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+Project Gutenberg's Etext of The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood
+#1 in our series by Howard Pyle
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+The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood
+
+by Howard Pyle
+
+June, 1997  [Etext #964]
+
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+Project Gutenberg's Etext of The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood
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+The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood
+
+by Howard Pyle
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+FROM THE AUTHOR TO THE READER
+
+
+You who so plod amid serious things that you feel it shame to give
+yourself up even for a few short moments to mirth and joyousness
+in the land of Fancy; you who think that life hath nought to do with
+innocent laughter that can harm no one; these pages are not for you.
+Clap to the leaves and go no farther than this, for I tell you plainly
+that if you go farther you will be scandalized by seeing good,
+sober folks of real history so frisk and caper in gay colors and motley
+that you would not know them but for the names tagged to them.
+Here is a stout, lusty fellow with a quick temper, yet none so ill
+for all that, who goes by the name of Henry II.  Here is a fair,
+gentle lady before whom all the others bow and call her
+Queen Eleanor.  Here is a fat rogue of a fellow, dressed up in rich
+robes of a clerical kind, that all the good folk call my Lord Bishop
+of Hereford.  Here is a certain fellow with a sour temper and a grim look--
+the worshipful, the Sheriff of Nottingham.  And here, above all,
+is a great, tall, merry fellow that roams the greenwood and joins
+in homely sports, and sits beside the Sheriff at merry feast, which same
+beareth the name of the proudest of the Plantagenets--Richard of
+the Lion's Heart.  Beside these are a whole host of knights,
+priests, nobles, burghers, yeomen, pages, ladies, lasses, landlords,
+beggars, peddlers, and what not, all living the merriest of merry lives,
+and all bound by nothing but a few odd strands of certain old ballads
+(snipped and clipped and tied together again in a score of knots)
+which draw these jocund fellows here and there, singing as they go.
+
+Here you will find a hundred dull, sober, jogging places, all tricked out with
+flowers and what not, till no one would know them in their fanciful dress.
+And here is a country bearing a well-known name, wherein no chill mists
+press upon our spirits, and no rain falls but what rolls off our backs
+like April showers off the backs of sleek drakes; where flowers bloom
+forever and birds are always singing; where every fellow hath a merry catch
+as he travels the roads, and ale and beer and wine (such as muddle no wits)
+flow like water in a brook.
+
+This country is not Fairyland.  What is it?  'Tis the land of Fancy, and is
+of that pleasant kind that, when you tire of it--whisk!--you clap the leaves
+of this book together and 'tis gone, and you are ready for everyday life,
+with no harm done.
+
+And now I lift the curtain that hangs between here and
+No-man's-land. Will you come with me, sweet Reader?  I thank you.
+Give me your hand.
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER PAGE
+
+ I         HOW ROBIN HOOD CAME TO BE AN OUTLAW            1
+ II        ROBIN HOOD AND THE TINKER                     14
+ III       THE SHOOTING MATCH AT NOTTINGHAM TOWN         27
+ IV        WILL STUTELY RESCUED BY HIS COMPANIONS        38
+ V         ROBIN HOOD TURNS BUTCHER                      50
+ VI        LITTLE JOHN GOES TO NOTTINGHAM FAIR           61
+ VII       HOW LITTLE JOHN LIVED AT THE SHERIFF'S        68
+ VIII      LITTLE JOHN AND THE TANNER OF BLYTH           81
+ IX        ROBIN HOOD AND WILL SCARLET                   92
+ X         THE ADVENTURE WITH MIDGE, THE MILLER'S SON   102
+ Xl        ROBIN HOOD AND ALLAN A DALE                  115
+ XII       ROBIN HOOD SEEKS THE CURTAL FRIAR            129
+ XIII      ROBIN HOOD COMPASSES A MARRIAGE              145
+ XIV       ROBIN HOOD AIDS A SORROWFUL KNIGHT           156
+ XV        HOW SIR RICHARD OF THE LEA PAID HIS DEBTS    172
+ XVI       LITTLE JOHN TURNS BAREFOOT FRIAR             186
+ XVII      ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEGGAR                      202
+ XVIII     ROBIN HOOD SHOOTS BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR       222
+ XIX       THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD                      243
+ XX        ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBOURNE              262
+ XXI       KING RICHARD COMES TO SHERWOOD FOREST        281
+           EPILOGUE                                     300
+
+
+
+How Robin Hood Cane to Be an Outlaw
+
+IN MERRY ENGLAND in the time of old, when good King Henry the Second
+ruled the land, there lived within the green glades of Sherwood Forest,
+near Nottingham Town, a famous outlaw whose name was Robin Hood.  No archer
+ever lived that could speed a gray goose shaft with such skill
+and cunning as his, nor were there ever such yeomen as the sevenscore
+merry men that roamed with him through the greenwood shades.
