‘Take thy bow in hande,’ said Robin,
‘Let Much wend with thee,
And so shall William Scathèlock,
And no man abide with me.
CCIX
‘And walk ye up unto the Sayles,
And so to Watling Street,
And wait after some uncouth guest,
Upchance ye may them meet.
CCX
‘Whether he be a messenger,
Or a man that mirthès can[826],
Of my good he shall have some,
If he be a poorè man.’
CCXI
Forth then started Little John,
Half in tray and teen[827],
And girt him with a full good sword,
Under a mantle of green.
CCXII
They wenten up unto the Sayles,
Those yeomen allè three;
They lookèd east, they lookèd west,
They mightè no man see.