That shotynge wyll I se.

Buske you, my mery yonge men,

Ye shall go with me ;

And I wyll wete the shryves fayth,

Trewe and yf he be.”

Whan they had theyr bowes ibent,

Theyr takles fedred fre,

Seven score of wyght yonge men

Stode by Robyns kne. {52}

Whan they cam to Notyngham,