+Right merrily they dwelled within the depths of Sherwood Forest,
+suffering neither care nor want, but passing the time in merry games
+of archery or bouts of cudgel play, living upon the King's venison,
+washed down with draughts of ale of October brewing.
+
+Not only Robin himself but all the band were outlaws and dwelled apart
+from other men, yet they were beloved by the country people round about,
+for no one ever came to jolly Robin for help in time of need and went
+away again with an empty fist.
+
+And now I will tell how it came about that Robin Hood fell afoul
+of the law.
+
+When Robin was a youth of eighteen, stout of sinew and bold
+of heart, the Sheriff of Nottingham proclaimed a shooting
+match and offered a prize of a butt of ale to whosoever should
+shoot the best shaft in Nottinghamshire.  "Now," quoth Robin,
+"will I go too, for fain would I draw a string for the bright
+eyes of my lass and a butt of good October brewing."
+So up he got and took his good stout yew bow and a score or more
+of broad clothyard arrows, and started off from Locksley Town
+through Sherwood Forest to Nottingham.
+
+It was at the dawn of day in the merry Maytime, when hedgerows are green
+and flowers bedeck the meadows; daisies pied and yellow cuckoo buds
+and fair primroses all along the briery hedges; when apple buds blossom
+and sweet birds sing, the lark at dawn of day, the throstle cock and cuckoo;
+when lads and lasses look upon each other with sweet thoughts; when busy
+housewives spread their linen to bleach upon the bright green grass.
+Sweet was the greenwood as he walked along its paths, and bright the green
+and rustling leaves, amid which the little birds sang with might and main:
+and blithely Robin whistled as he trudged along, thinking of Maid Marian
+and her bright eyes, for at such times a youth's thoughts are wont to turn
+pleasantly upon the lass that he loves the best.
+
+As thus he walked along with a brisk step and a merry whistle,
+he came suddenly upon some foresters seated beneath a great
+oak tree.  Fifteen there were in all, making themselves merry
+with feasting and drinking as they sat around a huge pasty,
+to which each man helped himself, thrusting his hands into the pie,
+and washing down that which they ate with great horns of ale
+which they drew all foaming from a barrel that stood nigh.
+Each man was clad in Lincoln green, and a fine show they made,
+seated upon the sward beneath that fair, spreading tree.
+Then one of them, with his mouth full, called out
+to Robin, "Hulloa, where goest thou, little lad, with thy
+one-penny bow and thy farthing shafts?"
+
+Then Robin grew angry, for no stripling likes to be taunted
+with his green years.
+
+"Now," quoth he, "my bow and eke mine arrows are as good as shine;
+and moreover, I go to the shooting match at Nottingham Town,
+which same has been proclaimed by our good Sheriff of Nottinghamshire;
+there I will shoot with other stout yeomen, for a prize has been
+offered of a fine butt of ale."
+
+Then one who held a horn of ale in his hand said, "Ho! listen to the lad!
+Why, boy, thy mother's milk is yet scarce dry upon thy lips, and yet
+thou pratest of standing up with good stout men at Nottingham butts,
+thou who art scarce able to draw one string of a two-stone bow."
+
+"I'll hold the best of you twenty marks," quoth bold Robin,
+"that I hit the clout at threescore rods, by the good help
+of Our Lady fair."
+
+At this all laughed aloud, and one said, "Well boasted, thou fair infant,
+well boasted!  And well thou knowest that no target is nigh to make
+good thy wager."
+
+And another cried, "He will be taking ale with his milk next."
+
+At this Robin grew right mad.  "Hark ye," said he, "yonder, at the
+glade's end, I see a herd of deer, even more than threescore rods distant.
+I'll hold you twenty marks that, by leave of Our Lady, I cause the best
+hart among them to die."
+
+"Now done!" cried he who had spoken first.  "And here are twenty marks.
+I wager that thou causest no beast to die, with or without the aid
+of Our Lady."
