He toke leffe of the screffys wyffe,
And thankyd her of all thyng:240
"Dam, for mey loffe, and ye well thys wer,
Y geffe yow her a golde ryng."
"Gramarsey," seyde the weyffe,
"Sir, god eylde het the;"
The screffes hart was never so leythe,245
The feyr forest to se.
And when he cam ynto the foreyst,
Yonder the leffes grene,
Berdys ther sange on bowhes prest,
Het was gret [joy] to sene.250
"Her het ys merey to [be]," seyde Roben,
"For a man that had hawt to spende;
Be mey horne we schall awet
Yeff Roben Hode [be] ner hande."
[Roben set hes horne to hes mowthe,]255
And blow a blast that was foll god,
That herde hes men that ther stode,
[Fer] downe yn the wodde;
"I her mey master" seyde Leytell John;
They ran as thay wer wode.260
Whan thay to thar master cam,
Leytell John wold not spar;
"Master, how haffe yow far yn Notynggam?
How haffe yow solde yowr war?"
"Ye, be mey trowthe, [Leytyll] John,265
Loke thow take no car;
Y haffe browt the screffe of Notynggam,
For all howr chaffar."
"He ys foll wellcom," seyde Lytyll John,
"Thes tydyng ys foll godde;270
The screffe had lever nar a hundred ponde
[He had never sene Roben Hode.]
"[Had I west] that beforen,
At Notynggam when we wer,
Thow scholde not com yn feyr forest275
Of all thes thowsande eyr."
"That wot y well," seyde Roben,
"Y thanke god that ye be her;
Therfor schall ye leffe yowr horse with hos,
And all your hother ger."280