[The copy in the Roxburghe _Collection_ (ed. Chappell, vol. ii. pl. i. p. 80) is printed by H[enry] G[osson], who was a contemporary of Ben Jonson. Some little books in prose on _Robin Goodfellow_, written in the seventeenth century, were printed for the Percy Society by Mr. J. P. Collier.]
From Oberon, in fairye land, The king of ghosts and shadowes there, Mad Robin I, at his command, Am sent to viewe the night-sports here. What revell rout 5 Is kept about, In every corner where I go, I will o'ersee, And merry bee, And make good sport, with ho, ho, ho! 10
More swift than lightening can I flye About this aery welkin soone, And, in a minutes space, descrye Each thing that's done belowe the moone, There's not a hag 15 Or ghost shall wag, Or cry, ware Goblins! where I go; But Robin I Their feates will spy, And send them home, with ho, ho, ho! 20
Whene'er such wanderers I meete, As from their night-sports they trudge home; With counterfeiting voice I greete And call them on, with me to roame Thro' woods, thro' lakes, 25 Thro' bogs, thro' brakes; Or else, unseene, with them I go, All in the nicke To play some tricke And frolicke it, with ho, ho, ho! 30
Sometimes I meete them like a man; Sometimes, an ox, sometimes, a hound; And to a horse I turn me can; To trip and trot about them round. But if, to ride, 35 My backe they stride, More swift than wind away I go, Ore hedge and lands, Thro' pools and ponds I whirry, laughing, ho, ho, ho! 40
When lads and lasses merry be, With possets and with juncates fine; Unseene of all the company, I eat their cakes and sip their wine; And, to make sport, 45 I fart and snort; And out the candles I do blow: The maids I kiss; They shrieke--Who's this? I answer nought, but ho, ho, ho! 50
Yet now and then, the maids to please, At midnight I card up their wooll; And while they sleepe, and take their ease, With wheel to threads their flax I pull. I grind at mill 55 Their malt up still; I dress their hemp, I spin their tow. If any 'wake, And would me take, I wend me, laughing, ho, ho, ho! 60
When house or harth doth sluttish lye,[416] I pinch the maidens blacke and blue; The bed-clothes from the bedd pull I, And lay them naked all to view. 'Twixt sleepe and wake, 65 I do them take, And on the key-cold floor them throw. If out they cry, Then forth I fly, And loudly laugh out, ho, ho, ho! 70