+
+Then Robin took his good yew bow in his hand, and placing the tip
+at his instep, he strung it right deftly; then he nocked a broad
+clothyard arrow and, raising the bow, drew the gray goose feather
+to his ear; the next moment the bowstring rang and the arrow
+sped down the glade as a sparrowhawk skims in a northern wind.
+High leaped the noblest hart of all the herd, only to fall dead,
+reddening the green path with his heart's blood.
+
+"Ha!" cried Robin, "how likest thou that shot, good fellow?
+I wot the wager were mine, an it were three hundred pounds."
+
+Then all the foresters were filled with rage, and he who had spoken
+the first and had lost the wager was more angry than all.
+
+"Nay," cried he, "the wager is none of thine, and get
+thee gone, straightway, or, by all the saints of heaven,
+I'll baste thy sides until thou wilt ne'er be able to walk again."
+"Knowest thou not," said another, "that thou hast killed the
+King's deer, and, by the laws of our gracious lord and sovereign
+King Harry, thine ears should be shaven close to thy head?"
+
+"Catch him!" cried a third.
+
+"Nay," said a fourth, "let him e'en go because of his tender years."
+
+Never a word said Robin Hood, but he looked at the foresters with a grim face;
+then, turning on his heel, strode away from them down the forest glade.
+But his heart was bitterly angry, for his blood was hot and youthful
+and prone to boil.
+
+Now, well would it have been for him who had first spoken had he left
+Robin Hood alone; but his anger was hot, both because the youth
+had gotten the better of him and because of the deep draughts of ale
+that he had been quaffing.  So, of a sudden, without any warning,
+he sprang to his feet, and seized upon his bow and fitted it to a shaft.
+"Ay," cried he, "and I'll hurry thee anon."  And he sent the arrow
+whistling after Robin.
+
+It was well for Robin Hood that that same forester's head was
+spinning with ale, or else he would never have taken another step.
+As it was, the arrow whistled within three inches of his head.
+Then he turned around and quickly drew his own bow, and sent
+an arrow back in return.
+
+"Ye said I was no archer," cried he aloud, "but say so now again!"
+
+The shaft flew straight; the archer fell forward with a cry,
+and lay on his face upon the ground, his arrows rattling about
+him from out of his quiver, the gray goose shaft wet with his;
+heart's blood.  Then, before the others could gather their wits
+about them, Robin Hood was gone into the depths of the greenwood.
+Some started after him, but not with much heart, for each feared
+to suffer the death of his fellow; so presently they all came
+and lifted the dead man up and bore him away to Nottingham Town.
+
+Meanwhile Robin Hood ran through the greenwood.  Gone was all the joy
+and brightness from everything, for his heart was sick within him,
+and it was borne in upon his soul that he had slain a man.
+
+"Alas!" cried he, "thou hast found me an archer that will make
+thy wife to wring!  I would that thou hadst ne'er said one word
+to me, or that I had never passed thy way, or e'en that my right
+forefinger had been stricken off ere that this had happened!
+In haste I smote, but grieve I sore at leisure!"  And then,
+even in his trouble, he remembered the old saw that "What is done
+is done; and the egg cracked cannot be cured."
+
+And so he came to dwell in the greenwood that was to be his home
+for many a year to come, never again to see the happy days with
+the lads and lasses of sweet Locksley Town; for he was outlawed,
+not only because he had killed a man, but also because he had poached
+upon the King's deer, and two hundred pounds were set upon his head,
+as a reward for whoever would bring him to the court of the King.
+
+Now the Sheriff of Nottingham swore that he himself would
+bring this knave Robin Hood to justice, and for two reasons:
+first, because he wanted the two hundred pounds, and next,
+because the forester that Robin Hood had killed was of kin to him.
+
+But Robin Hood lay hidden in Sherwood Forest for one year,
+and in that time there gathered around him many others like himself,
+cast out from other folk for this cause and for that.
+Some had shot deer in hungry wintertime, when they could get
+no other food, and had been seen in the act by the foresters,
+but had escaped, thus saving their ears; some had been turned
+out of their inheritance, that their farms might be added
+to the King's lands in Sherwood Forest; some had been despoiled
+by a great baron or a rich abbot or a powerful esquire--
+all, for one cause or another, had come to Sherwood to escape
+wrong and oppression.
+
+So, in all that year, fivescore or more good stout yeomen gathered
+about Robin Hood, and chose him to be their leader and chief.
+Then they vowed that even as they themselves had been despoiled they
+would despoil their oppressors, whether baron, abbot, knight, or squire,
+and that from each they would take that which had been wrung from
+the poor by unjust taxes, or land rents, or in wrongful fines.
