Barefote and wolwarde I haue hyght

Thyder for to go.’

443

‘Yf it be so,’ than sayd our kynge,

‘It may no better be,

Seuen nyght I gyue the leue,

No lengre, to dwell fro me.’

444

‘Gramercy, lorde,’ then sayd Robyn,

And set hym on his kne;