ROBIN AND GAMBLIN ^^^
(Bob Coltman)

Come on, Robin, let's break the rules,
Let's leave our schoolbooks and run away from school,
Run and catch a little rabbit, run and set a little snare,
Run and chase old Rennock's cows, Rennock won't be there.

Peekin' through the briars, stealin' over the creek,
Must be half a hundred, looks like they're asleep,
Cows with spotted hides, black, white and brown,
Rennock won't be a-catchin' 'em once we've made 'em run.

Running in amongst 'em, sticks in our hands,
Up, cow, run, cow, over Rennock's lands,
Wasn't any warning, no sight or sound,
But a shot come a-flying and struck little Robin down.

Out stepped Rennock, shotgun in his hand,
You better run home, little Gamblin, if you don't want some
of the same,
Better not say nothin', forget what has been done,
Better go learn your `rithmetic and leave my cows alone.

Rennock turned homeward, I watched him go,
Looked at poor little Robin, and he's bleedin' so,
Poor little Robin, so little and light,
What will your mama say when you don't come home tonight?

I don't care what comes of me, I don't care at all,
Rennock killed little Robin, I saw him fall,
Long as I can track him, well, I can throw stones,
If I can prevent it, Rennock won't reach home.

One stone went too far, one went too near,
Third one got him, right behind his ear,
Rennock won't be drinkin' no victory wine,
Robin may be his to kill but Rennock is mine.

(Robyn and Gandelyn, No. 115)
About six of us kids lived within running reach of each other in the rolling Pennsylvania farm-and-forest country, pastures with creeks at the bottoms of them, and we used to chase and tease the cows, which the farmers hated because it spoiled the milk. So when I came across this ballad, dating from about 1450, it seemed contemporary, and it was natural to transport the original deer-poaching tale into our own countryside. It fits perfectly; even Rennock is real. As children we were certain that one particular shotgun-waving farmer would really someday go the whole way and shoot us, and in fact one Halloween night, goaded past all endurance, he did let off a blast of rock salt over our startled heads.
In the original Gandelyn is Robin's knave, social inferior and faithful sidekick. Wrennok of Donne, the marksman, is represented as a "lytul boy", but he acts big, like a grown gamekeeper, or some sort of wilderness hoodlum. Gandelyn and Wrennok duel with bows over Robin's corpse; Wrennok's shot passes between Gandelyn's legs touching "neyther thye", but Gandelyn's arrow cleaves Wrennok's heart in two.

Child #115
filename[ RHGANDY2
SOF
Feb07


Son of Child CD Track 2