Gramarsey, seyde the weyffe,
Sir, god eylde het the.
The screffes hart was never so leythe,
The feyr forest to se.
And when he cam ynto the foreyst,
Yonder the leffes grene,
Berdys ther sange on bowhes prest,
Het was gret goy to sene.
Her het ys merey to be,[246] seyde Roben,
For a man that had hawt to spende :