4. And alsoo dyd gode Scarlok, And Much, the miller’s son; There was none ynch of his bodi But it was worth a grome. 5. Than bespake Lytell Johnn All untoo Robyn Hode: ‘Maister, and ye wolde dyne betyme It wolde doo you moche gode.’ 6. Than bespake hym gode Robyn: ‘To dyne have I noo lust, Till that I have som bolde baron, Or som unkouth gest. 7. ... ... ... ‘That may pay for the best, Or some knyght or som squyer That dwelleth here bi west.’ 8. A gode maner than had Robyn: In londe where that he were, Every day or he wold dyne Thre messis wolde he here. 9. The one in the worship of the Fader, And another of the Holy Gost, The thirde was of Our dere Lady That he loved allther moste. 10. Robyn loved Oure dere Lady; For dout of dydly synne, Wolde he never do compani harme That any woman was in. 11. ‘Maistar,’ than sayde Lytil Johnn, ‘And we our borde shal sprede, Tell us wheeler that we shall go And what life that we shall lede. 12. ‘Where we shall take, where we shall leve, Where we shall abide behynde; Where we shall robbe, where we shall reve, Where we shall bete and bynde.’ 13. ‘Thereof no force,’ than sayde Robyn; ‘We shall do well inowe; But loke ye do no husbonde harme That tilleth with his ploughe. 14. ‘No more ye shall no gode yeman That walketh by grene-wode shawe; Ne no knyght ne no squyer That wol be a gode felawe. 15. ‘These bisshoppes and these archebishoppes, Ye shall them bete and bynde; The hye sherif of Notyingham, Hym holde ye in your mynde.’ 16. ‘This worde shalbe holde,’ sayde Lytell Johnn, ‘And this lesson we shall lere; It is fer dayes; God sende us a gest, That we were at our dynere.’ 17. ‘Take thy gode bowe in thy honde,’ sayde Robyn; ‘Late Much wende with thee; And so shal Willyam Scarlok, And no man abyde with me. 18. ‘And walke up to the Saylis And so to Watlinge Strete, And wayte after some unkuth gest, Up chaunce ye may them mete. 19. ‘Be he erle, or ani baron, Abbot, or ani knyght, Bringhe hym to lodge to me; His dyner shall be dight.’ 20. They wente up to the Saylis, These yemen all three; They loked est, they loked weest, They myght no man see. 21. But as they loked in to Bernysdale, Bi a dernë strete, Than came a knyght ridinghe; Full sone they gan hym mete. 22. All dreri was his semblaunce, And lytell was his pryde; His one fote in the styrop stode, That othere wavyd beside. 23. His hode hanged in his iyn two; He rode in symple aray; A soriar man than he was one Rode never in somer day. 24. Litell Johnn was full curteyes, And sette hym on his kne: ‘Welcome be ye, gentyll knyght, Welcom ar ye to me.