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,