32 Up have they taken good Robin, Making a piteous bier, Yet saw they no man there at whom They might the matter spear. 33 They looked him all round about, But wounds on him saw none, Yet at his mouth came bocking out The blood of a good vein. 34 Cold water they have taken syne, And cast into his face; Then he began to lift his eyne, And spake within short space. 35 ‘Tell us, dear master,’ says his men, ‘How with you stands the case?’ Good Robin sighd ere he began To tell of his disgrace. 36 ‘I have been watchman in this wood Near hand this forty year, Yet I was never so hard bestead As you have found me here. 37 ‘A beggar with a clouted cloak, In whom I feard no ill, Hath with a pike-staff clawd my back; I fear’t shall never be well. 38 ‘See, where he goes out oer yon hill, With hat upon his head; If ever you lovd your master well, Go now revenge this deed. 39 ‘And bring him back again to me, If it lie in your might, That I may see, before I die, Him punisht in my sight. 40 ‘And if you may not bring him back, Let him not go loose on; For to us all it were great shame If he escapt again.’ 41 ‘One of us shall with you remain, Because you’re ill at ease; The other two shall bring him back, To use him as you please.’ 42 ‘Now, by my troth,’ says good Robin, ‘I trow there’s enough said; If he get scouth to weild his tree, I fear you’ll both be paid.’ 43 ‘Be ye not feard, our good master, That we two can be dung With any blutter base beggar, That hath nought but a rung. 44 ‘His staff shall stand him in no stead; That you shall shortly see; But back again he shall be led, And fast bound shall he be, To see if you will have him slain, Or hanged on a tree.’ 45 ‘But cast you slily in his way, Before he be aware, And on his pike-staff first lay hands; You’ll speed the better far.’ 46 Now leave we Robin with his man, Again to play the child, And learn himself to stand and gang By haulds, for all his eild. 47 Now pass we to the bold beggar, That raked oer the hill, Who never mended his pace no more Nor he had done no ill. 48 The young men knew the country well, So soon where he would be, And they have taken another way, Was nearer by miles three. 49 They rudely ran with all their might, Spar’d neither dub nor mire, They stirred neither at laigh nor hight, No travel made them tire, 50 Till they before the beggar wan, And coost them in his way; A little wood lay in a glen, And there they both did stay. 51 They stood up closely by a tree, In ilk side of the gate, Until the beggar came them to, That thought not of such fate.