50. Little John was sore aggrieved, And drew out his sword on high; This monkë saw he should be dead, Loud mercy can he cry. 51. ‘He was my master,’ said Little John, ‘That thou hast brought in bale; Shall thou never come at our king, For to tell him tale.’ 52. John smote off the monkës head, No longer would he dwell; So did Much the little page, For fear lest he would tell. 53. There they buriëd them both, In neither moss nor ling, And Little John and Much in fere Bare the letters to our king. 54. ... ... ... He kneelëd down upon his knee: ‘God you save, my liegë lord, Jesus you save and see! 55. ‘God you save, my liegë king!’ To speak John was full bold; He gave him the letters in his hand, The king did it unfold. 56. The king read the letters anon, And said, ‘So mote I the, There was never yeoman in merry England I longëd so sore to see. 57. ‘Where is the monk that these should have brought?’ Our king can say: ‘By my troth,’ said Little John, ‘He died after the way.’ 58. The king gave Much and Little John Twenty pound in certain, And made them yeomen of the crown, And bade them go again. 59. He gave John the seal in hand, The sheriff for to bear, To bring Robin him to, And no man do him dere. 60. John took his leave at our king, The sooth as I you say; The next way to Nottingham To take, he yede the way. 61. When John came to Nottingham The gatës were sparred each one; John callëd up the porter, He answerëd soon anon. 62. ‘What is the cause,’ said Little John, ‘Thou sparrës the gates so fast?’ ‘Because of Robin Hood,’ said the porter, ‘In deep prison is cast. 63. ‘John and Much and Will Scathlock, For sooth as I you say, They slew our men upon our wallës, And sauten us every day.’ 64. Little John spyrred after the sheriff, And soon he him found; He opened the kingës privy seal And gave him in his hond. 65. When the sheriff saw the kingës seal, He did off his hood anon; ‘Where is the monk that bare the letters?’ He said to Little John. 66. ‘He is so fain of him,’ said Little John, ‘For sooth as I you say, He has made him abbot of Westminster, A lord of that abbay.’ 67. The sheriff made John good cheer, And gave him wine of the best; At night they went to their bed, And every man to his rest. 68. When the sheriff was on sleep, Drunken of wine and ale, Little John and Much for sooth Took the way unto the jail. 69. Little John callëd up the jailor; And bade him rise anon; He said Robin Hood had broken prison, And out of it was gone. 70. The porter rose anon certain, As soon as he heard John call; Little John was ready with a sword, And bare him to the wall.