But me like well your serv-ice,
I come again full soon,
And shoot at the donn-e deer,
As I am wont to doon."
THE EIGHTH FYTTE.
"Hast thou any green cloth," said our king,
"That thou wilt sell now to me?"
"Yea, fore God," said Robin.
"Thirty yards and three."
"Robin," said our king,
"Now pray I thee,
To sell me some of that cloth,
To me and my meyn-e."
"Yes, fore God," then said Rob-in,
"Or else I were a fool;
Another day ye will me clothe,
I trow, against the Yule."
The king cast off his cot-e then,
A green garment he did on,
And every knight had so, i-wis,
They cloth-ed them full soon.
When they were clothed in Lincoln green,
They cast away their gray.
Now we shall to Nottingham,
All thus our king gan say.
Their bows they bent and forth they went,
Shooting all in-fere,
Toward the town of Nottingham,
Outlaws as they were.
Our king and Robin rode together,
For sooth as I you say,
And they shot pluck-buffet,
As they went by the way;
And many a buffet our king wan,
Of Robin Hood that day:
And nothing spar-ed good Rob-in
Our king in his pay.
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