+But to the poor folk they would give a helping hand in need and trouble,
+and would return to them that which had been unjustly taken from them.
+Besides this, they swore never to harm a child nor to wrong a woman,
+be she maid, wife, or widow; so that, after a while, when the people
+began to find that no harm was meant to them, but that money or food
+came in time of want to many a poor family, they came to praise Robin
+and his merry men, and to tell many tales of him and of his doings
+in Sherwood Forest, for they felt him to be one of themselves.
+
+Up rose Robin Hood one merry morn when all the birds were singing blithely
+among the leaves, and up rose all his merry men, each fellow washing his head
+and hands in the cold brown brook that leaped laughing from stone to stone.
+Then said Robin, "For fourteen days have we seen no sport, so now I
+will go abroad to seek adventures forthwith.  But tarry ye, my merry
+men all, here in the greenwood; only see that ye mind well my call.
+Three blasts upon the bugle horn I will blow in my hour of need;
+then come quickly, for I shall want your aid."
+
+So saying, he strode away through the leafy forest glades until he had
+come to the verge of Sherwood.  There he wandered for a long time,
+through highway and byway, through dingly dell and forest skirts.
+Now he met a fair buxom lass in a shady lane, and each gave the other
+a merry word and passed their way; now he saw a fair lady upon an
+ambling pad, to whom he doffed his cap, and who bowed sedately in return
+to the fair youth; now he saw a fat monk on a pannier-laden ass;
+now a gallant knight, with spear and shield and armor that flashed
+brightly in the sunlight; now a page clad in crimson; and now a stout
+burgher from good Nottingham Town, pacing along with serious footsteps;
+all these sights he saw, but adventure found he none.  At last he took
+a road by the forest skirts, a bypath that dipped toward a broad,
+pebbly stream spanned by a narrow bridge made of a log of wood.  As he drew
+nigh this bridge he saw a tall stranger coming from the other side.
+Thereupon Robin quickened his pace, as did the stranger likewise,
+each thinking to cross first.
+
+"Now stand thou back," quoth Robin, "and let the better man cross first."
+
+"Nay," answered the stranger, "then stand back shine own self,
+for the better man, I wet, am I."
+
+"That will we presently see," quoth Robin, "and meanwhile stand thou
+where thou art, or else, by the bright brow of Saint AElfrida, I will show
+thee right good Nottingham play with a clothyard shaft betwixt thy ribs."
+
+"Now," quoth the stranger, "I will tan thy hide till it be as many colors
+as a beggar's cloak, if thou darest so much as touch a string of that same bow
+that thou holdest in thy hands."
+
+"Thou pratest like an ass," said Robin, "for I could send this
+shaft clean through thy proud heart before a curtal friar could
+say grace over a roast goose at Michaelmastide."
+
+"And thou pratest like a coward," answered the stranger,
+"for thou standest there with a good yew bow to shoot at my heart,
+while I have nought in my hand but a plain blackthorn staff
+wherewith to meet thee."
+
+"Now," quoth Robin, "by the faith of my heart, never have I had a coward's
+name in all my life before.  I will lay by my trusty bow and eke my arrows,
+and if thou darest abide my coming, I will go and cut a cudgel to test
+thy manhood withal."
+
+"Ay, marry, that will I abide thy coming, and joyously, too,"
+quoth the stranger; whereupon he leaned sturdily upon his staff
+to await Robin.
+
+Then Robin Hood stepped quickly to the coverside and cut a good
+staff of ground oak, straight, without new, and six feet in length,
+and came back trimming away the tender stems from it, while the stranger
+waited for him, leaning upon his staff, and whistling as he gazed
+round about.  Robin observed him furtively as he trimmed his staff,
+measuring him from top to toe from out the corner of his eye,
+and thought that he had never seen a lustier or a stouter man.
+Tall was Robin, but taller was the stranger by a head and a neck,
+for he was seven feet in height.  Broad was Robin across the shoulders,
+but broader was the stranger by twice the breadth of a palm,
+while he measured at least an ell around the waist.
+
+"Nevertheless," said Robin to himself, "I will baste thy hide right merrily,
+my good fellow"; then, aloud, "Lo, here is my good staff, lusty and tough.
+Now wait my coming, an thou darest, and meet me an thou fearest not.
+Then we will fight until one or the other of us tumble into the stream
+by dint of blows."
