187.
‘I make myn avowe to God,’ sayde the shyref,
‘That syght wolde I fayne se.’
‘Buske you thyderwarde, my dere mayster,
Anone, and wende with me.’
188.
The sherif rode, and Litell Johnn
Of fote he was full smerte,
And whane they came before Robyn,
‘Lo, sir, here is the mayster-herte.’