‘The dame prior is my aunt’s daughter,
And nigh unto my kin;
I know she wo’ld me no harm this day,
For all the world to win.’
V
‘That I rede[1020] not,’ said Little John,
‘Master, by th’assent of me,
Without half a hundred of your best bowmen
You take to go with yee.’—
VI
‘An thou be afear’d, thou Little John,
At home I rede thee be.’—
‘An you be wroth, my deare mastèr
You shall never hear more of me.’
VII
Now Robin is gone to merry Kirkleys
And knockèd upon the pin:
Up then rose Dame Priorèss
And let good Robin in.
VIII
Then Robin gave to Dame Priorèss
Twenty pound in gold,
And bade her spend while that did last,
She sho’ld have more when she wo’ld.