247. Lytell Johan spred his mantell downe, As he had done before, And he tolde out of the monkës male Eyght hondred pounde and more. 248. Lytell Johan let it lye full styll, And went to his mayster in hast; ‘Syr,’ he sayd, ‘the monke is trewe ynowe, Our Lady hath doubled your cast.’ 249. ‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayd Robyn-- ‘Monke, what tolde I thee?-- Our Lady is the trewest woman That ever yet founde I me. 250. ‘By dere worthy God,’ sayd Robyn, ‘To seche all Englond thorowe, Yet founde I never to my pay A moche better borowe. 251. ‘Fyll of the best wyne, and do hym drynke,’ sayd Robyn, ‘And grete well thy lady hende, And yf she have nede to Robyn Hode, A frende she shall hym fynde. 252. ‘And yf she nedeth ony more sylver, Come thou agayne to me, And, by this token she hath me sent, She shall have such thre.’ 253. The monke was goynge to London ward, There to hold grete mote, The knyght that rode so hye on hors, To brynge hym under fote. 254. ‘Whether be ye away?’ sayd Robyn. ‘Syr, to maners in this londe, To reken with our reves, That have done moch wronge.’ 255. ‘Come now forth, Lytell Johan, And harken to my tale; A better yemen I knowe none, To seke a monkës male.’ 256. ‘How moch is in yonder other corser?’ sayd Robyn, ‘The soth must we see.’ ‘By Our Lady,’ than sayd the monke, ‘That were no curteysye, 257. ‘To bydde a man to dyner, And syth hym bete and bynde.’ ‘It is our olde maner,’ sayd Robyn, ‘To leve but lytell behynde.’ 258. The monke toke the hors with spore, No lenger wolde he abyde: ‘Askë to drynke,’ than sayd Robyn, ‘Or that ye forther ryde.’ 259. ‘Nay, for God,’ than sayd the monke, ‘Me reweth I cam so nere; For better chepe I myght have dyned In Blythe or in Dankestere.’ 260. ‘Grete well your abbot,’ sayd Robyn, ‘And your pryour, I you pray, And byd hym send me such a monke To dyner every day.’ 261. Now lete we that monke be styll, And speke we of that knyght: Yet he came to holde his day, Whyle that it was lyght. 262. He dyde him streyt to Bernysdale, Under the grene-wode tre, And he founde there Robyn Hode, And all his mery meynë. 263. The knyght lyght doune of his good palfray, Robyn whan he gan see; So curteysly he dyde adoune his hode, And set hym on his knee. 264. ‘God the savë, Robyn Hode, And all this company!’ ‘Welcome be thou, gentyll knyght, And ryght welcome to me.’ 265. Than bespake hym Robyn Hode, To that knyght so fre; ‘What nede dryveth thee to grene-wode? I praye thee, syr knyght, tell me. 266. ‘And welcome be thou, gentyll knyght, Why hast thou be so longe?’ ‘For the abbot and the hye justyce Wolde have had my londe.’