"I make mine avow to God," said Robin, "And to the Trinit-y, It was never by his good will, This good is come to me."
Little John him there bethought, On a shrewed wile, Five mile in the for-est he ran, Him happ-ed at his will; Then be met the proud sher-iff, Hunt-ing with hound and horn, Little John coud his curteysye, And kneel-ed him beforn: "God thee save, my dear mast-er, And Christ thee save and see."
"Raynold Greenleaf," said the sher-iff, "Where hast thou now be?"
"I have be in this for-est, A fair sight can I see, It was one of the fairest sights That ever yet saw I me; Yonder I see a right fair hart, His colour is of green, Seven score of deer upon an herd, Be with him all bedene; His tynde are so sharp, mast-er, Of sixty and well mo, That I durst not shoot for drede Lest they wold me slo."
"I make mine avow to God," said the sheriff, "That sight would I fain see."
"Busk you thitherward, my dear mast-er, Anon, and wend with me."
The sheriff rode, and Little John Of foot he was full smart, And when they came afore Robin: "Lo, here is the master hart!"
Still stood the proud sher-iff, A sorry man was he: "Wo worth thee, Raynold Greenleaf! Thou hast now betray-ed me."