That ever yet founde I me.
By dere worthy god, sayd Robyn,
To seche all Englond thorowe,
Yet founde I never to my pay
A moche better borowe.
Fyll of the best wyne, do hym drynke, sayd Robyn ;
And grete well thy lady hende,
And yf she have nede of [169] Robyn Hode,
A frende she shall hym fynde ;
And yf she nedeth ony more sylvèr,