‘Buske[933] yee, bowne[934] yee, my merry men all,
And John shall goe with mee,
For I’le goe seeke yond wight yemen,
In grenewood where they bee.’
VII
They cast on them their gownes of grene,
[And tooke theyr bowes each one;
And all away to the grene forrèst]
A shooting forth are gone;
VIII
Until they came to the merry grenewood,
Where they had gladdest bee,
There were they ware of a wight yemàn,
His body lean’d to a tree.
IX
A sword and a dagger he wore by his side,
Of manye a man the bane;
And he was clad in his capull-hyde[935]
Topp and tayll and mayne.
X
‘Stand you still, Master,’ quoth Little John,
‘Under this trusty tree,
And I will go to yond wight yeoman
To know his meaning trulye.’