"Content your selfe," then Robin saies, “and I will ease your griefe,

I have found out an excellent way that will yeeld you reliefe."

He sends them to be married straight, and he, in her disguise,

Hies home with all the speed he may to blind her uncle's eyes:

And there he plyes his work amaine, doing more in one houre,

Such was his skill and workmanship, than she could doe in foure.

The old man wondred for to see the worke goe on so fast,

And there withall more worke doth he

unto good Robin cast.

Then Robin said to his old man,

"good uncle, if you please

To grant me but one ten pound,

I'le yeeld your love-suit ease."

"Ten pounds," quoth he, "I will give thee, sweet Neece, with all my heart,

So thou wilt grant to me thy love,

to ease my troubled heart."

"Then let me a writing have," quoth he,

"from your owne hand with speed, That I may marry my sweet-heart when I have done this deed."

The old man he did give consent that he these things should have, Thinking that it had bin his neece that did this bargain crave;

And unto Robin then quoth he,

"my gentle n[eece, behold, Goe thou into [thy chamber soone, and I'le goe [bring the gold."

When he into [the chamber came, thinking in[deed to play, Straight Robin [upon him doth fall, and carries him away

Into the chamb[er where the two

faire lovers [did abide,

And gives to th[em their unkle old, I, and the gold beside.

The old man [vainly Robin sought, so many shapes he tries; Sometimes he was a hare or hound, sometimes like bird he flies. The [more he strove the less he sped, th[e lovers all did see ;

And [thus did Robin favour them

full [kind and merrilie.

[Thus Robin lived a merry life

as any could enjoy,

'Mongst country farms he did resort,

and oft would folks annoy :] But if the maids doe call to him,

he still away will goe

In knavish sort, and to himselfe he'd laugh out hoe, hoe, hoe!

He oft would beg and crave an almes, but take nought that they'd give: In severall shapes he'd gull the world, thus madly did he live.

M 2

Sometimes a cripple he would seeme, sometimes a souldier brave:

Sometimes a fox, sometimes a hare; brave pastimes would he have.

Sometimes an owle he'd seeme to be, sometimes a skipping frog; Sometimes a kirne, in Irish shape, to leape ore mire or bog: Sometime he'd counterfeit a voyce, and travellers call astray, Sometimes a walking fire he'd be, and lead them from their way.

Some call him Robin Good-fellow,
Hob-goblin or mad Crisp,

And some againe doe tearme him oft
by name of Will the Wispe;
But call him by what name you list,
I have studied on my pillow,

I think the best name he deserves
is Robin the Good Fellow.

At last upon a summer's night
King Oberon found him out,
And with his elves in dancing wise

straight circled him about.

The fairies danc't, and little Tom Thumb

on his bag-pipe did play,

And thus they danc't their fairy round

till almost break of day.

Then Phebus he most gloriously

begins to grace the aire,

When Oberon with his fairy traine

begins to make repaire,

With speed unto the fairy land,

they swiftly tooke their way, And I out of my dreame awak't, and so 'twas perfect day.

Thus having told my dreame at full
I'le bid you all farewell.

If you applaud mad Robin's prankes,
may be ere long I'le tell

Some other stories to your eares,

which shall contentment give : To gaine your favours I will seeke The longest day I live.

VIII. THE PRANKS OF PUCK.

This well-known song is attributed by Peck to Ben Jonson, and Mr. Collier possesses a very early MS. copy of it, where the initials of that poet are found at the end. Mr. Collier's MS. possesses many variations, some of which I have noted, and an additional stanza, also here given. In the old blackletter copies, it is directed to be sung to the tune of Dulcina.

From Oberon, in fairy-land,

The king of ghosts and shadows there,

Mad Robin I, at his command,

Am sent to view the night-sports here;

What revel-rout

Is kept about

In every corner where I go,

I will o'ersee,

And merry be,

And make good sport, with ho, ho, ho!

More swift than lightning do I fly

About this airy welkin soon, And, in a minutes space, descry

What things are done beneath the moon :

There's not a hag,

Nor ghost shall wag,

Nor cry, ware Goblin! where I go ;1

But Robin I

His feats will spy,

And send him home, with ho, ho, ho!

If any wanderers I meet,

That from their night-sport do trudge home,

With counterfeited voice I greet,

And call them on with me to roam :

Through woods, through lakes,
Through bogs, through brakes,
O'er bush and brier with them I go;

I call upon

Them to come on,2

And slide out laughing, ho, ho, ho !

Sometimes I meet them like a man,

Sometimes an ox,3 sometimes a hound;

And to a horse I turn me can,

To trip and trot about them round;

But if, to ride,

My back they stride,

More swift than wind away I go ;

O'er hedge, o'er lands,

1 "Nor any friend where ere I goe."—Mr. Collier's MS.

2 "All in the nicke

To play some tricke."-Percy.

3 "A harte."-Mr. Collier's MS.