Robin thought on Our Ladye deere,
And soone leapt up againe,
And strait he came with an aukward[951] stroke,
And he Sir Guy hath slayne.
XLII
He took Sir Guy’s head by the hayre,
And stickèd itt on his bowes end:
‘Thou hast been traytor all thy liffe,
Which thing must have an ende.’
XLIII
Robin pulled forth an Irish kniffe,
And nicked Sir Guy in the face,
That he was never on woman born,
Cold tell whose head it was.
XLIV
Saies, ‘Lye there, lye there, good Sir Guy,
And with me be not wrothe;
If thou have had the worse strokes at my hand,
Thou shalt have the better clothe.’
XLV
Robin did off his gowne of greene,
And on Sir Guy did it throwe,
And hee put on that capull-hyde[952],
That clad him topp to toe.