Had ROBIN dwelled in the King's Court But twelve months and three; That he had spent an hundred pound, And all his men's fee. In every place where ROBIN came, Evermore he laid down, Both for Knights and for Squires To get him great renown. By then the year was all agone He had no man but twain, Little JOHN and good SCATHELOCK With him all for to gone. ROBIN saw young men shoot Full far upon a day. "Alas," then said good ROBIN, "My wealth is went away! Sometime I was an archer good, A stiff, and eke a strong, I was counted the best archer That was in merry England. Alas," then said good ROBIN, "Alas, and well a wo! If I dwell longer with the King, Sorrow will me slo!" Forth then went ROBIN HOOD, Till he came to our King: "My Lord the King of England, Grant me mine asking! I made a chapel in Bernysdale, That seemly is to see: It is of MARY MAGDALENE; And thereto would I be! I might never in this seven night No time to sleep ne wink; Neither all these seven days Neither eat ne drink: Me longeth sore to Bernysdale. I may not be therefro, Barefoot and woolward I have hight Thither for to go." "If it be so," then said our King, "It may no better be! Seven nights I give thee leave, No longer, to dwell from me." "Grammercy, Lord!" then said ROBIN, And set him on his knee. He took his leave full courteously To green wood then went he. When he came to green wood In a merry morning, There he heard the notes small Of birds, merry singing. "It is far gone," said ROBIN, "That I was last here. Me list a little for to shoot At the dun deer." ROBIN slew a full great hart, His horn then 'gan he blow, That all the outlaws of that forest, That horn could they know. And gathered them together In a little throw, Seven score of wight young men Came ready on a row, And fair did off their hoods And set them on their knee. "Welcome!" they said, "our Master! Under this green-wood tree!" ROBIN dwelled in green wood Twenty years and two; For all dread of EDWARD our King Again would he not go. Yet was he beguiled i-wis Through a wicked woman, The Prioress of Kirkesley. That nigh was of his kin, For the love of a Knight, Sir ROGER of Donkesley. That was her own special (Full evil might they thee!) They took together their counsel ROBIN HOOD for to slee, And how they might best do that deed His banes for to be. Then bespake good ROBIN, In place where as he stood, "To-morrow, I must to Kirkesley Craftily to be let blood!" Sir ROGER of Doncaster, By the Prioress he lay: And there they betrayed good ROBIN HOOD Through their false play. CHRIST have mercy on his soul! (That died on the rood) For he was a good outlaw, And did poor men much good.