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ROBIN HOOD AND THE MONK. 15
I make the maister," seid Robyn Hode, " Off alle my men and me."
" Nay, be my trouthe," seid Litulle Johne, " So shall hit neuer be, sis
But lat me be a felow," seid Litulle Johne, " Non odur kepe I'll be."
Thus Johne gate Robyn Hode out of prisone,
Sertan withoutyn layne; When his men saw hym hoi and sounde, *»
For sothe they were ful fayne.
They filled in wyne, and made him glad,
Vnder the levys smale, And zete pastes of venysone,
That gode was with ale. 325
Than worde came to oure kynge,
How Robyn Hode was gone, And how the scheref of Notyngham
Durst neuer loke hyme vpone.
Then bespake oure cumly kynge, &»
In an angur hye, " Litulle Johne hase begyled the schereff,
In faith so hase he me.
" Litulle Johne has begyled vs bothe,
And that fulle wel I se, 35,5 |
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