+Argument.+--The narrative of the knight’s loan is for the moment dropped, in order to relate a gest of Little John, who is now (81.2) the knight’s ‘knave’ or squire. Going forth ‘upon a mery day,’ Little John shoots with such skill that he attracts the attention of the Sheriff of Nottingham (who is here and elsewhere the type of Robin Hood’s enemies), and enters his service for a year under the name of Reynold Greenleaf. While the sheriff is hunting, Little John fights his servants, robs his treasure-house, and escapes back to Robin Hood with ‘three hundred pound and more.’ He then bethinks him of a shrewd wile, and inveigles the sheriff to leave his hunting in order to see a right fair hart and seven score of deer, which turn out to be Robin and his men. Robin Hood exacts an oath of the sheriff, equivalent to an armistice; and he returns home, having had his fill of the greenwood. THE THIRD FYTTE 144. Lyth and lystyn, gentilmen, All that now be here; Of Litell Johnn, that was the knightës man, Goode myrth ye shall here. 145. It was upon a mery day That yonge men wolde go shete; Lytell Johnn fet his bowe anone, And sayde he wolde them mete. 146. Thre tymes Litell Johnn shet aboute, And alwey he slet the wande; The proudë sherif of Notingham By the markës can stande. 147. The sherif swore a full greate othe: ‘By hym that dyede on a tre, This man is the best arschere That ever yet sawe I me. 148. ‘Say me nowe, wight yonge man, What is nowe thy name? In what countrë were thou borne, And where is thy wonynge wane?’ 149. ‘In Holdernes, sir, I was borne, I-wys al of my dame; Men cal me Reynolde Grenëlef Whan I am at home.’ 150. ‘Sey me, Reynolde Grenëlefe, Wolde thou dwell with me? And every yere I woll thee gyve Twenty marke to thy fee.’ 151. ‘I have a maister,’ sayde Litell Johnn, ‘A curteys knight is he; May ye levë gete of hym, The better may it be.’ 152. The sherif gate Litell John Twelve monethës of the knight; Therefore he gave him right anone A gode hors and a wight. 153. Nowe is Litell John the sherifes man, God lende us well to spede! But alwey thought Lytell John To quyte hym wele his mede. 154. ‘Nowe so God me helpe,’ sayde Litell John, ‘And by my true leutye, I shall be the worst servaunt to hym That ever yet had he.’ 155. It fell upon a Wednesday The sherif on huntynge was gone, And Litel John lay in his bed, And was foriete at home. 156. Therfore he was fastinge Til it was past the none; ‘Gode sir stuarde, I pray to thee, Gyve me my dynere,’ saide Litell John. 157. ‘It is longe for Grenëlefe Fastinge thus for to be; Therfor I pray thee, sir stuarde, Mi dyner gif me.’