"That a butcher doth deny;
I will go with you, my brethren true,

As fast as I can hie."
But when to the sheriffs house they came,

To dinner they hied apace,
And Robin Hood he the man must be

Before them all to say grace.
"Pray God bless us all," said jolly Robin,

"And our meat within this place;
A cup of sack so good will nourish our blood,

And so do I end my grace."
"Come fill us more wine," said jolly Robin,

"Let us be merry while we do stay;
For wine and good cheer, be it never so dear,

I vow I the reck'ning will pay.
"Come, 'brothers,' be merry," said jolly Robin,

"Let us drink, and never give ore;
For the shot I will pay, ere I go my way,

If it cost me five pounds and more."
"This is a mad blade," the butchers then said;

Saies the sheriff, "He is some prodigel,
That some land has sold for silver and gold,

And now he doth mean to spend all.
"Hast thou any horn beasts," the sheriff repli'd,

"Good fellow, to sell unto me?"
"Yes, that I have, good master sheriff,

I have hundreds two or three;
"And a hundred aker of good free land,

If you please it to see:
And Ile make you as good assurance of it,

As ever my father made me."
The sheriff he saddled his good palfrey,

And, with three hundred pound in gold,
Away he went with bold Robin Hood,

His horned beasts to behold.
Away then the sheriff and Robin did ride,

To the forrest of merry Sherwood;
Then the sheriff did say, "God bless us this day

From a man they call Robin Hood!"
But when a little farther they came,

Bold Robin he chanced to spy
A hundred head of good red deer,

Come tripping the sheriff full nigh.
"How like you my horn'd beasts, good master sheriff?

They be fat and fair for to see;"
"I tell thee, good fellow, I would I were gone,

For I like not thy company."
Then Robin set his horn to his mouth,

And blew but blasts three;
Then quickly anon there came Little John,

And all his company.
"What is your will, master?" then said Little John,

"Good master come tell unto me;"
"I have brought hither the sheriff of Nottingham

This day to dine with thee."
"He is welcome to me," then said Little John,

"I hope he will honestly pay;
I know he has gold, if it be but well told,

Will serve us to drink a whole day."
Then Robin took his mantle from his back,

And laid it upon the ground:
And out of the sheriffs portmantle

He told three hundred pound.
Then Robin he brought him thorow the wood,

And set him on his dapple gray;
"O have me commanded to your wife at home;"

So Robin went laughing away.
NOTES

SIR PATRICK SPENS
Mr. Child finds the first published version of "the grand old

ballad of Sir Patrick Spens," as Coleridge calls it, in Bishop
Percy's RELIQUES. Here the name is "Spence," and the middle rhyme

-
"Haf owre, haf owre to Aberdour,"

is not of early date. The "Cork-heeled Shoon," too, cannot be
early, but ballads are subject, in oral tradition, to such modern

interpolations. The verse about the ladies waitingvainly is
anticipated in a popular song of the fourteenth century, on a

defeat of the NOBLESSE in Flanders -
"Their ladies them may abide in bower and hall well long!"

If there be historicalfoundation for the ballad, it is probably a
blending of the voyage of Margaret, daughter of Alexander III., to

wed Eric, King of Norway, in 1281 (some of her escort were drowned
on their way home), with the rather mysterious death, or

disappearance, of Margaret's daughter, "The Maid of Norway," on her
voyage to marry the son of Edward I., in 1290. A woman, who

alleged that she was the Maid of Norway, was later burned at the
stake. The great number and variety of versions sufficiently

indicate the antiquity of this ballad, wherein exact history is not
to be expected.

THE BATTLE OF OTTERBURN
From THE BORDER MINSTRELSY, Sir Walter Scott's latest edition of

1833: the copy in the edition of 1802 is less complete. The
gentle and joyous passage of arms here recorded, took place in

August 1388. We have an admirableaccount of Otterburn fight from
Froissart, who revels in a gallantencounter, fairly fought out

hand to hand, with no intervention of archery or artillery, and for
no wretched practical purpose. In such a combat the Scots, never

renowned for success at long bowls, and led by a Douglas, were
likely to prove victorious, even against long odds, and when taken

by surprise.
Choosing an advantage in the discordant days of Richard II., the

Scots mustered a very large force near Jedburgh, merely to break
lances on English ground, and take loot. Learning that, as they

advanced by the Carlisle route, the English intended to invade
Scotland by Berwick and the east coast, the Scots sent three or

four hundred men-at-arms, with a few thousand mounted archers and
pikemen, who should harry Northumberland to the walls of Newcastle.

These were led by James, Earl of Douglas, March, and Murray. In a
fight at Newcastle, Douglas took Harry Percy's pennon, which

Hotspur vowed to recover. The retreat began, but the Scots waited
at Otterburn, partly to besiege the castle, partly to abide

Hotspur's challenge. He made his attack at moonlight, with
overwhelming odds, but was hampered by a marsh, and incommoded by a

flank attach of the Scots. Then it came to who would pound
longest, with axe and sword. Douglas cut his way through the

English, axe in hand, and was overthrown, but his men protected his
body. The Sinclairs and Lindsay raised his banner, with his cry;

March and Dunbar came up; Hotspur was taken by Montgomery, and the
English were routed with heavy loss. Douglas was buried in Melrose

Abbey; very many years later the English defiled his grave, but
were punished at Ancram Moor. There is an English poem on the

fight of "about 1550"; it has many analogies with our Scottish
version, and, doubtless, ours descends from a ballad almost

contemporary. The ballad was a great favourite of Scott's. In a
severe illness, thinking of Lockhart, not yet his son-in-law, he