No pardon, no pardon, said the bishòp,

No pardon I thee owe ;

Therefore make haste, and come along with me,

For before the king you shall go.

Then Robin set his back against a tree,

And his foot against a thorn,

And from underneath his shepherds coat

He pull’d out a bugle-horn.

He put the little end to his mouth,

And a loud blast did he blow,