+
+"Marry, that meeteth my whole heart!" cried the stranger,
+twirling his staff above his head, betwixt his fingers and thumb,
+until it whistled again.
+
+Never did the Knights of Arthur's Round Table meet in a stouter
+fight than did these two.  In a moment Robin stepped quickly
+upon the bridge where the stranger stood; first he made a feint,
+and then delivered a blow at the stranger's head that, had it
+met its mark, would have tumbled him speedily into the water.
+But the stranger turned the blow right deftly and in return gave
+one as stout, which Robin also turned as the stranger had done.
+So they stood, each in his place, neither moving a finger's-breadth back,
+for one good hour, and many blows were given and received by each in
+that time, till here and there were sore bones and bumps, yet neither
+thought of crying "Enough," nor seemed likely to fall from off the bridge.
+Now and then they stopped to rest, and each thought that he never
+had seen in all his life before such a hand at quarterstaff.
+At last Robin gave the stranger a blow upon the ribs that made his jacket
+smoke like a damp straw thatch in the sun.  So shrewd was the stroke
+that the stranger came within a hair's-breadth of falling off the bridge,
+but he regained himself right quickly and, by a dexterous blow,
+gave Robin a crack on the crown that caused the blood to flow.
+Then Robin grew mad with anger and smote with all his might at the other.
+But the stranger warded the blow and once again thwacked Robin,
+and this time so fairly that he fell heels over head into the water,
+as the queen pin falls in a game of bowls.
+
+"And where art thou now, my good lad?" shouted the stranger,
+roaring with laughter.
+
+"Oh, in the flood and floating adown with the tide," cried Robin,
+nor could he forbear laughing himself at his sorry plight.
+Then, gaining his feet, he waded to the bank, the little fish
+speeding hither and thither, all frightened at his splashing.
+
+"Give me thy hand," cried he, when he had reached the bank.
+"I must needs own thou art a brave and a sturdy soul and, withal,
+a good stout stroke with the cudgels.  By this and by that,
+my head hummeth like to a hive of bees on a hot June day."
+
+Then he clapped his horn to his lips and winded a blast
+that went echoing sweetly down the forest paths.  "Ay, marry,"
+quoth he again, "thou art a tall lad, and eke a brave one,
+for ne'er, I bow, is there a man betwixt here and Canterbury Town
+could do the like to me that thou hast done."
+
+"And thou," quoth the stranger, laughing, "takest thy cudgeling
+like a brave heart and a stout yeoman."
+
+But now the distant twigs and branches rustled with the coming of men,
+and suddenly a score or two of good stout yeomen, all clad in Lincoln green,
+burst from out the covert, with merry Will Stutely at their head.
+
+"Good master," cried Will, "how is this?  Truly thou art all wet
+from head to foot, and that to the very skin."
+
+"Why, marry," answered jolly Robin, "yon stout fellow hath tumbled me
+neck and crop into the water and hath given me a drubbing beside."
+
+"Then shall he not go without a ducking and eke a drubbing himself!"
+cried Will Stutely.  "Have at him, lads!"
+
+Then Will and a score of yeomen leaped upon the stranger,
+but though they sprang quickly they found him ready and felt
+him strike right and left with his stout staff, so that,
+though he went down with press of numbers, some of them rubbed
+cracked crowns before he was overcome.
+
+"Nay, forbear!" cried Robin, laughing until his sore sides ached again.
+"He is a right good man and true, and no harm shall befall him.
+Now hark ye, good youth, wilt thou stay with me and be one of my band?
+Three suits of Lincoln green shalt thou have each year, beside forty
+marks in fee, and share with us whatsoever good shall befall us.
+Thou shalt eat sweet venison and quaff the stoutest ale, and mine own
+good right-hand man shalt thou be, for never did I see such a cudgel player
+in all my life before.  Speak!  Wilt thou be one of my good merry men?"
+
+"That know I not," quoth the stranger surlily, for he was angry at being
+so tumbled about.  "If ye handle yew bow and apple shaft no better than ye
+do oaken cudgel, I wot ye are not fit to be called yeomen in my country;
+but if there be any man here that can shoot a better shaft than I,
+then will I bethink me of joining with you."
+
+"Now by my faith," said Robin, "thou art a right saucy varlet, sirrah;
+yet I will stoop to thee as I never stooped to man before.
+Good Stutely, cut thou a fair white piece of bark four fingers
+in breadth, and set it fourscore yards distant on yonder oak.
+Now, stranger, hit that fairly with a gray goose shaft and call
+thyself an archer."
