25. ‘Welcom be thou to grenë wode, Hendë knyght and fre; My maister hath abiden you fastinge, Syr, al these ourës thre.’ 26. ‘Who is thy maister?’ sayde the knyght; Johnn sayde, ‘Robyn Hode’; ‘He is a gode yoman,’ sayde the knyght, ‘Of hym I have herde moche gode. 27. ‘I graunte,’ he sayde, ‘with you to wende, My bretherne, all in fere; My purpos was to have dyned to day At Blith or Dancastere.’ 28. Furth than went this gentyl knight, With a carefull chere; The teris oute of his iyen ran, And fell downe by his lere. 29. They brought him to the lodgë-dore; Whan Robyn gan hym see, Full curtesly dyd of his hode And sette hym on his knee. 30. ‘Welcome, sir knight,’ than sayde Robyn, ‘Welcome art thou to me; I have abyden you fastinge, sir, All these ouris thre.’ 31. Than answered the gentyll knight, With wordës fayre and fre: ‘God thee save, goode Robyn, And all thy fayre meynë.’ 32. They wasshed togeder and wyped bothe, And sette to theyr dynere; Brede and wyne they had right ynoughe, And noumbles of the dere. 33. Swannes and fessauntes they had full gode, And foules of the ryvere; There fayled none so litell a birde That ever was bred on bryre. 34. ‘Do gladly, sir knight,’ sayde Robyn; ‘Gramarcy, sir,’ sayde he; ‘Suche a dinere had I nat Of all these wekys thre. 35. ‘If I come ageyne, Robyn, Here by thys contrë, As gode a dyner I shall thee make As thou haest made to me.’ 36. ‘Gramarcy, knyght,’ sayde Robyn; ‘My dyner whan that I it have, I was never so gredy, by dere worthy God, My dyner for to crave. 37. ‘But pay or ye wende,’ sayde Robyn; ‘Me thynketh it is gode ryght; It was never the maner, by dere worthi God, A yoman to pay for a knyght.’ 38. ‘I have nought in my coffers,’ saide the knyght, ‘That I may prefer for shame’: ‘Litell John, go loke,’ sayde Robyn, ‘Ne let not for no blame. 39. ‘Tel me truth,’ than saide Robyn, ‘So God have parte of thee’: ‘I have no more but ten shelynges,’ sayde the knyght, ‘So God have parte of me.’ 40. ‘If thou have no more,’ sayde Robyn, ‘I woll nat one peny; And yf thou have nede of any more, More shall I lend the. 41. ‘Go nowe furth, Littell Johnn, The truth tell thou me; If there be no more but ten shelinges, No peny that I se.’ 42. Lyttell Johnn sprede downe hys mantell Full fayre upon the grounde, And there he fonde in the knyghtës cofer But even halfe a pounde. 43. Littell Johnn let it lye full styll, And went to hys maysteer full lowe; ‘What tydynges, Johnn?’ sayde Robyn; ‘Sir, the knyght is true inowe.’ 44. ‘Fyll of the best wine,’ sayde Robyn, ‘The knyght shall begynne; Moche wonder thinketh me Thy clothynge is so thinne.