So perilous outlaws as they were,
Walked not by east nor west.
When the king this letter had read,
In his heart he sighed sore;
"Take up the table anon," he bad,
"For I may eat no more."
The king called his best archers,
To the butts with him to go;
"I will see these fellows shoot," he said,
"In the north have wrought this woe."