A styffe and eke a stronge,
I was commytted [211] the best archere,
That was in mery Englonde.
Alas ! then sayd good Robyn,
Alas and well a woo !
Yf I dwele lenger with the kynge,
Sorowe wyll me sloo. {78}
Forth than went Robyn Hode,
Tyll he came to our kynge :
“My lorde the kynge of Englonde,