When he came to green-e wood,
In a merr-y morning,
There he heard the not-es small
Of bird-es merry sing-ing.
"It is ferre gone," said Rob-in,
"That I was last here,
Me list a little for to shoot
At the dunne deer."
Robin slew a full great hart,
His horn then gan he blow,
That all the outlaws of that for-est,
That horn could they know,
And gathered them together,
In a little throw,
Seven score of wight young men,
Came ready on a row;
And fair did off their hoods,
And set them on their knee:
"Welcome," they said, "our mast-er,
Under this green wood tree!"
Robin dwelled in green wood,
Twenty year and two,
For all dread of Edward our king,
Again would he not go.
Yet he was beguiled, i-wis,
Through a wicked wom-an,
The Prioress of Kirklees,
That nigh was of his kin,
For the love of a knight,
Sir Roger of Doncaster,
That was her own special,
Full evil mote they thee,
They took together their couns-el,
Robin Hood for to sle,
And how they might best do that deed,
His banis for to be.
Then bespak-e good Rob-in,
In place whereas he stood,
"To-morrow I must to Kirklees,
Craftily to be letten blood.
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