CCCLXX
‘That ye shall meet with good Robin,
Alive if that he be;
Ere ye come to Nottingham
With eyes ye shall him see.’
CCCLXXI
Full hastily our King was dight,
So were his knightès five.
Each of them in monkès weed,
And hasted thither blive.
CCCLXXII
Our King was great above his cowl,
A broad hat on his crown,
Right as he were abbot-like,
They rode into the town.
CCCLXXIII
Stiff boots our King had on,
Forsooth as I you say;
Singing he rode to the greenè-wood,
The convent[895] was clothed in gray.
CCCLXXIV
His mail-horse[896] and his great somèrs
Followed our King behind,
Till they came to greenè-wood
A mile under the lind[897].