They made the monke to washe and wype,105
And syt at his denere,
Robyn Hode and Lytel Johan
They served [him bothe] in fere.
"Do gladly, monke," sayd Robyn.
"Gramercy, syr," said he.110
"Where is your abbay, whan ye are at home,
And who is your avowè?"
"Saynt Mary abbay," sayd the monke,
"Though I be symple here."
"In what offyce?" sayd Robyn:115
"Syr, the hye selerer."
"Ye be the more welcome," sayd Robyn,
"So ever mote I the:
Fyll of the best wyne," sayd Robyn,
"This monke shall drynke to me.120
"But I have grete mervayle," sayd Robyn,
"Of all this longe day;
I drede our lady be wroth with me,
She sent me not my pay."
"Have no doute, mayster," sayd Lytell Johan,
"Ye have no nede I saye;126
This monke it hath brought, I dare well swere,
For he is of her abbay."
"And she was a borowe," sayd Robyn,
"Betwene a knyght and me,130
Of a lytell money that I hym lent,
Under the grene wode tree.
"And yf thou hast that sylver ibroughte,
I pray the let me se;
And I shall helpe the eftsones,135
Yf thou have nede [of] me."
The monke swore a full grete othe,
With a sory chere,
"Of the borowehode thou spekest to me,
Herde I never ere."140
"I make myn avowe to god," sayd Robyn,
"Monke, thou art to blame;
For god is holde a ryghtwys man,
And so is his dame.