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A LTTELL GESTE OF EOBTN HODE.
" Shyt the gates, and drawe the bridge,
And let no man com in; And arme you well, and make you redy,
And to the walle ye wynne.
" For one thyng, Eobyn, I the behote,
I swere by saynt Quyntyn, These twelve dayes thou wonest with me,
To suppe, ete, and dyne."
Bordes were layed, and clothes spred,
Reddely and anone; Robyn Hode and his mery men
To mete gan they gone.
THE SYXTE ITTTE.
Lythe and lysten, gentylmen, And herken unto your songe,
How the proude sheryfe of Notyngham, And men of armes stronge, •
Full faste came to the hye sheryfe,
The countre up to rout, And they beset the knyghts castell,
The walles all about.
The proude sheryfe loude gan crye, And sayd, " Thou traytour knyght,
Thou kepeste here the kynges enemye, Agayne the lawes and ryght."