"For now am I weppynlesse," seid Robyne, 115 "Alasse, agayn my wylle; But if I may fle these traytors fro, I wot thei wil me kylle." Robyns men to the churche ran Throout hem euerilkon; 120 Sum fel in swonyng as thei were dede, And lay still as any stone. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Non of theym were in her mynde But only Litulle Jon. "Let be your dule," seid Litulle Jon,[L125] 125 "For his luf that dyed on tre; Ze that shulde be duzty men, Hit is gret shame to se. "Oure maister has bene hard bystode, And zet scapyd away; 130 Pluk up your hertes and leve this mone, And herkyn what I shal say. "He has seruyd our lady many a day, And zet wil securly; Therefore I trust in her specialy 135 No wycked deth shal he dye. "Therfor be glad," seid Litul Johne, "And let this mournyng be, And I shall be the munkes gyde, With the myght of mylde Mary. 140 "And I mete hym," seid Litull Johne, "We wille go but we too * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Loke that ze kepe wel our tristil tre Vnder the levys smale, And spare non of this venyson 145 That gose in thys vale." Forthe thei went these zemen too, Litul Johne and Moche onfere, And lokid on Moche emys hows The hyeway lay fulle nere. 150 Litul John stode at a window in the mornynge, And lokid forth at a stage; He was war wher the munke came ridynge, And with hym a litul page. "Be my feith," seid Litul Johne to Moche, 155 "I can the tel tithyngus gode; I se wher the munk comys rydyng, I know hym be his wyde hode." Thei went into the way these zemen bothe, As curtes men and hende, 160 Thei spyrred tithyngus at the munke, As thei hade bene his frende. "Fro whens come ze," seid Litul Johne; "Tel vs tithyngus, I yow pray, Off a false owtlay [called Robyn Hode], 165 Was takyn zisturday. "He robbyt me and my felowes bothe Of xx marke in serten; If that false owtlay be takyn, For sothe we wolde be fayne." 170 "So did he me," seid the munke, "Of a C pound and more; I layde furst hande hym apon, Ze may thonke me therfore." "I pray God thanke yow," seid Litulle Johne, 175 "And we wil when we may; We wil go with yow, with your leve, And brynge yow on your way. "For Robyn Hode hase many a wilde felow, I telle yow in certen; 180 If thei wist ze rode this way, In feith ze shulde be slayn."