“But cast you sliely in his way, Before he be aware, And on his pyke-staff first hands lay, Ye’ll speed the better far.” Now leave we Robin with this man, Again to play the child, And learn himself to stand and gang By halds, for all his eild. Now pass we to the bold beggàr, That raked o’er the hill, Who never mended his pace more, Then he had done no ill. {106} . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . And they have taken another way,[260] Was nearer by miles three. They stoutly ran with all their might, Spared neither dub ‘nor’ mire, They started at neither how nor height, No travel made them tire, Till they before the beggar wan, And cast them in his way ; A little wood lay in a glen, And there they both did stay ; They stood up closely by a tree, In each side of the gate, Untill the beggar came them nigh, That thought of no such late : And as he was betwixt them past, They leapt upon him baith ; The one his pyke-staff gripped fast, They feared for its skaith. The other he held in his sight A drawen durk to his breast, And said, False ‘carel,’ quit thy staff, Or I shall be thy priest. {107} His pyke-staff they have taken him frae, And stuck it in the green, He was full loath to let it gae, An better might it been. The beggar was the feardest man Of any that e’er might be, To win away no way he can, Nor help him with his tree. Nor wist he wherefore he was ta’en, Nor how many was there ; He thought his life days had been gane, He grew into dispair. Grant me my life, the beggar said, For him that dy’d on the tree, And hold away that ugly knife, Or else for fear I’ll die. I griev’d you never in all my life, Neither by late or air, You have great sin if you would slay A silly poor beggàr. Thou lies, false lown, they said again, For all that may be sworn ; Thou hast ‘near’ slain the gentlest man Of one that e’er was born ; {108} And back again thou shall be led, And fast bound shalt thou be, To see if he will have thee slain, Or hanged on a tree. The beggar then thought all was wrong, They were set for his wrack, He saw nothing appearing then But ill upon warse back. Were he out of their hands, he thought, And had again his tree, He should not be led back for nought, With such as he did see. Then he bethought him on a wile, If it could take effect, How he might the young men beguile, And give them a begeck.[261] Thus to do them shame for ill His beastly breast was bent, He found the wind blew something shrill, To further his intent. He said, Brave gentlemen, be good, And let a poor man be : When ye have taken a beggar’s blood, It helps you not a flee. {109} It was but in my own defence, If he has gotten skaith ; But I will make a recompence Is better for you baith.