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ROBIN HOOD AND THE MONK
LXXVIII
' I have done the a gode turne,' seid Litull John,
' Fforsothe as I yow say ;
I have brought the under grene-wode lyne j Ffare wel, and have gode day.'
LXXIX
' Nay, be my trouth,' seid Robyn Hode,
' So shall hit never be;
I make the maister,' seid Robyn Hode, ' Off alle my men and me.'
LXXX
'Nay, be my trouth,' seid Litull John,
' So shalle hit never be ; But lat me be a felow,' seid Litull John,
' No noder kepe I be.'
LXXXI
Thus John gate Robyn Hode out of prison,
Sertan withoutyn layn; Whan his men saw hym hoi and sounde,
Fforsothe they were full fayne.
LXXXII
They filled in wyne. and made hem glad,
Under the levys smale, And yete pastes of venyson,
That god£ was with ale.
LXXXIII
Than worde came to oure Kyng
How Robyn Hode was gon, And how the Scheref of Notyngham
Durst never loke hym upon.
kepe I be] care I to be. yete] ate.
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