That I will do, said Robin Hood,
Or else I were to blame;
Three whutes in a friar's fist
Would make me glad and fain.
The friar he set his fist to his mouth,
And he whuted him whutes three;
Half an hundred good ban dogs
Came running over the lea.
Here is for every man a dog,
And I myself for thee:
Nay, by my faith, said Robin Hood,
Friar, that may not be.
Two dogs at once to Robin did go,
The one behind and the other before;
Robin Hood's mantle of Lincoln green
Off from his back they tore.
And whether his men shot east or west,
Or they shot north or south,
The curtal dogs, so taught they were,
They caught the arrows in their mouth.
Take up thy dogs, said Little John,
Friar, at my bidding thee;
Whose man art thou, said the curtal friar,
That comes here to prate to me?
I am Little John, Robin Hood's man,
Friar, I will not lie;
If thou take not up thy dogs anon,
I'll take them up and thee.
Little John had a bow in his hand,
He shot with might and main;
Soon half a score of the friar's dogs
Lay dead upon the plain.
Hold thy hand, good fellow, said the curtal friar,
Thy master and I will agree;
And we will have new orders taken,
With all haste that may be.
If thou wilt forsake fair Fountain Dale,
And Fountain Abbey free,
Every Sunday throughout the year
A noble shall be thy fee.