CCCCV
‘If it be so,’ said Robin Hood,
‘That may no better be,
Sir Abbot, I deliver thee mine arrow,
I pray thee, serve thou me.’
CCCCVI
‘It falls[909] not for mine order,’ said our King,
‘Robin, by thy leave,
For to smite no good yeomàn,
For doubt I should him grieve.’
CCCCVII
‘Smite on boldly,’ said Robin,
‘I give thee largè leave.’
Anon our King with that same word
He folded up his sleeve,
CCCCVIII
And such a buffet he gave Robin,
To ground he yede full near:
‘I make mine avow to God,’ said Robin,
‘Thou art a stalwart frere[910].
CCCCIX
‘There is pith in thine arm,’ said Robin,
‘I trow thou canst well shoot.’
Thus our King and Robin Hood
Together then they met.