‘Now wil I be porter,’ seid Litul John,
‘And take þe keyes in honde:’
He toke þe way to Robyn Hode,
And sone he hym vnbonde.
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He gaf hym a gode swerd in his hond,
His hed [ther]with for to kepe,
And ther as þe walle was lowyst
Anon down can þei lepe.
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