"Trust me for that!" quoth Little John—
"Trust me for that!" quoth he, with a laugh;
"There never was man of woman born,
That asked twice for the taste of my quarter-
staff!"
Then Little John, he strutted on,
Till he came to an open bound,
And he was aware of a Red Friar,
Was sitting upon the ground.
His shoulders they were broad and strong,
And large was he of limb;
Few yeomen in the north countrie
Would care to mell with him.
He heard the rustling of the boughs,
As Little John drew near;
But never a single word he spoke,
Of welcome or of cheer:
Less stir he made than a pedlar would
For a small gnat in his ear!
I like not his looks! thought Little John,
Nor his staff of the oaken tree.
Now may our Lady be my help,
Else beaten I well may be!
"What dost thou here, thou strong Friar,
In Sherwood's merry round,
Without the leave of Little John,
To range with hawk and hound?"
"Small thought have I," quoth the Red Friar,
"Of any leave, I trow;
That Little John is an outlawed thief,
And so, I ween, art thou!
"Know, I am Prior of Copmanshurst,
And Bishop of London town,
And I bring a rope from our father the Pope,
To put the outlaws down."
Then out spoke Little John in wrath,
"I tell thee, burly frere,
The Pope may do as he likes at home,
But he sends no Bishops here!
"Up, and away, Red Friar!" he said,
"Up, and away, right speedilie;
An it were not for that cowl of thine,
Avenged on thy body I would be!"