"Stande up, sweete maide, I plight my troth;
Fall thou not on thy knee;
Ile force thy cruell brothers both75
To bend the knee to thee.
"Stand thou behinde this sturdie oke,
I soone will quell their pride;
Thoult see my sword with furie smoke,
And in their hearts blood died."80
He set his backe against a tree,
His foote against a stone;
The first blow that he gave so free
Cleft one man to the bone.
The tanners bold they fought right well,85
And it was one to two;
But Robin did them both refell,
All in the damsells viewe.
The red blood ran from Robins brow,
All downe unto his knee;90
"O holde your handes, my brethren now,
I will goe backe with yee."
"Stand backe, stand backe, my pretty maide,
Stand backe and let me fight;
By sweete St. James be no afraide95
But I will it requite."
Then Robin did his sword uplift,
And let it fall againe;
The oldest brothers head it cleft,
Right through unto his braine.100
"O hold thy hand, bolde forrester,
Or ill may thee betide;
Slay not my youngest brother here,
He is my fathers pride."
"Away, for I would scorne to owe,105
My life to the[e], false maide!"
The youngest cried, and aim'd a blow
That lit on Robins head.
Then Robin leand against the tree,
His life nie gone did seeme;110
His eyes did swim, he could not see
The maiden start betweene.