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10 EOBIN HOOD AND THE MONK.
Litulle Johne was sore agrevyd, And drew out his swerde in hye ;
The munke saw he shulde be ded, Lowd mercy can he crye.
" He was my maister," seid Litulle Johne " That thou hase browzt in bale ;
Shalle thou neuer cum at oure kynge For to telle hym tale."
John smote of the munkes hed,
No longer wolde he dwelle; So did Moche the litulle page,
For ferd lest he wold tell.
Ther thei beryed hem both
In nouther mosse nor lynge, And Litulle Johne and Muche infere
Bare the letturs to oure kyng.
He kneled down vpon his kne,
" God zow saue, my lege lorde, " Jesus yow saue and se.
" God yow saue, my lege kyng," To speke Johne was fulle bolde ;
He gaf hym the letturs in his hond, The kyng did hit unfold.
195. MS. so.