11 ‘Now, by my troth,’ says good Robin, ‘I see well by thy fare, If thou chear well to thy supper, Of mine thou takes no care; 12 ‘Who wants my dinner all the day, And wots not where to lie, And should I to the tavern go, I want money to buy. 13 ‘Sir, thou must lend me some money, Till we two meet again:’ The beggar answerd cankerdly, I have no money to lend. 14 Thou art as young a man as I, And seems to be as sweer; If thou fast till thou get from me, Thou shalt eat none this year. 15 ‘Now, by my troth,’ says good Robin, ‘Since we are sembled so, If thou have but a small farthing, I’ll have it ere thou go. 16 ‘Therefore, lay down thy clouted cloak, And do no longer stand, And loose the strings of all thy pocks; I’ll ripe them with my hand. 17 ‘And now to thee I make a vow, If thou make any din, I shall see if a broad arrow Can pierce a beggar’s skin.’ 18 The beggar smil’d, and answer made: Far better let me be; Think not that I will be afraid For thy nip crooked tree. 19 Or that I fear thee any whit For thy curn nips of sticks; I know no use for them so meet As to be pudding-pricks. 20 Here I defy thee to do me ill, For all thy boistrous fare; Thou’s get nothing from me but ill, Would thou seek it evermair. 21 Good Robin bent his noble bow— He was an angry man— And in it set a broad arrow; Yet er ’twas drawn a span, 22 The beggar, with his noble tree, Reacht him so round a rout That his bow and his broad arrow In flinders flew about. 23 Good Robin bound him to his brand, But that provd likewise vain; The beggar lighted on his hand With his pike-staff again. 24 I wot he might not draw a sword For forty days and more; Good Robin could not speak a word, His heart was never so sore. 25 He could not fight, he could not flee, He wist not what to do; The beggar, with his noble tree, Laid lusty flaps him to. 26 He paid good Robin back and side, And beft him up and down, And with his pike-staff still on laid Till he fell in a swoon. 27 ‘Fy! stand up, man,’ the beggar said, ‘’Tis shame to go to rest; Stay still till thou get thy mony [told], I think it were the best. 28 ‘And syne go to the tavern-house, And buy both wine and ale; Hereat thy friends will crack full crouse, Thou has been at a dale.’ 29 Good Robin answerd never a word, But lay still as a stane; His cheeks were white as any clay, And closed were his eyne. 30 The beggar thought him dead but fail, And boldly bownd away; I would you had been at the dale, And gotten part of the play. 31 Now three of Robin’s men, by chance, Came walking on the way, And found their master in a trance, On ground where he did lie.