I had a sone, for soth, Robyn,
That sholde have ben my eyre,
When he was twenty wynter olde,
In felde wolde juste full feyre ;
He slewe a knyght of Lancastshyre,[130]
And a squyre bolde ;
For to save hym in his ryght
My goodes beth sette and solde ;
My londes beth set to wedde, Robyn,
Untyll a certayne daye,