"I rede thee go with a great rout, For thy foes they ride thick about." "Thou and the devil may keep my foes, Thou redest me this gold to lose." _Deus est Deus pauperum._ "I shall go with but some four or five, So shall I take my thief alive. For if a great rout he shall see, Will he not hide his wealth from me?" _Deus est Deus pauperum._ The old knight muttered under his breath, "Then mayhap ye shall but ride to death." But Maltete turned him quickly round, "Bind me this grey-beard under ground!" _Deus est Deus pauperum._ "Because ye are old, ye think to jape. Take heed, ye shall not long escape. When I come back safe, old carle, perdie, Thine head shall brush the linden-tree." _Deus est Deus pauperum._ Therewith he rode with his five men, And Boncoeur's spy, for good leagues ten, Until they left the beaten way, And dusk it grew at end of day. _Deus est Deus pauperum._ There, in a clearing of the wood, Was John's house, neither fair nor good. In a ragged plot his house anigh, Thin coleworts grew but wretchedly. _Deus est Deus pauperum._ John-a-Wood in his doorway sat, Turning over this and that, And chiefly how he best might thrive, For he had will enough to live. _Deus est Deus pauperum._ Green coleworts from a wooden bowl He ate; but careful was his soul, For if he saw another day, Thenceforth was he in Boncoeur's pay. _Deus est Deus pauperum._ So when he saw how Maltete came, He said, "Beginneth now the game!" And in the doorway did he stand Trembling, with hand joined fast to hand. _Deus est Deus pauperum._ When Maltete did this carle behold Somewhat he doubted of his gold, But cried out, "Where is now thy store Thou hast through books of wicked lore?" _Deus est Deus pauperum._ Then said the poor man, right humbly, "Fair lord, this was not made by me, I found it in mine own dry well, And had a mind thy grace to tell. _Deus est Deus pauperum._ "Therefrom, my lord, a cup I took This day, that thou thereon mightst look, And know me to be leal and true," And from his coat the cup he drew. _Deus est Deus pauperum._ Then Maltete took it in his hand, Nor knew he aught that it used to stand On Boncoeur's cupboard many a day. "Go on," he said, "and show the way. _Deus est Deus pauperum._ "Give me thy gold, and thou shalt live, Yea, in my house thou well mayst thrive." John turned about and 'gan to go Unto the wood with footsteps slow. _Deus est Deus pauperum._ But as they passed by John's woodstack, Growled Maltete, "Nothing now doth lack Wherewith to light a merry fire, And give my wizard all his hire." _Deus est Deus pauperum._ The western sky was red as blood, Darker grew the oaken-wood; "Thief and carle, where are ye gone? Why are we in the wood alone? _Deus est Deus pauperum._ "What is the sound of this mighty horn? Ah, God! that ever I was born! The basnets flash from tree to tree; Show me, thou Christ, the way to flee!" _Deus est Deus pauperum._