‘Come fill us more wine,’ said jolly Robìn,
‘Let us merry be while we do stay;
For wine and good cheer, be it never so dear,
I vow I the reck’ning will pay.
XVIII
‘Come, brothers, be merry,’ said jolly Robìn,
‘Let us drink, and never give o’er;
For the shot I will pay, ere I go my way,
If it cost me five pounds and more.’
XIX
‘This is a mad blade,’ the butchers then said;
Says the Sheriff, ‘He’s some prodigal,
That his land has sold, for silver and gold,
And meaneth to spend it all.’
XX
‘Hast thou any horn-beasts,’ the Sheriff inquired,
‘Good fellow, to sell unto me?’—
‘Yea, a plenty I have, good Master Sheriff,
I have hundreds two or three.
XXI
‘And a hundred acre of good free land,
An it please you go for to see;
And I’le make you as good assurance of it
As ever my father made me.’