And comming to the middle streame, There he threw Robin in : “And chuse thee, chuse thee, fine fellòw, Whether thou wilt sink or swim.” Robin Hood swam to a bush of broome, The fryer to a wigger-wand ; Bold Robin Hood is gone to shore, And took his bow in his hand. One of his best arrowes under his belt To the fryer he let fly ; The curtall fryer, with his steele bucklèr, Did put that arrow by. “Shoot on, shoot on, thou fine fellòw, Shoot as thou hast begun, If thou shoot here a summers day, Thy marke I will not shun.” Robin Hood shot passing well, Till his arrows all were gane ; They tooke their swords and steele bucklèrs, They fought with might and maine, From ten o’th’ clock that [very] day, Till four i’ th’ afternoon ; Then Robin Hood came to his knees, Of the fryer to beg a boone. {214} “A boone, a boone, thou curtall fryer, I beg it on my knee ; Give me leave to set my horne to my mouth, And to blow blasts three.” That I will do, said the curtall fryer, Of my blasts I have no doubt ; I hope thoult blow so passing well, Till both thy eyes fall out. Robin Hood set his horne to his mouth, He blew out blasts three ; Halfe a hundreth yeomen, with bowes bent, Came raking over the lee. Whose men are these, said the fryèr, That come so hastily ? These men are mine, said Robin Hood ; Fryer, what is that to thee ? A boone, a boone, said the curtall fryer, The like I gave to thee ; Give me leave to set my fist to my mouth, And to whute whues three. That will I doe, said Robin Hood, Or else I were to blame ; Three whues in a fryers fist Would make me glad and faine. {215} The fryer set his fist to his mouth, And whuted whues three : Half a hundred good band-dogs Came running over the lee. “Here’s for every man a dog, And I myselfe for thee.” Nay, by my faith, said Robin Hood, Fryer, that may not be. Two dogs at once to Robin Hood did goe, The one behind, the other before, Robin Hoods mantle of Lincolne greene Off from his backe they tore. And whether his men shot east or west, Or they shot north or south, The curtall dogs, so taught they were, They kept ‘the’ arrows in their mouth. Take up thy dogs, said Little John, Fryer, at my bidding be. Whose man art thou, said the curtall fryer, Comes here to prate with me ? “I am Little John, Robin Hoods man, Fryer, I will not lie ; If thou take not up thy dogs soone, I’le take up them and thee.” {216} Little John had a bow in his hand, He shot with might and main ; Soon halfe a score of the fryers dogs Lay dead upon the plain. Hold thy hand, good fellow, said the curtall fryer, Thy master and I will agree ; And we will have new orders taken, With all the hast may be. “If thou wilt forsake fair Fountaines-dale, And Fountaines-Abbey free, Every Sunday throwout the yeere, A noble shall be thy fee :