"There's no one shall wrong thee, friend; be not afraid;
These bowmen upon me do wait;
There's threescore and nine; if thou wilt be mine,
Thou shalt have my livery strait,
"And other accoutrements fitting also:
Speak up, jolly blade, never fear.
I'll teach you also the use of the bow,
To shoot at the fat fallow deer."
"O, here is my hand," the stranger reply'd.
"I'll serve you with all my whole heart;
My name is John Little, a man of good mettle;
Ne'er doubt it, for I'll play my part."
"His name shall be alter'd," quoth William Stutely,
"And I will his godfather be;
Prepare then a feast, and none of the least,
For we will be merry," quoth he.
They presently fetch'd him a brace of fat does,
With humming strong liquor likewise;
They lov'd what was good; so, in the green-wood
This pretty sweet babe they baptize.
He was, I must tell you, but seven foot high,
And, may be, an ell in the waist;
A sweet pretty lad; much feasting they had;
Bold Robin the christ'ning grac'd,
With all his bowmen, who stood in a ring,
And were of the Nottingham breed;
Brave Stutely came then, with seven yeomen,
And did in this manner proceed:
"This infant was called John Little," quoth he;
"His name shall be changed anon:
The words we'll transpose; so wherever he goes,
His name shall be call'd Little John."
They all with a shout made the elements ring;
So soon as the office was o'er,
To feasting they went, with true merriment
And tippled strong liquor gillore.
[Footnote: Gillore is an old form of galore.]
Then Robin he took the pretty sweet babe,
And cloth'd him from top to toe,
In garments of green, most gay to be seen,
And gave him a curious long bow.