CC
‘Or I here another night lie,’ said the Sheriff,
‘Robin, now I pray thee,
Smite off my head rather to-morne[820],
And I forgive it thee.
CCI
‘Let me go,’ then said the Sheriff,
‘For saint Charity!
And I will be thy best friend
That ever yet had thee.’
CCII
‘Thou shalt swear me an oath,’ said Robin,
‘On my bright brand[821],
Thou shalt never await[822] me scathe[823],
By water nor by land.
CCIII
‘And if thou find any of my men,
By night or by day,
Upon thine oath thou shalt swear,
To help them that thou may.’
CCIV
Now has the Sheriff i-sworn his oath,
And home he began to gone,
He was as full of green-wood
As ever was hip[824] of stone.