73 And yet we will not have thee back, Come after what so may, If thou will do that which thou spake, And make us present pay. 74 O then he loosd his clouted cloak, And spread it on the ground, And thereon laid he many a pock, Betwixt them and the wind. 75 He took a great bag from his hase; It was near full of meal; Two pecks in it at least there was, And more, I wot full well. 76 Upon his cloak he laid it down, The mouth he opend wide, To turn the same he made him bown, The young men ready spy’d. 77 In every hand he took a nook Of that great leathern meal, And with a fling the meal he shook Into their faces hail. 78 Wherewith he blinded them so close A stime they could not see; And then in heart he did rejoice, And clapt his lusty tree. 79 He thought, if he had done them wrong In mealing of their cloaths, For to strike off the meal again With his pike-staff he goes. 80 Or any one of them could red their eyne, Or yet a glimmering could see, Ilk ane of them a dozen had, Well laid on with the tree. 81 The young men were right swift of foot, And boldly ran away; The beggar could them no more hit, For all the haste he may. 82 ‘What ails this haste?’ the beggar said, ‘May ye not tarry still, Until your money be receivd? I’ll pay you with good will. 83 ‘The shaking of my pocks, I fear, Hath blown into your eyne; But I have a good pike-staff here Will ripe them out full clean.’ 84 The young men answerd neer a word, They were dumb as a stane; In the thick wood the beggar fled, Eer they riped their eyne. 85 And syne the night became so late, To seek him was but vain: But judge ye, if they looked blate When they came home again. 86 Good Robin speard how they had sped; They answerd him, Full ill; ‘That cannot be,’ good Robin says; ‘Ye have been at the mill. 87 ‘The mill it is a meatrif place, They may lick what they please; Most like ye have been at that art, Who would look to your cloaths.’ 88 They hangd their heads, and droped down, A word they could not speak: Robin said, Because I fell a-swoon, I think you’ll do the like. 89 Tell on the matter, less and more, And tell me what and how Ye have done with the bold beggar I sent you for right now. 90 And then they told him to an end, As I have said before, How that the beggar did them blind, What misters process more. 91 And how he lin’d their shoulders broad With his great trenchen tree, And how in the thick wood he fled, Eer they a stime could see. 92 And how they scarcely could win home, Their bones were beft so sore: Good Robin cry’d, Fy! out, for shame! We’re sham’d for evermore.