Thryes thorow at them he ran,
Ther for sothe as I yow say,
And woundyt many a modur sone,
And xii he slew that day. {375}
His sworde vpon the schireff hed
Sertanly he brake in too ;
The smyth that the made, seid Robyn,
I pray god [354] wyrke hym woo.
For now am I weppynlesse, seid Robyne,
Alasse agayn my wylle ;