3 The sheriffe he hath made a cry, Hee’le have my head i-wis; But ere a tweluemonth come to an end I may chance to light on his. 4 Robin he marcht in the greene forrest, Vnder the greenwood scray, And there he was ware of a proud bucher, Came driuing flesh by the way. 5 The bucher he had a cut-taild dogg, And at Robins face he flew; But Robin he was a good sword, The bucher’s dogg he slew. 6 ‘Why slayes thou my dogg?’ sayes the bucher, ‘For he did none ill to thee; By all the s_ain_ts that are in heaven Thou shalt haue buffetts three.’ 7 He tooke his staffe then in his hand, And he turnd him round about: ‘Thou hast a litle wild blood in thy head, Good fellow, thou’st haue it letten out.’ 8 ‘He that does that deed,’ sayes Robin, ‘I’le count him for a man; But that while will I draw my sword, And fend it if I can.’ 9 But Robin he stroke att the bloudy bucher, In place were he did stand, * * * * * 10 ‘I [am] a younge bucher,’ sayes Robin, ‘You fine dames am I come amonge; But euer I beseech you, good Mrs Sheriffe, You must see me take noe wronge.’ 11 ‘Thou art verry welcome,’ said M_aster_ Sherriff’s wiffe, ‘Thy inne heere up [to] take; If any good ffellow come in thy companie, Hee’st be welcome for thy sake.’ 12 Robin called ffor ale, soe did he for wine, And for it he did pay: ‘I must to my markett goe,’ says Robin, ‘For I hold time itt of the day.’ 13 But Robin is to the markett gone, Soe quickly and beliue, He sold more flesh for one peny Then othe[r] buchers did for fiue. 14 The drew about the younge bucher, Like sheepe into a fold; Yea neuer a bucher had sold a bitt Till Robin he had all sold. 15 When Robin Hood had his markett made, His flesh was sold and gone; Yea he had receiued but a litle mony, But thirty pence and one. 16 Seaven buchers, the garded Robin Hood, Ffull many time and oft; Sayes, We must drinke w_i_th you, brother bucher, It’s custome of our crafte. 17 ‘If that be the custome of yo_u_r crafte, As heere you tell to me, Att four of the clocke in the afternoone At the sheriffs hall I wilbe.’ * * * * * 18 . . . . . . . ‘If thou doe like it well; Yea heere is more by three hundred pound Then thou hast beasts to sell.’ 19 Robyn sayd naught, the more he thought: ‘Mony neere comes out of time; If once I catch thee in the greene fforest, _Tha_t mony it shall be mine.’ 20 But on the next day seuen butchers Came to guard the sheriffe that day; But Robin he was the whigh[t]est man, He led them all the way. 21 He led them into the greene fforest, Vnder the trusty tree; Yea, there were harts, and ther were hynds, And staggs w_i_th heads full high.