‘But well thee greeteth Edward our King, And sent to thee his seal, And biddeth thee come to Nottingham, Both to meat and meal.’ CCCLXXXV He took out the broadè targe[901], And soon he let him see; Robin could his courtesy, And set him on his knee. CCCLXXXVI ‘I love no man in all the world So well as I do my King; Welcome is my lordès seal; And, Monk, for thy tiding. CCCLXXXVII ‘Sir Abbot, for thy tidings, To-day thou shalt dine with me, For the lovè of my King, Under my trystell-tree.’ CCCLXXXVIII Forth he led our comely King Full fairè by the hand; Many a deer there was slain, They were full fast dightànd[902]. CCCLXXXIX Robin took a full great horn, And loudè he gan blow; Seven score of wight young men Came ready on a row. CCCXC All they kneelèd on their knee Full fair before Robin; The King said himself until, And swore by Saint Austìn, CCCXCI ‘Here is a wonder seemly sight; Me thinketh, by God’s pine[903], His men are more at his bidding Than my men be at mine.’ CCCXCII Full hastily was their dinner dight, And thereto gan they gon; They servèd our King with all their might, Both Robin and Little John. CCCXCIII Anon before our King was set The fattè venisoun, The good white bread, the good red wine, Thereto fine ale and brown. CCCXCIV ‘Make good cheer,’ said Robin Hood, ‘Abbot, for charity, And for this ilkè tiding, Sir, Blessed mote thou be. CCCXCV ‘Now shalt thou see what life we lead, Ere thou hennès[904] wend; Then thou mayst inform our King, When ye together lend[905].’ CCCXCVI Up they started all in haste, Their bows were smartly bent; Our King was never so aghast, He weened to have been shent[906]. CCCXCVII Two yards[907] there were up set, Thereto gan they gang; By fifty paces, our King said, The markès were too lang. CCCXCVIII On every side a rose garlànd, They shot under the line: ‘Who fails of the garland,’ said Robin, ‘His tackle he shall tine[908], CCCXCIX ‘And yield it unto his mastèr, Be it never so fine; For no man will I spare,’ he said, ‘So drink I ale or wine; CCCC ‘And bear a buffet on his head I-wis aright all bare:’ And all that fell to Robin’s lot He smote them wonder sair. CCCCI Twice Robin shot about, And ever he cleft the wand, And so did eke the good Gilbèrt With the white hand. CCCCII Little John and good Scathèlock, For nothing would they spare; When they fail’d of the garlànd Robin smote them sair. CCCCIII