Wher is the munke that these shuld haue browzt, Oure kynge can say, Be my trouthe, seid litulle Jone, He dyed aftur the way. {380} The kyng gaf Moche and litul Jon xx pound in sertan, And made theim zemen of the crowne, And bade theim go agayn. He gaf Johne the seel in hand, The scheref for to bere, To brynge Robyn hym to, And no man do hym dere. Johne toke his leve at oure kyng, The sothe as I yow say ; The next way to Notyngham To take he zede the way. Whan Johne came to Notyngham The zatis were sparred ychone, Johne callid vp the porter, He answerid sone anon. What is the cause, seid litul John, Thou sparris the zates so fast ? Because Robyn Hode,[356] seid [the] porter, In depe prison is cast. Johne, and Moche, and Wylle Scathlok, For sothe as I yow say, Thir slew oure men vpon oure wallis, And sawtene vs euery day. {381} Litulle Johne spyrred aftur the schereff, And sone he hym fonde, He oppyned the kyngus priue seelle And gaf hym in his honde. When the schereff saw the kyngus seelle He did of his hode anon, Wher is the munke that bare the letturs ? He seid to litulle Johne. He is so fayn of him, seid litulle Johne, For sothe as I yow sey ; He has made hym abot of Westmynster, A lorde of that abbay. The scheref made John gode chere, And gaf hym wine of the best ; At nyzt thei went to her bedde, And euery man to his rest. When the scheref was on-slepe Dronken of wine and ale, Litul Johne and Moche for sothe Toke the way vnto the gale ; Litul Johne callid vp the jayler, And bade hym rise anon ; He seid Robyn Hode had brokyn preson, And out of hit was gon. {382} The portere rose anon sertan, As sone as he herd John calle ; Litul Johne was redy with a swerd, And bare hym to the walle. Now will I be porter, seid litul Johne, And take the keyes in honde ; He toke the way to Robyn Hode, And sone he hym vnbonde. He gaf hym a gode swerd in his hond, His hed [ther-]with for to kepe, And ther as the walle was lowyst Anon downe can thei lepe. Be that the cok began to crow, The day began to sprynge, The scheref fond the jaylier ded, The comyn belle made he rynge. He made a crye thoroowt al the tow[n], Whedur he be zoman or knave, That cowthe brynge hym Robyn Hode, His warisone he shuld haue. For I dar neuer, said the scheref, Cum before oure kynge ; For if I do I wot serten, For sothe he wil me henge. {383} The scheref made to seke Notyngham, Bothe be strete and stye, And Robyn was in mery Scherwode As lizt as lef on lynde. Then bespake gode litulle Johne To Robyn Hode can he say, I haue done the a gode turne for an euylle, Quyte ‘me’[357] whan thou may. I haue done the a gode turne, said litulle Johne, For sothe as I you saie, I haue brouzt the vndur [the] grene wode lyne, Fare wel, and haue gode day.