“Buske you thyderwarde, my dere maystèr,
Anone, and wende with me.”
The sheryfe rode, and Lytell Johan
Of fote he was full smarte,
And whan they came afore Robyn :
“Lo, here is the mayster harte !” {35}
Styll stode the proude sheryf,
A sory man was he :
“Wo worthe the,[158] Raynolde Grenelefe !
Thou hast now betrayed me.”