A jolly butchèr, with a bonny fine mare,

With his flesh to the market did hye. {176}

Good morrow, good fellow, said jolly Robìn,

What food hast [thou], tell unto me ?

Thy trade to me tell, and where thou dost dwell,

For I like well thy company.

The butcher he answer’d jolly Robìn,

No matter where I dwell ;

For a butcher I am, and to Nottingham

I am going, my flesh to sell.