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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' Thou liest,' then said Little John,
' And that shall rue thee; He is a yeoman of the forest,
To dine he hath bidden thee.'
Much was ready with a bolt,
Rathely and anon, He set the Monk to-fore the breast
To the ground that he gan gon.
ccxxiv Of two and fifty wight yeomen
There abode not one, Save a little page and a groom
To lead the somers on.
ccxxv They brought the Monk to the lodge door,
Whether he were loath or lief, For to speak with Robin Hood,
Maugre in his teeth.
ccxxvi Robin did a-down his hood,
The Monk when that he see ; The Monk was not so courteous,
His hood he lette be.
ccxxvn i He is a churl, by dear-worth God,'
Then said Little John. ' Thereof no force,' said Robin Hood,
' For courtesy can be none.'
bolt] a blunt arrow. Rathely] quickly.        set.. . to-fore]
hit upon.          gan gon] did go.          lief] glad.           Maugre
in his teeth] in spite of him.          no force] no matter.
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