‘Or I be here another nyght,’ sayde the sherif,
‘Robyn, nowe pray I the,
Smyte of mijn hede rather to-morowe,
And I forgyue it the.
201
‘Lat me go,’ than sayde the sherif,
‘For sayntë charitë,
And I woll be the best[ë] frende
That euer yet had ye.’
202