They wente unto the Sayles,
These yemen all thre,
They loked est, they loked west,
They myght no man see.80
But as they loked in Barnysdale,
By a derne strete,
Then came there a knyght rydynge,
Full sone they gan hym mete.
All dreri then was [his] semblaunte,85
And lytell was hys pryde,
Hys one fote in the sterope stode,
That other waved besyde.
Hys hode hangynge over hys eyen two,
He rode in symple aray;90
A soryer man than he was one
Rode never in somers-day.
Lytell Johan was curteyse,
And set hym on his kne:
"Welcome be ye, gentyll knyght,95
Welcome are you to me.
"Welcome be thou to grene wood,
Hende knyght and fre;
My mayster hath abyden you fastynge,
Syr, all these oures thre."100
"Who is your mayster?" sayd the knyght.
Johan sayde, "Robyn Hode."
"He is a good yeman," sayd the knyght,
"Of hym I have herde moch good.
"I graunte," he sayd, "with you to wende,105
My brethren, [all in-fere];
My purpose was to have deyned to day
At Blythe or Dankastere."
Forthe than went [this] gentyll knyght,
With a carefull chere;110
The teres out of his eyen ran,
And fell downe by his [lere].
They brought hym unto the lodge dore;
When Robyn gan hym se,
Full curteysly dyde of his hode,115
And set hym on his kne.