The Oxford Book of Ballads - online book

A Selection Of The Best English Lyric Ballads Chosen & Edited by Arthur Quiller-Couch

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' And if she need any more silver,
Come thou again to me, And, by this token she hath me senc, She shall have suche three.'
The Monk was going to Londonward,
There to hold great moot, The Knight that rode so high on horse,
To bring him under foot.
' Whither be ye away ?' said Robin.
' Sir, to manors in this londe, To reckon with our reves,
That have done much wrong.'
cclv ' Come now forth, Little John,
And hearken to my tale, A better yeoman I know none,
To seek a Monkes mail.'
F How much is in yon other forcer ?
The soothe must we see : ' ' By our Lady,' then said the Monk,
' That were no courtesy,
cc lvii
' A man to bidde to dinner,
And sith him beat and bind.' i It is our old manner,' said Robin, ' To leave but little behind.'
moot] meeting, assembly.         seek] search.        mail] wallet,
bag.          forcer] coffer, strong-box.           sith] then.
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