| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
|
||
|
424 THE PLATE OF ROBYN HODE.
ROBYN HODE.
In this forest I have a hounde, I wyl not give him for an hundreth pound. Geve me leve my home to blowe, That my hounde may knowe.
FRYER.
Blowe on, ragged knave, without any doubts,
Untyll bothe thyne eyes starte out.
Here be a sorte of ragged knaves come in,
Clothed all in Kendale grene,
And to the they take their way nowe.
ROBTN HODE.
Peradventure they do so. 100
FRYER.
I gave the leve to blowe at thy wyll, Now give me leve to whistell my fyll.
ROBYN HODE.
Whystell, frere, evyl mote thou fare, Untyll bothe thyne eyes stare.
FRYER.
Now Cut and Bause!
Breng forth the clubbes and staves,
And downe with those ragged knaves !
ROBYN HODE.
How sayest thou, frere, wylt thou be my man,
To do me the best servyse thou can ?
Thou shalt have both golde and fee, no
And also here is a lady free,
I wyll geve her unto the,
And her chapplayn I the make,
To serve her for my sake.
FRYER.
Here is a buckle duckle, an inch above the buckle 5 |
||
|
|
||
|
104, starte, C. |
||
|
|
||