The other return’d them as fast ;
At every stroke their jackets did smoke ;
Three hours the combat did last
At length in a rage the forester grew,
And cudgel’d bold Robin so sore,
That he could not stand, so shaking his hand,
He cry’d, Let us freely give o’er. {288}
Thou art a brave fellow, I needs must confess
I never knew any so good ;
Thou art fitting to be a yeoman for me,