Bold Robin Hood is gone to shore,
And took his bowe in his hand.
One of his best arrowes under his belt,
To the fryer he let fly;
The curtall fryer with his Steele buckler,
Did put that arrow by.
"Shoot on, shoot on, thou fine fellow,
Shoot as thou hast begun;
If thou shoot here a summer's day,
Thy marke I will not shun."