Then unto the bank he did presently wade, 85 And pull'd himself out by a thorn; Which done, at the last, he blow'd a loud blast Straitway on his fine bugle-horn: The eccho of which through the vallies did fly, At which his stout bowmen appear'd, 90 All cloathed in green, most gay to be seen, So up to their master they steer'd. "O what's the matter?" quoth William Stutely; "Good master, you are wet to the skin." "No matter," quoth he; "the lad which you see 95 In fighting hath tumbl'd me in." "He shall not go scot-free," the others reply'd; So strait they were seizing him there, To duck him likewise; but Robin Hood cries, "He is a stout fellow, forbear. 100 "There's no one shall wrong thee, friend, be not afraid; These bowmen upon me do wait; There's threescore and nine; if thou wilt be mine, Thou shalt have my livery strait: "And other accoutrements fit for a man; 105 Speak up, jolly blade, never fear. I'll teach you also the use of the bow, To shoot at the fat fallow-deer." "O here is my hand," the stranger reply'd, "I'll serve you with all my whole heart; 110 My name is John Little, a man of good mettle; Ne'er doubt me, for I'll play my part." "His name shall be alter'd," quoth William Stutely, "And I will his godfather be; Prepare then a feast, and none of the least, 115 For we will be merry," quoth he. They presently fetch'd in a brace of fat does, With humming strong liquor likewise; They lov'd what was good; so, in the green-wood, This pretty sweet babe they baptize. 120 He was, I must tell you, but seven foot high, And, may be, an ell in the waste; A pretty sweet lad; much feasting they had; Bold Robin the christ'ning grac'd, With all his bowmèn, which stood in a ring, 125 And were of the Nottingham breed; Brave Stutely comes then, with seven yeomèn, And did in this manner proceed. "This infant was called John Little," quoth he; "Which name shall be changed anon; 130 The words we'll transpose, so whereever he goes, His name shall be call'd Little John." They all with a shout made the elements ring, So soon as the office was o'er; To feasting they went, with true merriment, 135 And tippl'd strong liquor gillore. Then Robin he took the pretty sweet babe, And cloath'd him from top to the toe In garments of green, most gay to be seen, And gave him a curious long bow. 140 "Thou shalt be an archer as well as the best, And range in the green-wood with us; "Where we'll not want gold nor silver, behold, While bishops have ought in their purse.