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ROBIN HOOD AND HIS MEINY
CLXIV
' I make mine avow to God,' said the cookr
i Thou art a shrewd hind, In an household to dwell,
For to ask thus to dine.'
CLXV
And there he lent Little John,
Good strokes three. ' I make mine avow,' said Little John,
' These strokes liketh well me.
CLXVI
' Thou art a bold man and an hardy,
And so thinketh me ; And or I pass from this place,
Assay'd better shalt thou be.'
CLXVII
Little John drew a good sword,
The cook took another in hand; They thought nothing for to flee,
But stiffly for to stand.
CLXVIII
There they fought sore together,
Two mile way and more, Might neither other harm done,
The mountenance of an hour.
CLXIX
'1 make mine avow to God,' said Little John,
' And by my true lewte, Thou art one of the best swordsmen
That ever yet saw I me.
hind] knave, servant. lent] gave. mountenance]
extent, space. |
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