‘For these are his majesty’s deer;
Before you shall shoot, the thing I’ll dispute,
For I am head-forester here.’
5
‘These thirteen long summers,’ quoth Robin, ‘I’m sure,
My arrows I here have let fly,
Where freely I range; methinks it is strange,
You should have more power than I.
6
‘This forest,’ quoth Robin, ‘I think is my own,