As thei went talkyng be the way,
The munke and Litulle Johne,
Johne toke the munkes horse be the hede185
Ful sone and anone.
Johne toke the munkes horse be the hed,
For sothe as I yow say,
So did Muche the litulle page,
For he shulde not stirre away.190
Be the golett of the hode
Johne pulled the munke downe;
Johne was nothynge of hym agast,
He lete hym falle on his crowne.
Litulle Johne was [sore] agrevyd,195
And drew out his swerde in hye;
The munke saw he shulde be ded,
Lowd mercy can he crye.
"He was my maister," seid Litulle Johne,
"That thou hase browzt in bale;200
Shalle thou neuer cum at oure kynge
For to telle hym tale."
John smote of the munkes hed,
No longer wolde he dwelle;
So did Moche the litulle page,205
For ferd lest he wold tell.
Ther thei beryed hem both
In nouther mosse nor lynge,
And Litulle Johne and Muche infere
Bare the letturs to oure kyng.210
* * * * * *
He kneled down vpon his kne,
"God zow saue, my lege lorde,
"Jesus yow saue and se.
"God yow saue, my lege kyng,"
To speke Johne was fulle bolde;215
He gaf hym the letturs in his hond,
The kyng did hit unfold.
The kyng red the letturs anon,
And seid, "so mot I the,
Ther was neuer zoman in mery Inglond220
I longut so sore to see.