But as they looked in Barnèsdale,
By the highè-way,
Then were they ware of a Black Monk[828],
Upon a good palfrèy.

CCXIV

Then bespake him Little John,
To Muchè gan he say:
‘I dare well lay my life to wed[829],
That Monk hath brought our pay.

CCXV

‘Make glad cheer,’ said Little John,
‘And dress your bows of yew,
And look your hearts be seker and sad[830],
Your strings trusty and true.

CCXVI

‘The Monk hath two and fifty men,
And seven somers[831] strong;
There rideth no bishop in this land
So royally along.

CCXVII

‘Bretheren,’ said Little John,
‘Here are no more but three;
But[832] we bring them to dinnèr,
Our master we dare not see.

CCXVIII