style="font-size:15px;"> Thou art the head and chiefOf chivalry. Come, noble knight,
And give her quick relief.'
"But Lancelot he turned aside
And looked upon the ground,
For it did sting his haughty pride
To hear them laugh around.
" `Come thou, Sir Tristram,' quoth the King.
Quoth he, `It cannot be,
For ne'er can I my stomach bring
To do it willingly.'
" `Wilt thou, Sir Kay, thou scornful wight?'
Quoth Kay, `Nay, by my troth!
What noble dame would kiss a knight
That kissed so foul a mouth_?'
" `_Wilt thou, Gawaine?' `I cannot, King.'
`Sir Geraint?' `Nay, not I;
My kisses no relief could bring,
For sooner would I die.'
"Then up and spake the youngest man
Of all about the board,
'Now such relief as Christian can
I'll give to her, my lord.'
"It was Sir Keith, a youthful knight,
Yet strong of limb and bold,
With beard upon his chin as light
As finest threads of gold.
"Quoth Kay, `He hath no mistress yet
That he may call his own,
But here is one that's quick to get,
As she herself has shown.'
"He kissed her once, he kissed her twice,
He kissed her three times o'er,
A wondrous change came in a trice,
And she was foul no more.
"Her cheeks grew red as any rose,
Her brow as white as lawn,
Her bosom like the winter snows,
Her eyes like those of fawn.
"Her breath grew sweet as summer breeze
That blows the meadows o'er;
Her voice grew soft as rustling trees,
And cracked and harsh no more.
"Her hair grew glittering, like the gold,
Her hands as white as milk;
Her filthy rags, so foul and old,
Were changed to robes of silk.
"In great amaze the knights did stare.
Quoth Kay, `I make my vow
If it will please thee, lady fair,
I'll gladly kiss thee now_.'
"_But young Sir Keith kneeled on one knee
And kissed her robes so fair.
`O let me be thy slave,' said he,
`For none to thee compare.'
"She bent her down, she kissed his brow,
She kissed his lips and eyes.
Quoth she, `Thou art my master now,
My lord, my love, arise!
" `And all the wealth that is mine own,
My lands, I give to thee,
For never knight hath lady shown
Such noble courtesy.
" `Bewitched was I, in bitter pain,
But thou hast set me free,
So now I am myself again,
I give myself to thee_.' "
"Yea, truly," quoth Robin Hood, when the Tanner had made an end of singing, "it is as I remember it, a fair ditty, and a ballad with a pleasing tune of a song."
"It hath oftentimes seemed to me," said Will Scarlet, "that it hath a certain motive in it, e'en such as this: That a duty which seemeth to us sometimes ugly and harsh, when we do kiss it fairly upon the mouth, so to speak, is no such foul thing after all."
"Methinks thou art right," quoth Robin, "and, contrariwise, that when we kiss a pleasure that appeareth gay it turneth foul to us; is it not so, Little John? Truly such a thing hath brought thee sore thumps this day. Nay, man, never look down in the mouth. Clear thy pipes and sing us a ditty."
"Nay," said Little John, "I have none as fair as that merry Arthur has trolled. They are all poor things that I know. Moreover, my voice is not in tune today, and I would not spoil even a tolerable song by ill singing."
Upon this all pressed Little John to sing, so that when he had denied them a proper length of time, such as is seemly in one that is asked to sing, he presently yielded. Quoth he, `Well, an ye will ha' it so, I will give you what I can. Like to fair Will, I have no title to my ditty, but thus it runs:
"_O Lady mine, the spring is here,
With a hey nonny nonny;
The sweet love season of the year,
With a ninny ninny nonny;
Now lad and lass
Lie in the grass
That groweth green
With flowers between.
The buck doth rest
The leaves do start,
The cock doth crow,
The breeze doth blow,
And all things laugh in_--"
"Who may yon fellow be coming along the road?" said Robin, breaking into the song.
"I know not," quoth Little John in a surly voice. "But this I do know, that it is an ill thing to do to check the flow of a good song."
