‘Have here thy gold, Sir Abbot,’ he said, ‘Which that thou lentest me; Hadst thou been courteous at my coming, I would have rewarded thee.’ CXXII The Abbot sat still, and ate no more, For all his royal fare; He cast his head on his shouldèr, And fast began to stare. CXXIII ‘Take[786] me my gold again.’ he said, ‘Sir Justice, that I took thee.’-- ‘Not a penny,’ said the Justice, ‘By Him that died on tree.’-- CXXIV ‘Sir Abbot, and ye men of law, Now have I held my day; Now shall I have my land again, For aught that you can say.’ CXXV The Knight out started of the door, Away was all his care, And on he put his good clothing. The other he left there. CXXVI He went him forth full merry singing, As men have told in tale; His Lady met him at the gate, At home in Uttersdale. CXXVII ‘Welcome, my lord,’ said his Lady; ‘Sir, lost is all your good?’-- ‘Be merry, damè,’ said the Knight, ‘And pray for Robin Hood, CXXVIII ‘That ever his soulè be in bliss: He help me out of teen; Ne had not been[787] his kindèness, Beggars had we been. CXXIX ‘The Abbot and I accorded be, He is servèd of his pay; The goodè yeoman lent it me, As I came by the way.’ CXXX This Knight then dwellèd fair at home, The soothè for to say, Till he had got four hundred pound, All ready for to pay. CXXXI He purvey’d him an hundred bows, The stringès well y-dight, An hundred sheaf of arrows good, The heads burnish’d full bright; CXXXII And every arrow an ellè long, With peacock well y-dight[788], Y-notchèd all with white silvèr; It was a seemly sight. CXXXIII He purvey’d him an hundred men, Well harness’d in that stead, And himself in that samè suit, And clothed in white and red. CXXXIV He bare a lancegay[789] in his hand, And a man led his mail[790], And roden[791] with a lightè song Unto Barnèsdale. CXXXV As he went at a bridge there was a wrestling, And there tarrièd was he, And there was all the best yeomen, Of all the west countrỳ. CXXXVI A full fair game there was upset, A white bull up y-pight[792]; A great courser with saddle and bridle, With gold burnish’d full bright; CXXXVII A pair of gloves, a red gold ring, A pipe of wine, in good fay: What man beareth him best, i-wis, The prize shall bear away. CXXXVIII There was a yeoman in that place, And best worthy was he, And for he was far and frembd bestad[793], I-slain he should have be. CXXXIX The Knight had ruth of this yeoman. In place where that he stood, He said that yeoman should have no harm, For love of Robin Hood. CXL