O what is the matter? quoth Will. Stutely,
Good master, you are wet to the skin:
No matter, quoth he, the lad which you see,
In fighting hath tumbled me in.
He shall not go scot-free, the others replied;
So straight they were seizing him there,
To duck him likewise: but Robin Hood cries,
He is a stout fellow, forbear.
There's no one shall wrong thee, friend, be not afraid;
These bowmen upon me do wait:
There's threescore and nine; if thou will be mine,
Thou shalt have my livery straight,
And other accoutrements fit for a man:
Speak up, jolly blade, never fear;
I'll teach you also the use of the bow,
To shoot at the fat fallow deer.
O here is my hand, the stranger replied,
I'll serve you with all my whole heart:
My name is John Little, a man of good mettle;
Ne'er doubt me, for I'll play my part.
His name shall be alter'd, quoth Will. Stutely,
And I will his godfather be;
Prepare then a feast, and none of the least,
For we will be merry, quoth he.
They presently fetch'd him a brace of fat does,
With humming strong liquor likewise:
They lov'd what was good; so in the green wood
This pretty sweet babe they baptiz'd.
He was, I must tell you, but seven feet high,
And may be an ell in the waist;
A sweet pretty lad; much feasting they had,
Bold Robin the christening grac'd,
With all his bowmen, which stood in a ring,
And were of the Nottingham breed.
Brave Stutely came then with seven yeomen,
And did in this manner proceed:
This infant was called John Little, quoth he,
Which name shall be changed anon:
The words we'll transpose; so wherever he goes,
His name shall be call'd Little John.