And he that shoteth al of the best,

Furthest, fayre and lowe,

At a payre of goodly buttes,

Under the grene wood shaw

A ryght good arrowe he shal have,

The shaft of sylver whyte,

The head, and fethers of riche red gold,

In England is none lyke.—

And when they came to Notyngham,

The buttes were fayre and longe.—