for instance, it seems, from the later ballads, it was quite indispensable that they should have the best of it with some veteran forester, either in shooting with the bow, or playfully breaking a crown with the quarter-staff, or even by occasionally beating their antagonists when contending with inadequate weapons.

Let us now look at two or three of the more interesting adventures which are recorded in the famous ballad of the "Lytell Geste" as having actually taken place. In one part of this poem we find a story of the most interesting character, and told with extraordinary spirit, discrimination of character, and dramatic effect. Whilst Little John, Scathelock (the Scarlet of a later time), and Much the Miller's son, were one day watching in the forest, they beheld a knight riding along :—

All dreari then was his semblaunte,

And lytell was his pride;

Hys one fote in the sterope stode,

The other waved besyde.

Hys hode hangynge over hys eyen two,

He rode in symple aray;

A soryer man than he was one

Rode never in somers day.

The outlaws courteously accost and surprise him with the information that their master has been waiting for him, fasting, three hours; Robin Hood, it appears, having an objection to sit down to dinner till he can satisfy himself he has earned it, by finding strangers to sit down with him-and pay the bill. Having "washed," they dine :

Brede and wyne they had ynough,

And nombles [entrails] of the deer;
Swannes and fesauntes they had full good,
And foules of the revere :

There fayled never so lytell a byrde

That ever was bred on brere.

After dinner the knight thanks his host for his entertainment, but Robin hints that thanks are not enough. The knight replies that he has nothing in his coffers that he can for shame offer—that, in short, his whole stock consists of ten shillings. Upon this Robin

bids Little John examine the coffers to see if the statement be true (a favourite mode with Robin of judging of the character of his visitors), and informs the knight at the same time that if he really have no more, more he will lend him.

"What tydynge, Johan?"-sayd Robyn:

"Syr, the Knyght is trewe enough."

The great outlaw is now evidently interested; and, with mingled delicacy and frankness, inquires as to the cause of the knight's low estate, fearing that it implies some wrong-doing on his part. It comes out at last that his son has killed a "Knyght of Lancastshyre" in the tournament, and that, to defend him "in his right," he has sold all his own goods, and pledged his lands unto the abbot of St. Mary's, York; the day is now nearly arrived, and he is not merely unable to redeem them before too late, but well nigh penniless into the bargain :

Before many hours the knight was pursuing his way with a full pocket and a full heart to redeem his lands.

We must follow him to York. The day of payment has arrived. The chief officers of the abbey are in a state of high excitement, on account of the value of the estates that will be theirs at nightfall if the knight comes not with the redemption money. The abbot cannot repress

his anticipations:

"But he come this ylke day,

Dysheryte shall he be."

The prior endeavours to befriend the absent knight, but is answered impatiently

"Thou arte euer in my berde," sayde the Abbot,

"By God and Saynt Richarde."

And then bursts in a "fat-headed monk," the high cellarer, with the exulting exclamation—

"He is dede or hanged," sayd the monke,

"By God that bought me dere;

And we shall have to spende in this place
Foure hondred pounde by yere.'

To make all sure, the abbot has managed to have the assistance of the high justicer of England on the occasion by the usual mode of persuasion, a bribe; and is just beginning to receive his congratulations when the knight arrives at the gate. But he appears in "symple wedes," and the alarm raised by his appearance soon subsides as he speaks:

"Do gladly, Syr Abbot," sayd the Knyght;

"I am come to holde my day.'

The fyrst word the Abbot spoke,

"Hast thou brought my pay?"

The knight tries to move his pity, but in vain; and after some further passages between him and the abbot, conceived and expressed in the finest dramatic spirit, the truth comes out in answer to a proposition from the justice that the abbot shall give two hundred pounds more to keep the land in peace; the knight then suddenly astounds the whole party by producing the four hundred pounds.

"Have here thy golde, Syr Abbot," sayd the Knyght,
"Which that thou lentest me;

Haddest thou been curteys at my comynge,

Rewarde sholdest thou have be."

The Abbot sat styll, and ete no more
For all his ryall [royal] chere;

He cast his hede on his sholder,

And fast began to stare.

"Take [give] me my golde agayne," sayd the Abbot,
Syr Justyce, that I toke the."

"Not a peny," said the Justyce,

A twelvemonth afterwards, and on the very day that the knight has fixed for repaying Robin Hood, a magnificent procession of ecclesiastics and ecclesiastical retainers is passing through the forest; and being stopped by the outlaws, who should be at the head of the whole but our friend the fat-headed monk, the high cellarer of St. Mary, York! Now Robin Hood's security, the only one that he would take from the knight, had been that of the Virgin—what more natural than that he should think the high cellarer of the Virgin's own house at York had come to pay him his four hundred pounds! It is in vain the holy man denies that he has come for any such purpose. At last, driven to his shifts, he ventures a falsehood when the actual state of his coffers is inquired into. His return, in official language, is twenty marks. Robin is very reasonable, and says, if there really be no more, not a penny of it will be meddled with.

Lytell Johan spread his mantell downe

As he had done before,

And he tolde out of the monkes male
Eyght hundreth pounde and more.

No wonder that Robin exclaims

Monk, what told I thee?

Our Lady is the trewest woman

That ever yet founde I me.

Anon a second, and to archer eyes still more attractive pageant, appears. It is the good and grateful knight at the head of a hundred men clothed in white and red, and bearing as a present to the foresters a hundred bows of a quality to delight even such connoisseurs in the weapon, with a hundred sheaves of arrows, with heads burnished full bright, every arrow an ell long, y-dight with peacock plumes, and y-nocked with silver. The knight had been detained on his way; the sun was down; the hour of payment had passed when he arrived at the trysting-tree. His excuse was soon made to the generous outlaw. He had stayed to help a poor yeoman who was suffering oppression. The debt was forgiven; the monks had paid it doubly.

The ballads of Robin Hood which, century after century, followed the "Lytell Geste" are, at any rate, evidences of the deep hold which this story of wild adventure, and of the justice of the strong hand, long retained upon the popular mind.

Richard dying without lawful issue, the succession to his dominions again became dubious. They consisted of various territories, governed by various rules of descent, and all of them uncertain. There were two competitors; the first was prince John, youngest son of Henry II.; the other was Arthur, son of Constance of Bretagne, by Geoffrey, the third son of that monarch. If the right of consanguinity were only considered, the title of John to the whole succession had been indisputable. If the right of representation had then prevailed, which now universally