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,