Robyn stode in Bernesdale,
And lenyd hym to a tre
And bi hym stode Litell Johnn,
A gode yeman was he,

And alsoo dyd gode Scarlok,

And Much, the millers son:
There was none ynch of his bodi
But it was worth a grome.

Green Wode's button:

Welcom be thou to grene wode

The First Fytte

Lythe and listin, gentilmen,
That be of frebore blode;
I shall you tel of a gode yeman,
His name was Robyn Hode.

Robyn was a prude outlaw,
Whyles he walked on grounde:
So curteyse an outlawe as he was one
Was nevere non founde.

Than bespake Lytell John

All untoo Robyn Hode:

"Maister, and ye wolde dyne betymet
It wolde doo you moche gode."Than bespake hym gode Robyn:
"To dyne have I noo lust,
Till that I have som bolde baron,
Or som unkouth gest.