‘This seven year, by dear-worthy God, Ne yede I so fast on foot, I make mine avow to God, thou proud Sheriff, It is not for thy good.’ CCCXLVII Robin bent a full good bow, An arrow he drew at will; He hit so the proud Sheriff, On the ground he lay full still. CCCXLVIII And or he might up arise, On his feet to stand, He smote off the Sheriff’s head, With his bright brand. CCCXLIX ‘Lie thou there, thou proud Sheriff; Evil mote thou thrive: There might no man to thee trust The while thou wert alive.’ CCCL His men drew out their brightè swords That were so sharp and keen, And laiden on the Sheriff’s men, And drave them down bidene[883]. CCCLI Robin started to the Knight, And cut in two his band, And took[884] him in his hand a bow, And bade him by him stand. CCCLII ‘Leave thy horsè thee behind, And learnè for to ren[885]; Thou shalt with me to greenè-wood, Through mire, moss, and fen. CCCLIII ‘Thou shalt with me to greenè-wood, Without any leasing, Till that I have got us grace Of Edward, our comely King.’ _The Seventh Fytte_ How the King rode out to punish Robin Hood, and how he was entertained CCCLIV The King came to Nottingham, With knights in great array, For to take that gentle Knight And Robin, if he may. CCCLV He askèd men of that country After Robin Hood, And eke after that gentle Knight That was so bold and good. CCCLVI When they had him told the case Our King understood their tale, And he seizèd in his hand The Knightès landès all. CCCLVII All the pass[886] of Lancashire He went both far and near, Till he came to Plompton Park, He fail’d many of his deer. CCCLVIII There[887] our King was wont to see Herdès many one, He could unneth[888] find one deer That bare any good horn. CCCLIX The King was wonder wroth withall, And swore by the Trinity, ‘I would I haddè Robin Hood, With eyes I might him see. CCCLX ‘And he that would smite off the Knightès head, And bring it unto me He shall have the Knightès lands, Sir Richard at the Lee. CCCLXI ‘I give it him with my chartèr, And seal it with my hand, To have and hold for evermore In all merry England.’ CCCLXII Then bespake a fair old Knight That was true in his fay[889]: ‘Ah! my liegè lord the King, One word I shall you say. CCCLXIII ‘There is no man in this country May have the Knightès lands, While Robin Hood may ride or go, And bear a bow in his hands. CCCLXIV ‘That he ne shall not lose his head, The best ball in his hood; Give it no man, my lord the King, That ye will[890] any good.’ CCCLXV