"It is far to my lodging house, And it is growing late; If they have supt e'er I come in I will look wondrous blate." 40 "Now, by my truth," says good Robin, "I see well by thy fare, If thou chear well to thy supper, Of mine thou takes no care; "Who wants my dinner all this day, 45 And wots not where to lie, And should I to the tavern go, I want money to buy. "Sir, thou must lend me some money Till we two meet again:" 50 The beggar answer'd cankerdly, "I have no money to lend. "Thou art as young a man as I, And seems to be as sweir; If thou fast till thou get from me, 55 Thou shalt eat none this year." "Now, by my truth," says good Robin, "Since we are 'sembled so, If thou have but a small farthing, I'll have it e'er thou go. 60 "Therefore, lay down thy clouted cloak, And do no longer stand, And loose the strings of all thy pocks, I'll ripe them with my hand. "And now to thee I make a vow, 65 If thou make any din, I shall see if a broad arrow, Can pierce a beggar's skin." The beggar smil'd, and answer made, "Far better let me be; 70 Think not that I will be afraid For thy nip crooked tree. "Or that I fear thee any whit For thy curn nips of sticks; I know no use for them so meet 75 As to be pudding-pricks. "Here I defy thee to do me ill, For all thy boisterous fare; Thou'st get nothing from me but ill, Would'st thou seek evermair." 80 Good Robin bent his noble bow, He was an angery man, And in it set a broad arròw; Yet erst was drawn a span, The beggar, with his noble tree, 85 Reach'd him so round a rout, That his bow and his broad arròw In flinders flew about. Good Robin bound him to his brand, But that prov'd likewise vain, The beggar lighted on his hand With his pike-staff again. I wot he might not draw a sword For forty days and mair; Good Robin could not speak a word, 95 His heart was never so sair. He could not fight, he could not flee, He wist not what to do; The beggar with his noble tree Laid lusty flaps him to. 100 He paid good Robin back and side, And beft him up and down, And with his pike-staff still laid on hard, Till he fell in a swoon. "Fy, stand up, man," the beggar said, 105 "'Tis shame to go to rest; Stay still till thou get my money, I think it were the best.