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88 A LYTELL GESTE OP EOBTN HODE.
" By dere worthy god," said Robyn, " To seche all England thorowe,
Yet founde I never to my pay A moche better borowe.
" Fyll of the best wyne, do hym drynke," said Robyn, iss
" And grete well thy lady hende, And yf she have nede of Eobyn Hode,
A frende she shall hym fynde.
" And yf she nedeth ony more sylver,
Come thou agayne to me, iso
And, by this token she hath me sent, She shall have such thre."
The monke was going to London ward,
There to holde grete mote, The knyght that rode so hye on hors, ias
To brynge hym under fote.
" Whether be ye away ? " sayd Robyn.
" Syr, to maners in this londe, Too reken with our reves,
That have done moch wronge." 200
" Come now forth, Lytell Johan,
And harken to my tale ; A better yemen I knowe none,
To seke a monkes male." 187, to, W. |
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