They all hyena-like will weep,
When that they would deceive:
Deceit in them doth lurk and sleep,
Which makes me thus to grieve.

Young man's delight, farewell;
Wine, women, game, pleasure, adieu:
Content with me shall dwell;
I'll nothing trust but what is true.
Though she were false, for her I'll pray;
Her falsehood made me blest:
I will renew from this good day
My life by sin opprest.

Moved with this song and other complaints of his, she at last did fancy
him, so that the weaver did not like that Robin should be so saucy with his
wife, and therefore gave him warning to be gone, for he would keep him no
longer. This grieved this loving couple to part one from the other, which
made them to make use of the time that they had. The weaver one day coming
in, found them a-kissing: at this he said [nothing] but vowed in himself to
be revenged of his man that night following. Night being come, the weaver
went to Robin's bed, and took him out of it (as he then thought) and ran
apace to the river side to hurl Robin in; but the weaver was deceived, for
Robin, instead of himself, had laid in his bed a sack full of yarn: it was
that that the weaver carried to drown. The weaver standing by the river
side said:--Now will I cool your hot blood, Master Robert, and if you
cannot swim the better you shall sink and drown, With that he hurled the
sack in, thinking that it had been Robin Good-fellow. Robin, standing
behind him, said--