"if it be not true, my deare Master, god let me neuer dye." 52 "if it be not true, thou little foot page, a dead corse shalt thou be."
he called downe his head kookes man, cooke in kitchen super to dresse: 56 "all & anon, my deare Master, anon at your request."
"& call you downe my faire Lady, this night to supp with mee." 60
& downe then came that fayre Lady, was cladd all in purple & palle, the rings that were vpon her fingers cast light thorrow the hall. 64
"What is your will, my owne wed Lord, what is your will with mee?" "I am sicke, fayre Lady, sore sicke, & like to dye." 68
"but & you be sicke, my owne wed Lord, soe sore it greiueth mee, but my 5 maydens & my selfe will goe & make your bedd, 72
"& at the wakening of your first sleepe, you shall haue a hott drinke Made, & at the wakening of your first sleepe your sorrowes will haue a slake." 76
he put a silke cote on his backe, was 13 inches folde, & put a steele cap vpon his head, was gilded with good red gold; 80
& he layd a bright browne sword by his side, & another att his ffeete, & full well knew old Robin then whether he shold wake or sleepe. 84
& about the Middle time of the Night came 24 good knights in, Syr Gyles he was the formost man, soe well he knew that ginne. 88
Old Robin with a bright browne sword Sir Gyles head he did winne, soe did he all those 24, neuer a one went quicke out [agen;] 92
none but one litle foot page crept forth at a window of stone, & he had 2 armes when he came in And [when he went out he had none]. 96
Vpp then came that Ladie bright with torches burning light; shee thought to haue brought Sir Gyles a drinke, but shee found her owne wedd Knight, 100
& the first thinge that this Ladye stumbled vpon, was of Sir Gyles his ffoote, sayes, "euer alacke, and woe is me, heere lyes my sweete hart roote!" 104
& the 2^d thing that this Ladie stumbled on, was of Sir Gyles his head, sayes, "euer alacke, and woe is me, heere lyes my true loue deade!" 108
hee cutt the papps beside he[r] brest, & bad her wish her will, & he cutt the eares beside her heade, & bade her wish on still. 112
"Mickle is the mans blood I haue spent to doe thee & me some good," sayes, "euer alacke, my fayre Lady, I thinke that I was woode?" 116