211 Forth then stert Lytel Johan, Half in tray and tene, And gyrde hym with a full good swerde, Under a mantel of grene. 212 They went vp to the Sayles, These yemen all thre; They loked est, they loked west, They myght no man se. 213 But as [t]he[y] loked in Bernysdale, By the hyë waye, Than were they ware of two blacke monkes, Eche on a good palferay. 214 Then bespake Lytell Johan, To Much he gan say, I dare lay my lyfe to wedde, That [these] monkes haue brought our pay. 215 ‘Make glad chere,’ sayd Lytell Johan, ‘And frese your bowes of ewe, And loke your hertës be seker and sad, Your stryngës trusty and trewe. 216 ‘The monke hath two and fifty [men,] And seuen somers full stronge; There rydeth no bysshop in this londe So ryally, I vnderstond. 217 ‘Brethern,’ sayd Lytell Johan, ‘Here are no more but we thre; But we bryngë them to dyner, Our mayster dare we not se. 218 ‘Bende your bowes,’ sayd Lytell Johan, ‘Make all yon prese to stonde; The formost monke, his lyfe and his deth Is closed in my honde. 219 ‘Abyde, chorle monke,’ sayd Lytell Johan, ‘No ferther that thou gone; Yf thou doost, by dere worthy God, Thy deth is in my honde. 220 ‘And euyll thryfte on thy hede,’ sayd Lytell Johan, ‘Ryght vnder thy hattës bonde; For thou hast made our mayster wroth, He is fastynge so longe.’ 221 ‘Who is your mayster?’ sayd the monke; Lytell Johan sayd, Robyn Hode; ‘He is a stronge thefe,’ sayd the monke, ‘Of hym herd I neuer good.’ 222 ‘Thou lyest,’ than sayd Lytell Joha_n_, ‘And that shall rewë the; He is a yeman of the forest, To dyne he hath bodë the.’ 223 Much was redy with a bolte, Redly and anone, He set the monke to-fore the brest, To the grounde that he can gone. 224 Of two and fyfty wyght yonge yemen There abode not one, Saf a lytell page and a grome, To lede the somers with Lytel Johan. 225 They brought the monke to the lodgë-dore, Whether he were loth or lefe, For to speke with Robyn Hode, Maugre in theyr tethe. 226 Robyn dyde adowne his hode, The monke whan that he se; The monke was not so curtëyse, His hode then let he be. 227 ‘He is a chorle, mayster, by dere worthy God,’ Than sayd Lytell Johan: ‘Thereof no force,’ sayd Robyn, ‘For curteysy can he none. 228 ‘How many men,’ sayd Robyn, ‘Had this monke, Johan?’ ‘Fyfty and two whan that we met, But many of them be gone.’ 229 ‘Let blowe a horne,’ sayd Robyn, ‘That felaushyp may vs knowe;’ Seuen score of wyght yemen Came pryckynge on a rowe. 230 And euerych of them a good mantell Of scarlet and of raye; All they came to good Robyn, To wyte what he wolde say. 231 They made the monke to wasshe and wype, And syt at his denere, Robyn Hode and Lytell Joha_n_ They serued him both in-fere.