One worde I shall you say.
363
There is no man in this countrë
May haue the knyghtës londes,
Whyle Robyn Hode may ryde or gone,
And bere a bowe in his hondes,
364
That he ne shall lese his hede,
That is the best ball in his hode:
Giue it no man, my lorde the kynge,