n a herde
Be with hym all bydene.

186.
'Their tyndes are so sharp, maister,
Of sexty, and well mo,
That I durst not shote for drede,
Lest they wolde me slo.'

187.
'I make myn avowe to God,' sayde the shyref,
'That syght wolde I fayne se.'
'Buske you thyderwarde, my dere mayster,
Anone, and wende with me.'

188.
The sherif rode, and Litell Johnn
Of fote he was full smerte,
And whane they came before Robyn,
'Lo, sir, here is the mayster-herte.'

189.
Still stode the proude sherief,
A sory man was he;
'Wo the worthe, Raynolde Grenelefe,
Thou hast betrayed nowe me.'

190.
'I make myn avowe to God,' sayde Litell Johnn,
'Mayster, ye be to blame;
I was mysserved of my dynere
When I was with you at home.'

191.
Sone he was to souper sette,
And served well with silver white,
And when the sherif sawe his vessell,
For sorowe he myght nat ete.

192.
'Make glad chere,' sayde Robyn Hode,
'Sherif, for charite,
And for the love of Litill Johnn
Thy lyfe I graunt to thee.'

193.
Whan they had souped well,
The day was al gone;
Robyn commaunded Litell Johnn
To drawe of his hosen and his shone;

194.
His kirtell, and his cote of pie,
That was fured well and fine,
And toke hym a grene mantel,
To lap his body therein.

195.
Robyn commaundyd his wight yonge men,
Under the grene-wode tree,
They shulde lye in that same sute
That the sherif myght them see.

196.
All nyght lay the proude sherif
In his breche and in his schert;
No wonder it was, in grene wode,
Though his sydes gan to smerte.

197.
'Make glad chere,' sayde Robyn Hode,
'Sheref, for charite;
For this is our ordre i-wys
Under the grene-wode tree.'

198.
'This is harder order,' sayde the sherief,
'Than any ankir or frere;
For all the golde in mery Englonde
I wolde nat longe dwell her.'

199.
'All this twelve monthes,' sayde Robin,
'Thou shalt dwell with me;
I shall thee teche, proude sherif,
An outlawe for to be.'

200.
'Or I be here another nyght,' sayde the sherif,
'Robyn, nowe pray I thee,
Smyte of min hede rather to-morrowe,
And I forgyve it thee.

201.
'Lat me go,' than sayde the sherif,
'For saynte charite,
And I woll be the beste frende
That ever yet had ye.'

202.
'Thou shalt swere me an