Robin loved our dear Lad-y,
For dout of deadly sin;
Would he never do company harm
That any woman was in.
"Master," then said Little John,
"An we our board shall spread,
Tell us whither we shall gon,
And what life we shall lead;
Where we shall take, where we shall leave,
Where we shall bide behind,
Where we shall rob, where we shall reve,
Where we shall beat and bind."
"Thereof no force," then said Rob-in,
"We shall do well enow;
But look ye do no housbonde harm
That tilleth with his plow;
No more ye shall no good yeoman,
That walk'th by green wood shaw,
Ne no knight, ne no squy-er,
That would be a good fel-aw.
These bishops, and these archbishops,
Ye shall them beat and bind;
The high sheriff of Nottingham,
Him hold in your mind."
"This word shall be holde," said Little John,
"And this lesson shall we lere;
It is ferr-e days, God send us a geste,
That we were at our dinere!"
"Take thy good bow in thy hand," said Robin,
"Let Much wend-e with thee,
And so shall William Scath-elock,
And no man abide with me:
And walk up to the Sa-yl-es,
And so to Watling Street,
And wait after some unketh gest,
Up-chance ye mowe them meet.
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