Robin did adown his hood,
The monk when that he see;
The monk was not so courteyous,
His hood then let he be.
"He is a churl, master, by dere-worthy God,"
Then said Little John.
"Thereof no force," said Rob-in,
"For courtesy can he none.
How man-y men," said Rob-in,
"Had this monk, John?"
"Fifty and two when that we met,
But many of them be gone."
"Let blow a horn," said Robin,
"That fellowship may us know."
Seven score of wight yeomen,
Came pricking on a row,
And everich of them a good mant-ell,
Of scarlet and of ray,
All they came to good Rob-in,
To wite what he would say.
They made the monk to wash and wipe,
And sit at his dinere,
Robin Hood and Little John
They served them both infere.
"Do gladly, monk," said Robin.
"Gram-ercy, sir," said he.
"Where is your abbey, whan ye are at home,
And who is your avow-e?"
"Saint Mary abbey," said the monk,
"Though I be simple here."
"In what offic-e?" said Rob-in.
"Sir, the high cellarer."
"Ye be the more welcome," said Rob-in,
"So ever mote I thee.
Fill of the best wine," said Rob-in,
"This monk shall drink to me.
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