I'm a Norman

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'He shall not go scot-free,' the others reply'd;
So strait they were seizing him there,

To duck him likewise; but Robin Hood cries,
He is a stout fellow, forbear.

There's no one shall wrong thee, friend, be not afraid;
These bowmen upon me do wait;

There's threescore and nine; if thou wilt be mine,
Thou shalt have my livery strait.

'O here is my hand,' the stranger reply'd,
'I'll serve you with all my whole heart;

My name is John Little, a man of good mettle;
Nere doubt me, for I'll play my part.'

They presently fetchd in a brace of fat does,
With humming strong liquor likewise;

They lovd what was good; so, in the green wood,
This giant sweet babe they baptize.

He was, I must tell you, but seven foot high,
And, may be, two yards in the waste;

A pretty sweet lad; much feasting they had;
Bold Robin the christning grac'd.

'This infant was called John Little,' quoth he,
'Which name shall be now changed anon;

The words we'll transpose, so where-ever he goes,
His name shall be calld Little John.'

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