Than worde came to oure kynge,
How Robyn Hode was gone,
And how the scheref of Notyngham
Durst neuer loke hyme vpone.
Then bespake oure cumly kynge,
In an angur hye,
"Litulle Johne hase begyled the schereff,
In faith so hase he me.
"Litulle Johne has begyled vs bothe,
And that fulle wel I se,
Or ellis the schereff of Notyngham
Hye hongut shuld he be.
"I made hem zemen of the crowne,
And gaf hem fee with my hond,
I gaf hem grithe," seid oure kyng,
"Thorowout alle mery Inglond.
"I gaf hem grithe," then seide oure kyng,
"I say, so mot I the,
For sothe soche a zeman as he is on
In alle Ingland ar not thre.
"He is trew to his maister," seide oure kynge,
"I say, be swete seynt Johne;
He louys bettur Robyn Hode,
Then he dose vs ychone.
"Robyne Hode is euer bond to him,
Bothe in strete and stalle;
Speke no more of this matter," seid oure kynge,
"But John has begyled vs alle."
Thus endys the talkyng of the munke
And Robyne Hode i-wysse;
God, that is euer a crowned kyng,
Bryng vs alle to his blisse.
Ballad: Robin Hood And The Potter
In schomer, when the leves spryng,
The bloschems on every bowe,
So merey doyt the berdys syng
Yn wodys merey now.
Herkens, god yemen,
Comley, corteysse, and god,
On of the best that yever bar bou,
Hes name was Roben Hode.
Roben Hood was the yemans name,
That was boyt corteys and fre;
For the loffe of owr ladey,
All wemen werschep he.
Bot as the god yemen stod on a day,
Among hes mery maney,
He was war of a prowd potter,
Cam dryfyng owyr the ley.
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