Ne half out of þe hyde,
There cam a schrewde arwe out of þe west,
Þat felde Robertes pryde.
7
Gandeleyn lokyd hym est and west,
Be euery syde:
‘Hoo hat myn mayster slayin?
Ho hat don þis dede?
Xal I neuer out of grene wode go
Til I se [his] sydis blede.’