He met a beggar on the way,
Who sturdily could gang;10
He had a pike-staff in his hand
That was baith stark and strang.
A clouted cloak about him was,
That held him frae the cold;
The thinnest bit of it, I guess,15
Was more then twenty fold.
His meal-pock hang about his neck,
Into a leathern fang,
Well fasten'd with a broad buckle,
That was baith stark and strang.20
He had three hats upon his head,
Together stickèd fast,
He car'd neither for wind nor weet,
In lands where'er he past.
Good Robin coost him in his way,25
To see what he might be,
If any beggar had monèy,
He thought some part had he.
"Tarry, tarry," good Robin says,
"Tarry, and speak with me;"30
He heard him as he heard him not,
And fast on his way can hie.
"It be's not so," says good Robin,
"Nay, thou must tarry still;"
"By my troth," said the bold beggar,35
"Of that I have no will.
"It is far to my lodging house,
And it is growing late;
If they have supt e'er I come in
I will look wondrous blate."40
"Now, by my truth," says good Robin,
"I see well by thy fare,
If thou chear well to thy supper,
Of mine thou takes no care;
"Who wants my dinner all this day,45
And wots not where to lie,
And should I to the tavern go,
I want money to buy.