When they failed of the garland ROBIN smote them full sore. At the last shot, that ROBIN shot For all his friends' fare; Yet he failed of the garland Three fingers and more. Then bespake good GILBERT, And thus he 'gan say, "Master," he said, "your tackle is lost, Stand forth and take your pay!" "If it be so," said ROBIN, "That may no better be; Sir Abbot, I deliver thee mine arrow! I pray thee, Sir, serve thou me!" "It falleth not for mine order," said our King, "ROBIN, by thy leave, For to smite no good yeoman, For doubt I should him grieve." "Smite on boldly," said ROBIN, "I give thee large leave!" Anon our King, with that word, He folded up his sleeve, And such a buffet he gave ROBIN, To ground he yede full near. "I make mine avow to God," said ROBIN, "Thou art a stalwart frere! There is pith in thine arm," said ROBIN, "I trow thou canst well shoot." Thus our King and ROBIN HOOD, Together then they met. ROBIN beheld our comely King, Wistly in the face: So did Sir RICHARD AT THE LEE, And kneeled down in that place. And so did all the wild outlaws, When they see them kneel. "My Lord, the King of England, Now I know you well." "Mercy, then, ROBIN," said our King, "Under your trystel tree, Of thy goodness and thy grace, For my men and me!" "Yes, for God!" said ROBIN, "and also God me save! I ask mercy, my Lord the King, And for my men I crave!" "Yes, for God!" then said our King, "And thereto 'sent I me; With that thou leave the green wood, And all thy company; And come home, Sir, to my Court, And there dwell with me." "I make mine avow to God!" said ROBIN, "And right so shall it be, I will come to your Court, Your service for to see! And bring with me, of my men, Seven score and three. But me like well your service, I come again full soon; And shoot at the dun deer As I wont to done." +The eighth fytte.+