"Sir," he said, "four hundred pound, The abb-ot told it to me." "Now, an thou lose thy land," said Robin, "What shall fall of thee?" "Hastily I will me busk," said the knight, "Over the salt-e sea, And see where Christ was quick and dead, On the mount of Calvar-y. Fare well, friend, and have good day, It may no better be"-- Tears fell out of his eyen two, He would have gone his way-- "Fare well, friends, and have good day, I ne have more to pay." "Where be thy friends?" said Rob-in. "Sir, never one will me know; While I was rich enow at home Great boast then would they blow, And now they run away from me, As beast-es on a row; They take no more heed of me Than they me never saw." For ruth-e then wept Little John, Scathelocke and Much also. "Fill of the best wine," said Rob-in, "For here is a simple cheer. Hast thou any friends," said Robin, "Thy borowes that will be?" "I have none," then said the knight, "But him that died on a tree." "Do way thy jap-es!" said Rob-in, "Thereof will I right none; Weenest thou I will have God to borowe? Peter, Paul, or John? Nay, by him that me made, And shope both sun and moon, Find a better borowe," said Robin, "Or money gettest thou none." "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. "What devilkyns draper," said Little Much, "Thinkest thou to be?" Scathelock stood full still and lough, And said, "By God allmight, John may give him the better meas-ure, For it cost him but light."