"And every yere of Robyn Hode Twenty marke to thy fee:" 110 "Put up thy swerde," sayd the coke, "And felowes wyll we be." Then he fette to Lytell Johan The numbles of a doo, Good brede and full good wyne; 115 They ete and dranke therto. And whan they had dronken well, Ther trouthes togyder they plyght, That they wolde be with Robyn That ylke same day at nyght. 120 They dyde them to the tresure-hous,[L121] As fast as they myght gone; The lockes, that were of good stele, They brake them everychone. They toke away the sylver vessell, 125 And all that they myght get, Peces, masars, and spones Wolde they non forgete. Also they toke the good pence, Thre hondred pounde and three, 130 And dyde them strayt to Robyn Hode, Under the grene wode tre. "God the save, my dere maystèr, And Cryst the save and se;" And than sayd Robyn to Lytell Johan, 135 "Welcome myght thou be; "And also be that fayre yemàn Thou bryngest there with the. What tydynges fro Notyngham? Lytell Johan, tell thou me." 140 "Well the greteth the proude sheryfe, And sende the here by me His coke and his sylver vessell, And thre hondred pounde and thre." "I make myn avow to god," sayd Robyn, 145 "And to the trenytè, It was never by his good wyll This good is come to me." Lytell Johan hym there bethought On a shrewed wyle;[L150] 150 Fyve myle in the forest he ran, Hym happed at his wyll. Than he met the proud sheryf, Huntynge with hounde and horne; Lytell Johan coud his curteysye, 155 And kneled hym beforne. "God the save, my dere maystèr, And Cryst the save and se;" "Raynolde Grenelefe," sayd the sheryfe, "Where hast thou nowe be?" 160 "I have be in this forest, A fayre syght can I se; It was one of the fayrest syghtes[L163] That ever yet sawe I me. "Yonder I se a ryght fayre hart, 165 His coloure is of grene; Seven score of dere upon an herde Be with hym all bedene. "His tynde are so sharp, maystèr, Of sexty and well mo, 170 That I durst not shote for drede Lest they wolde me sloo." "I make myn avowe to god," sayd the sheryf, "That syght wolde I fayn se;" "Buske you thyderwarde, my dere maystèr, 175 Anone, and wende with me." The sheryfe rode, and Lytell Johan Of fote he was full smarte; And when they came afore Robyn, "Lo, here is the mayster harte!" 180