"
"I have none other," said the knight,
"The sooth for to say,
But if it be our dear Lad-y,
She failed me ne'er ere this day."
"By dere-worthy God," then said Rob-in,
"To seek all England thorowe,
Yet found I never to my pay,
A much better borowe.
Come now forth, Little John,
And go to my treasur-y,
And bring me fo-ur hundred pound,
And look that it well told be."
Forth then went Little John,
And Scathelock went before,
He told out fo-ur hundred pound,
By eighteen-e score.
"Is this well told?" said Little Much.
John said, "What grieveth thee?
It is alms to help a gentle knight
That is fall in povert-y.
Master," then said Little John,
"His clothing is full thin,
Ye must give the knight a liver-ay,
To wrap his bod-y therein.
For ye have scarl-et and green, mast-er,
And many a rich array,
There is no merch-ant in merry Engl-and
So rich, I dare well say."
"Take him three yards of every colo-ur,
And look that well mete it be."
Little John took none other meas-ure
But his bow-e tree,
And of every handfull that he met
He leapt ouer foot-es three.
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