But I have great marvel," said Rob-in,
"Of all this long-e day,
I dread Our Lady be wroth with me,
She sent me not my pay."
"Have no doubt, master," said Little John,
"Ye have no need I say,
This monk it hath brought, I dare well swear,
For he is of her abbay."
"And she was a borow," said Robin,
"Between a knight and me,
Of a little money that I him lent,
Under the green wood tree;
And if thou hast that silver i-brought,
I pray thee let me see,
And I shall help thee eftsoons,
If thou have need of me."
The monk swore a full great oath,
With a sorry cheer,
"Of the borowhood thou speakest to me,
Heard I never ere!"
"I make mine avow to God," said Robin,
"Monk, thou art to blame,
For God is hold a righteous man,
And so is his dame.
Thou toldest with thine own tongue,
Thou may not say nay,
How that thou art her serv-ant
And servest her every day,
And thou art made her messenger,
My money for to pay,
Therefore I con thee more thank,
Thou art come at thy day.
What is in your coffers?" said Robin,
"True then tell thou me."
"Sir," he said, "twenty mark,
All so mote I thee.
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