Nay be my trouthe, seid Robyn Hode, So shalle hit neuer be, I make the maister, seid Robyne Hode, Off alle my men and me. Nay be my trouthe, seid litulle Johne, So shall hit neuer be, But lat me be a felow, seid litulle Johne, No nodur kepe I’ll be. Thus Johne gate Robyn Hode out of prisone Sertan withoutyn layne, When his men saw hym hol and sounde For sothe they were ful fayne. {384} They filled in wyne, and made him glad Vndur the levys smale, And zete pastes of venysone That gode was ‘withal.’[358] Than worde came to our kynge, How Robyn Hode was gone, And how the scheref of Notyngham Durst neuer loke hyme vpone. Then bespake oure cumly kynge, In an angur hye, Litulle Johne hase begyled the schereff, In faith so hase he me. Litulle Johne has begyled vs bothe, And that fulle wel I se, Or ellis the schereff of Notyngham Hye hongut shuld he be. I made hem zemen of the crowne, And gaf hem fee with my hond, I gaf hem grithe, seid oure kyng, Thorowout alle mery Inglond. I gaf hem grithe, then seid oure kyng, I say, so mot I the, For sothe soche a zeman as he is on In alle Ingland ar not thre. {385} He is trew to his maister, seid oure kynge, I sey, be swete seynt Johne, He louys bettur Robyn Hode, Then he dose vs ychone. Robyne Hode is euer bond to him, Bothe in strete and stalle, Speke no ‘more’[359] of this matter, seid our kynge, But John has begyled vs alle. Thus endys the talkyng of the munke, And Robyne Hode I wysse ; God, that is euer a crowned kyng, Bryng vs alle to his blisse. [Illustration] FOOTNOTES TO “APPENDIX”, pp. 341–385 [333] Maister. C. [334] Ell. C. [335] You. you. C. [336] Donee. C. [337] Starte. C. [338] A trul of trust was a common phrase. So in the ancient morality of the iiii elements (Sig. E iij 6): “For to satisfye your wanton lust I shall apoynt you a trull of trust, Not a feyrer in this towne.” Again, in Warner’s Albion’s England, 1602: “How cheere you Pan, quoth Pryapus, the shameles god of lust, Thus can i fit such friends as you with such a trull of trust.” [339] Shefes. C. [340] Ballockes. C. [341] How a potter comes to be decked with so elegant and honourable a chaplet, does not seem easy to account for; unless for the reason given by Chaucer, that —“soche araie costnith but lite.”