Why do you laugh? Change but the name, and the story s told of
yourself.
[Lat., Quid rides?]
read more

Why do you laugh? Change but the name, and the story s told of
yourself.
[Lat., Quid rides?]
Mutato nomine de te fabula narratur.]

In vain would I seek to discover
Why sad and mournful am I,
My thoughts without ceasing read more

In vain would I seek to discover
Why sad and mournful am I,
My thoughts without ceasing brood over
A tale of the time gone by.
[Ger., Ich weiss nicht was soll es bedeuten,
Dass ich so traurig bin:
Ein marchen aus alten Zeiten
Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.]

In after-dinner talk,
Across the walnuts and the wine.

In after-dinner talk,
Across the walnuts and the wine.

At this point therefore let us begin our narrative, without
adding any more to what has already been said; read more

At this point therefore let us begin our narrative, without
adding any more to what has already been said; for it would be
foolish to lengthen the preface while cutting short the history
itself.

But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison house,
I could a tale read more

But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison house,
I could a tale unfold whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand on end
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine.

For seldom shall she hear a tale
So said, so tender, yet so true.

For seldom shall she hear a tale
So said, so tender, yet so true.

Out of their saddles into the dirt--and thereby hangs a tale.

Out of their saddles into the dirt--and thereby hangs a tale.

A story, in which native humour reigns,
Is often useful, always entertains;
A graver fact, enlisted on read more

A story, in which native humour reigns,
Is often useful, always entertains;
A graver fact, enlisted on your side,
May furnish illustration, well applied;
But sedentary weavers of long tales
Give me the fidgets, and my patience fails.

In this spacious isle I think there is not one
But he hath heard some talk of Hood and read more

In this spacious isle I think there is not one
But he hath heard some talk of Hood and Little John,
Of Tuck, the merry friar, which many a sermon made
In praise of Robin Hood, his outlaws, and their trade.