Itt blowes soe well in tyde,
For yonder comes that wighty yeoman,
Cladd in his capull-hyde.
49
‘Come hither, thou good Sir Guy,
Aske of mee what thou wilt haue:’
‘I’le none of thy gold,’ sayes Robin Hood,
‘Nor I’le none of itt haue.
50
‘But now I haue slaine the master,’ he sayd,