So down they went to yonder town As fast as foot could fall, And many a grievous bitter tear From the virgins’ eyes did fall. VI ‘O peace, Mother, O peace, Mother, Your weeping doth me grieve: I must suffer this,’ He said, ‘For Adam and for Eve VII ‘O Mother, take you John Evangelist All for to be your son, And he will comfort you sometimes, Mother, as I have done.’ VIII ‘O come, thou John Evangelist, Thou’rt welcome unto me; But more welcome my own dear Son, Whom I nursed on my knee.’ IX Then He laid his head on His right shoulder. Seeing death it struck Him nigh-- ‘The Holy Ghost be with your soul, I die, Mother dear, I die.’ X O the rose, the gentle rose, And the fennel that grows so green! God give us grace in every place To pray for our king and queen. XI Furthermore for our enemies all Our prayers they should be strong: Amen, good Lord; your charity Is the ending of my song. PART II BOOK V _112. Robyn and Gandelyn_ I I herde a carpyng[636] of a clerk, Al at yone wodes ende, Of gode Robyn and Gandeleyn; Was ther non other thynge. _Robynn lyth in grene wode bowndyn._ II Stronge thevys wern tho chylderin none, But bowmen gode and hende[637]; He[638] wentyn to wode to getyn hem fleych, If God wold it hem sende. III Al day wentyn tho chylderin two, And fleych fowndyn he non, Til it were ageyn evyn[639]; The chylderin wold gon hom. IV Half an honderid of fat falyf der He comyn ayon[640], And alle he wern fayr and fat i-now, But markyd was ther non: ‘Be dere God,’ seyde gode Robyn, ‘Hereof we shul have on[641].’ V Robyn bent his joly bowe, Ther in he set a flo[642]; The fattest der of alle The herte he clef a to[643]. VI He hadde not the der i-flawe[644], Ne half out of the hyde, There cam a schrewde[645] arwe out of the west, That felde Robertes pryde. VII Gandeleyn lokyd hym est and west, Be every syde: ‘Hoo hat myn mayster slayin? Ho hat don this dede? Shal I never out of grene wode go Til I se his sydis blede.’ VIII Gandeleyn lokyd hym est and west, And sowt under the sunne; He saw a lytil boy, He clepyn[646] Wrennok of Donne. IX A good bowe in his hond, A brod arwe ther-ine, And fowre and twenti goode arwys, Trusyd[647] in a thrumme[648]: ‘Be war the, war the, Gandeleyn, Her-of thu shalt han summe! X ‘Be war the, war the, Gandeleyn, Her of thu gyst[649] plenté!’-- ‘Ever on for an other,’ seyde Gandeleyn; ‘Mysaunter[650] have he shal fle. XI ‘Qwer-at shal our marke be?’ Seyde Gandeleyn.-- ‘Everyche at otheris herte,’ Seyde Wrennok ageyn.