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ROBIN HOOD AND HIS MEINY
CCCXXXIX
' The proud Sheriff hath him i-take
Forsooth as I thee say; He is not yet three miles,
Passed on his way.'
CCCXL
Up then started good Robin As a man that had been wood;
' Buske you, my merry men,
For Him that died on rood !
CCCXLI ' And he that this sorrow forsaketh.
By Him that died on a tree, And by Him that all things maketh,
No longer shall dwell with me.'
CCCXLII
Soon there were good bows y-bent,
More than seven score ; Hedge nor ditch they spared none
That was them before.
CCCXLIII
' I make mine avow to God,' said Robin,
' The Knight would I fain see, And if I may him take, I-quit then shall he be.'
CCCXLIV
And when they came to Nottingham,
They walked in the street; And with the proud Sheriff i-wis
Soone gan they meet.
wood] furious, mad.
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