Or I here another nyght lye, sayd the sheryfe,
Robyn, nowe I praye the,
Smyte of my hede rather to-morne,
And I forgyve it the. {37}
Lete me go, then sayd the sheryf,
For saynt Charytè,
And I wyll be thy best frende
That ever yet had the.
Thou shalte swere me an othe, sayd Robyn,
On my bryght bronde,