Now is the Knight went on his way, This game him thought full good, When he looked on Bernysdale, He blessed ROBIN HOOD: And when he bethought on Bernysdale, On SCATHELOCK, MUCH, and JOHN; He blessed them for the best company That ever he in come. Then spake that gentle Knight, To Little JOHN 'gan he say, "To-morrow, I must to York town, To Saint Mary's Abbey, And to the Abbot of that place Four hundred pound I must pay: And but I be there upon this night My land is lost for aye!" The Abbot said to his Convent, There he stood on ground: "This day twelve months came there a Knight, And borrowed four hundred pound. [He borrowed four hundred pound] Upon his land and fee; But he come this ilk day Disherited shall he be!" "It is full early!" said the Prior, "The day is not yet far gone! I had lever to pay an hundred pound And lay [it] down anon. The Knight is far beyond the sea In England is his right, And suffereth hunger and cold And many a sorry night: It were great pity," said the Prior, "So to have his land: And ye be so light of your conscience Ye do to him much wrong!" "Thou art ever in my beard," said the Abbot; "By God and Saint Richard!" With that came in, a fat-headed monk, The High Cellarer. "He is dead or hanged!" said the Monk, "By God that bought me dear! And we shall have to spend in this place, Four hundred pounds by year!" The Abbot and High Cellarer Start forth full bold: The Justice of England, The Abbot there did hold. The High Justice, and many mo, Had taken into their hand Wholly all the Knight's debt, To put that Knight to wrong. They deemed the Knight wonder sore The Abbot and his meiny, But he come this ilk day Disherited shall he be. "He will not come yet," said the Justice, "I dare well undertake!" But in sorrow time for them all, The Knight came to the gate. Then bespake that gentle Knight Until his meiny, "Now, put on your simple weeds That ye brought from the sea!" [They put on their simple weeds,] They came to the gates anon, The Porter was ready himself, And welcomed them everych one. "Welcome, Sir Knight!" said the Porter; "My Lord, to meat is he; And so is many a gentleman For the love of thee!" The Porter swore a full great oath "By God that made me! Here be the best coresed horse That ever yet saw I me! Lead them into the stable!" he said, "That eased might they be!" "They shall not come therein!" said the Knight, "By God that died on a tree!" Lords were to meat yset In that Abbot's hall: The Knight went forth, and kneeled down, And salued them, great and small. "Do gladly, Sir Abbot!" said the Knight, "I am come to hold my day!" The first word the Abbot spake, "Hast thou brought my pay?" "Not one penny!" said the Knight, "By God that maked me!" "Thou art a shrewd debtor!" said the Abbot;