“Gramarsey,” seyde the weyffe,
“Sir, god eylde het the;”
The screffes hart was never so leythe,
The feyr forest to se.

And when he cam ynto the foreyst,
Yonder the leffes grene,
Berdys ther sange on bowhes prest,
Het was gret joy to sene.

“Her het ys mercy to be,” seyde Roben,
“For a man that had hawt to spende;
Be mey horne we schall awet
Yeff Roben Hode be ner hande.”

Roben set hes horne to hes mowthe,
And blow a blast that was full god,
That herde hes men that ther stode,
Fer downe yn the wodde;
“I her mey master,” seyde Leytell John;
They ran as thay wer wode.

Whan thay to thar master cam,
Leytell John wold not spar;
“Master, how haffe yow far yn Notynggam? 
How haffe yow solde yowr war?”

“Ye, be mey trowthe, Leytyll John,
Loke thow take no car;
Y haffe browt the screffe of Notynggam,
For all howr chaffar.”

“He ys foll wellcom,” seyde Lytyll John, “Thes tydyng ys foll godde;” The screffe had lever nar a hundred ponde [He had never sene Roben Hode.]

“Had I west that beforen,
At Notynggam when we wer,
Thow scholde not com yn feyr forest
Of all thes thowsande eyr.”

“That wot y well,” seyde Roben,
“Y thanke god that ye be her;
Therfor schall ye leffe yowr horse with hos,
And all your hother ger.”

“That fend I godys forbode,” kod the screffe,
“So to lese mey godde;”
“Hether ye cam on horse foll hey,
And hom schall ye go on fote;
And gret well they weyffe at home,
The woman ys foll godde.

“Y schall her sende a wheyt palffrey,
Het hambellet as the weynde;
Ner for the loffe of yowr weyffe,
Off mor sorow scholde yow seyng.”

Thes parted Robyn Hode and the screffe,
To Notynggam he toke the waye;
Hes weyffe feyr welcomed hem hom,
And to hem gan sche saye: 

“Seyr, how haffe yow fared yn grene foreyst? 
Haffe ye browt Roben hom?”
“Dam, the deyell spede him, bothe bodey and bon,
Y haffe hade a foll grete skorne.

“Of all the god that y haffe lade to grene wod,
He hayt take het fro me,
All bot this feyr palffrey,
That he hayt sende to the.”

With that sche toke op a lowde lawhyng,
And swhar be hem that deyed on tre,
“Now haffe yow payed for all the pottys
That Roben gaffe to me.

“Now ye be corn hom to Notynggam,
Ye schall haffe god ynowe;”
Now speke we of Roben Hode,
And of the pottyr onder the grene bowhe.

“Potter, what was they pottys worthe
To Notynggam that y ledde with me?”
“They wer worth two nobellys,” seyd he,
“So mot y treyffe or the;
So cowde y had for tham,
And y had ther be.”

“Thow schalt hafe ten ponde,” seyde Roben,
“Of money feyr and fre;
And yever whan thou comest to grene wod,
Wellcom, potter to me.”

Thes partyd Robyn, the screffe, and the potter,
Ondernethe the grene-wod tre;
God haffe mersey on Robyn Hodys solle,
And saffe all god yemanrey!