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A XTTELL GE3TE OP EOBTK HODE. 109
Full hastly our kynge was dyght,
So were his knyghtes fyve, ro
Everych of them in monkes wede,
And hasted them thyder blyve.
Qur kynge was grete above his cole,
A brode hat on his crowne, Eyght as he were abbotrlyke, 75
They rode up in-to the towne.
Styf botes our kynge had on,
Forsoth as I you say; He rode syngynge to grene wode,
The covent was clothed in graye. s>
His male hors and his grete somers
Folowed our kynge behynde, Tyll they came to grene wode,
A myle under the lynde.
There they met with good Eobyn, a*
Stondynge on the waye, And so dyde many a bolde archere,
For soth as I you say.
Eobyn toke the kynges hors,
Hastely in that stede, 00
And sayd, " Syr abbot, by your leve,
A whyle ye must abyde. |
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72, Myth, Bitson. |
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