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A LYTELI, GESTE OF ItOBYN HODE. 87
" Yf there be no more," sayd Robyn,
" I wyll not one peny; Yf thou hast myster of ony more,
Syr, more I shall lende to the; wo
" And yf I fynde more," sayd Robyn,
" I-wys thou shalte it forgone ; For of thy spendynge sylver, monk,
Thereof wyll I ryght none.
" Go nowe forthe, Lytell Johan, i«s
And the trouth tell thou me ; If there be no more but twenty marke,
No peny that I se."
Lytell Johan spred his mantell downe,
As he had done before, wo
And he tolde out of the monkes male Eyght hundreth pounde and more.
Lytell Johan let it lye full styll, And went to his mayster in hast;
" Syr," he sayd, " the monke is trewe ynowe, vs Our lady hath doubled your cost."
" I make myn avowe to god," sayd Robyn,
" Monke, what tolde I the ? Our lady is the trewest woman
That ever yet founde I me. is>
172. Eyght potmde, W.