All right, here we go: The First Fytt.
I am going to try, again, to hide it behind a cut. LJ-feed readers, I do apologize if it doesn't work (again). If I don't get it right this time, I will start putting it on a webpage and providing pointers.
In other news: Also emailed Master Ruaidhri an Cu for his opinion on my translation efforts. Not that I foisted a draft off on him, but I'm leery of "fixing" medieval poetry. Are these bugs or features that I'm removing?
Robin Hood and the Potter
Based on online edition at: http://www.lib.rochester.edu/camelot/teams/potter.htm
ed. Stephen Knight and Thomas H. Ohlgren, originally published in Robin Hood and Other Outlaw Tales, Kalamazoo, MI: Medieval Institute Publications, 1997
Fitt 1
In summer, when the new leaves spring
The blooms on every bow
So merry do the birdies sing
In woods all joyful now
Hearken, all you good yeomen,
So comely, courteous, good // slur it “court-tyus” and it’ll fit
One of the best that e’re bore bow
His name was Robin Hood
Robin Hood was the yeoman’s name
That was both courteous and free
For the love of Our Lady
All women worshipped he
But as the good yeomen stood there
Among his merry men
He was aware of a proud potter
Come wand’ring through the glen
“Here’s a potter,” Robin said
“That long has passed this way;
He never was so courteous a man
A penny of toll to pay”
“I met him once,” said Little John
“A curse upon the git!
Such three strokes he gave to me
My sides, they still are split!”
“Forty shillings,” said Little John
“To pay it this same day
I’ll bet there’s not one ‘mong us all
Who makes that potter pay”
“Here’s your bet,” said Robin Hood
“And more, if you want to play,
And I shall make that proud potter
Our road-toll for to pay.”
There is the money they laid down
All kept safe by the hill
Before the potter Robin leapt
And bade him to stand still
Hands upon his horse he laid
Bade potter stand full still
The potter shortly to him said,
“So, fellow, what’s your will?”
“All these three years, and more, potter,
“You’ve often come this way
Yet ne’er you were so courteous a man
A penny of toll to pay.”
“What is your name?” the potter asked,
“For toll you ask of me?”
“Robin Hood’s my name,” said proud Robin
“And payment you’ll give to me.”
“Know well I won’t,” the potter said
“Nor road-toll will I pay,
Take your hand from off my horse!
Or I’ll beat you, by my faith.”
The potter, to his cart he went
That had his pots all heaped
A two-handed staff he there did find
And he at Robin leaped
Robin, out with sword, advanced
A buckler in his hand
The potter to Robin Hood he said,
“Let go my horse, understand?”
Together crashed these two yeomen
A good sight for to see
The sight made all Robin’s men laugh
Where they stood under a tree
Little John to his fellows said,
“That potter will staunchly stand.”
The potter, with a back-hand stroke
Struck buckler from Robin’s hand
And ere Robin might snatch it up,
That buckler at his feet
The potter hit him in the neck
He went down in defeat
Robin’s men, they saw all that,
They saw it with dismay
“Let’s help our master,” Little John said,
“The potter we will slay.”
These strong yeomen did quickly rush
To their master they run
Little John to his master said,
“Who has the wager won?”
“Shall I have your forty shillings,”
“Or master, shall you have mine?”
“If they were a hundred,” Robin said
“In faith, they’d be all thine.”
“It is full little courtesy,”
The potter, he did say,
“If a poor yeoman comes down the road,
To hinder him on his way.”
“By my troth, you’re right,” Robin said
“You speak good yeomanry;
And if you drive forth every day
You’ll not be stopped by me.”
“I’ll ask you, good potter yeoman,
A fellowship will you have?
Give me your clothing, and you shall have mine
And I’ll go to Nottingham.”
“I grant thereto,” said the potter proud,
“For I’m a fellow good
But if you can’t my pots all sell
Don’t come back to this wood.”
“Nay, by my troth,” then Robin said
“And I beshrew my head
I’ll not a single pot return
I’ll sell them cheap instead!”
Then spoke up bold Little John
And all the merry men
“Master, beware Nottingham’s sheriff
For he is not our friend.”
“Through the help of Our Lady,
I will not come to woe
Hey-la-houte!” said Robin Hood
“To Nottingham will I go.”
Robin went to Nottingham,
These pots for to sell
The potter stayed with Robin’s men
There he did fare well
So Robin hastened on his way
A merry tune he hums
But wait, there’s more! and as they say
The best is yet to come
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