"
At these words a sound of laughing came from the bench, whereat the lean
Brother's wrath boiled over, like water into the fire, with great fuss
and noise. "Now, out upon thee, thou naughty fellow!" he cried. "Art
thou not ashamed to bring disgrace so upon our cloth? Bide thee here,
thou sot, with these porkers. Thou art no fit company for us."
"La, ye there now!" quoth Little John. "Thou hearest, landlord; thou
art not fit company for these holy men; go back to thine alehouse. Nay,
if these most holy brothers of mine do but give me the word, I'll beat
thy head with this stout staff till it is as soft as whipped eggs."
At these words a great shout of laughter went up from those on the
bench, and the landlord's face grew red as a cherry from smothering his
laugh in his stomach; but he kept his merriment down, for he wished not
to bring the ill-will of the brothers of Fountain Abbey upon him by
unseemly mirth. So the two brethren, as they could do nought else,
having mounted their nags, turned their noses toward Lincoln and rode
away.
"I cannot stay longer, sweet friends," quoth Little John, as he pushed
in betwixt the two cobs, "therefore I wish you good den.
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