“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.”