CCCCXIX
‘Robin,’ said our King,
‘Now pray I thee,
To sell me some of that cloth,
To me and my meinèe.’
CCCCXX
‘Yes, ’fore God,’ then said Robin,
‘Or else I were a fool;
Another day ye will me clothe,
I trow, against the Yule.’
CCCCXXI
The King cast off his coat then,
A green garment he did on,
And every knight had so, i-wis,
They clothèd them full soon.
CCCCXXII
When they were clothed in Lincoln green,
They cast away their gray.
‘Now we shall to Nottingham,’
All thus our King gan say.
CCCCXXIII
Their bows bent and forth they went,
Shooting all in fere,
Toward the town of Nottingham,
Outlaws as they were.