, hoe, jolly Robin, hey, jolly Robin Hood, Love finds out me, as well as thee, so follow me, so follow me to the green-wood_.[L8]

A noble thiefe was Robin Hoode, Wise was he could deceive him; 10 Yet Marrian, in his bravest mood, Could of his heart bereave him!

No greater thief lies hidden under skies Then beauty closely lodgde in womens eyes.

_Hey, jolly Robin, &c._

An out-law was this Robin Hood, 15 His life free and unruly; Yet to faire Marrian bound he stood, And loves debt payed her duely.

Whom curbe of stricktest law could not hold in, Love with obeyednes and a winke could winne _Hey, jolly Robin, &c._ 20

Now wend we home, stout Robin Hood, Leave we the woods behind us; Love-passions must not be withstood, Love every where will find us.

I livde in fielde and downe, and so did he, 25 I got me to the woods, love followed me.

_Hey, jolly Robin, &c._

8, to follow. Ritson.


From Anthony Munday's London pageant for 1615, entitled _Metropolis Coronata, the Triumphes of Ancient Drapery_. Munday was a popular ballad-writer, and, together with Chettle, the author of two well-known plays on the fortunes of "Robert Earl of Huntington." This song is taken from _The Civic Garland_, in the Percy Society Publications, vol. xix. p. 15.

Now wend we together, my merry men all, Unto the forrest side a: And there to strike a buck or a doe, Let our cunning all be a tride a.

Then go we merrily, merrily on, 5 To the green-wood to take up our stand, Where we will lye in waite for our game, With our bent bowes in our hand.

What life is there like to bold Robin Hood?

It is so pleasant a thing a: 10 In merry Shirwood he spends his dayes, As pleasantly as a king a.

No man may compare with Robin Hood, With Robin Hood, Scathlocke and John; Their like was never, nor never will be, 15 If in ease that they were gone.

They will not away from merry Shirwood, In any place else to dwell: For there is neither city nor towne, That likes them halfe so well. 20

Our lives are wholly given to hunt, And haunt the merry greene-wood, Where our best service is daily spent For our master Robin Hood.

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