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,