CCLXXXVII
‘Busk you, my merry young men,
Ye shall go with me;
And I will wete[864] the Sheriff’s faith,
True an if he be.
CCLXXXVIII
When they had their bows i-bent,
Their tackles[865] feather’d free,
Seven score of wight young men
Stood by Robin’s knee.
CCLXXXIX
When they came to Nottingham,
The butts were fair and long;
Many was the bold archèr
That shot with bowè strong.
CCXC
‘There shall but six shoot with me,
The other shall keep my heed,
And stand with good bowès bent
That I be not deceived.’
CCXCI
The fourth outlaw his bow gan bend,
And that was Robin Hood,
And that beheld the proud Sheriff,
All by the butt he stood.