The sher-iff gat Little John Twelve months of the knight, Theref-ore he gave him right anon A good horse and a wight.

Now is Little John the sheriff's man, He give us well to speed, But alw-ay thought Little John To quite him well his meed. "Now so God me help," said Little John, "And by my true lewt-e, I sh-all be the worst serv-ant to him That ever yet had he!"

It befell upon a Wednesday, The sheriff a-hunting was gone, And Little John lay in his bed, And was forgot at home. Therefore he was fast-ing Till it was past the none. "Good sir Steward, I pray thee, Give me to dine," said Little John; "It is too long for Greenleaf, Fast-ing so long to be; Therefore I pray thee, stew-ard, My dinner give thou me!"

"Shalt thou never eat ne drink," said the stew-ard, "Till my lord be come to town."

"I make mine avow," said Little John, "I had liever to crack thy crown!"

The butler was full uncurteys, There he stood on floor, He stert to the buttery, And shut fast the door. Little John gave the butler such a stroke His back yede nigh in two, Though he lived an hundred winter, The worse he should-e go. He spurned the door with his foot, It went up well and fine, And there he made a large liveray Both of ale and wine. "Sith ye will not dine," said Little John, "I shall give you to drink, And though ye live an hundred winter, On Little John ye shall think!" Little John ate, and Little John drank, The whil-e that he would. The sheriff had in his kitchen a cook, A stout man and a bold.

"I make mine avow to God," said the cook, "Thou art a shrewd-e hind, In an household to dwell, For to ask thus to dine." And there he lent Little John, Good strok-es three.

"I make mine avow," said Little John, "These strok-es liketh well me. Thou art a bold man and an hardy, And so thinketh me; And ere I pass from this place, Assayed better shalt thou be."