"Mayster," then sayd Lytell Johan,
"If ever thou lovest me,90
And for that ylke lordes love,
That dyed upon a tre,
"And for the medes of my servyce,
That I have served the,
Lete never the proude sheryf95
Alyve now fynde me.
"But take out thy browne swerde,
And smyte all of my hede,
And gyve me woundes dede and wyde,
[No lyfe on me be lefte]."100
"I wolde not that," sayd Robyn,
"Johan, that thou were slawe,
For all the golde in mery Englond,
Though it lay now on a rawe."
"God forbede," sayd lytell Much,105
"That dyed on a tre,
That thou sholdest, Lytell Johan,
Parte our company."
Up he toke him on his backe,
And bare hym well a myle;110
Many a tyme he layd hym downe,
And shot another whyle.
Then was there a fayre castèll,
A lytell within the wode,
Double-dyched it was about,115
And walled, by the rode.
And there dwelled that gentyll knyght,
Syr Richard at the Lee,
That Robyn had lent his good,
Under the grene wode tree.120
In he toke good Robyn,
And all his company;
"Welcome be thou, Robyn Hode,
Welcome arte thou me;
"And moche [I] thanke the of thy comfort,125
And of thy curteysye,
And of thy grete kyndenesse,
Under the grene wode tre.