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,