+
+"Ay, marry, that will I," answered he.  "Give me a good stout bow
+and a fair broad arrow, and if I hit it not, strip me and beat me
+blue with bowstrings."
+
+Then he chose the stoutest bow among them all, next to Robin's own,
+and a straight gray goose shaft, well-feathered and smooth,
+and stepping to the mark--while all the band, sitting or lying
+upon the greensward, watched to see him shoot--he drew the arrow
+to his cheek and loosed the shaft right deftly, sending it so
+straight down the path that it clove the mark in the very center.
+"Aha!" cried he, "mend thou that if thou canst"; while even
+the yeomen clapped their hands at so fair a shot.
+
+"That is a keen shot indeed," quoth Robin.  "Mend it I cannot,
+but mar it I may, perhaps."
+
+Then taking up his own good stout bow and nocking an arrow with care,
+he shot with his very greatest skill.  Straight flew the arrow, and so true
+that it lit fairly upon the stranger's shaft and split it into splinters.
+Then all the yeomen leaped to their feet and shouted for joy that their
+master had shot so well.
+
+"Now by the lusty yew bow of good Saint Withold," cried the stranger,
+"that is a shot indeed, and never saw I the like in all my life before!
+Now truly will I be thy man henceforth and for aye.  Good Adam Bell[1]
+was a fair shot, but never shot he so!"
+
+
+[1] Adam Bell, Clym o' the Clough, and William of Cloudesly
+were three noted north-country bowmen whose names have been
+celebrated in many ballads of the olden time.
+
+
+"Then have I gained a right good man this day," quoth jolly Robin.  "What name
+goest thou by, good fellow?"
+
+"Men call me John Little whence I came," answered the stranger.
+
+Then Will Stutely, who loved a good jest, spoke up.
+"Nay, fair little stranger," said he, "I like not thy name
+and fain would I have it otherwise.  Little art thou indeed,
+and small of bone and sinew, therefore shalt thou be christened
+Little John, and I will be thy godfather."
+
+Then Robin Hood and all his band laughed aloud until the stranger
+began to grow angry.
+
+"An thou make a jest of me," quoth he to Will Stutely, "thou wilt
+have sore bones and little pay, and that in short season."
+
+"Nay, good friend," said Robin Hood, "bottle thine anger,
+for the name fitteth thee well.  Little John shall thou
+be called henceforth, and Little John shall it be.
+So come, my merry men, we will prepare a christening feast
+for this fair infant."
+
+So turning their backs upon the stream, they plunged into the forest
+once more, through which they traced their steps till they reached
+the spot where they dwelled in the depths of the woodland.
+There had they built huts of bark and branches of trees, and made
+couches of sweet rushes spread over with skins of fallow deer.
+Here stood a great oak tree with branches spreading broadly around,
+beneath which was a seat of green moss where Robin Hood was wont
+to sit at feast and at merrymaking with his stout men about him.
+Here they found the rest of the band, some of whom had come in with
+a brace of fat does.  Then they all built great fires and after
+a time roasted the does and broached a barrel of humming ale.
+Then when the feast was ready they all sat down, but Robin placed
+Little John at his right hand, for he was henceforth to be the second
+in the band.
+
+Then when the feast was done Will Stutely spoke up.  "It is now time,
+I ween, to christen our bonny babe, is it not so, merry boys?"
+And "Aye!  Aye!" cried all, laughing till the woods echoed
+with their mirth.
+
+"Then seven sponsors shall we have," quoth Will Stutely,
+and hunting among all the band, he chose the seven stoutest
+men of them all.
+
+"Now by Saint Dunstan," cried Little John, springing to his feet,
+"more than one of you shall rue it an you lay finger upon me."
+
+But without a word they all ran upon him at once, seizing him by his
+legs and arms and holding him tightly in spite of his struggles,
+and they bore him forth while all stood around to see the sport.
+Then one came forward who had been chosen to play the priest because
+he had a bald crown, and in his hand he carried a brimming pot of ale.
+"Now, who bringeth this babe?" asked he right soberly.
+
+"That do I," answered Will Stutely.
+
+"And what name callest thou him?"
+
+"Little John call I him."
+
+"Now Little John," quoth the mock priest, "thou hast not lived heretofore, but
+only got thee along through the world, but henceforth thou wilt live indeed.
+When thou livedst not thou wast called John Little, but now that thou
+dost live indeed, Little John shalt thou be called, so christen I thee."
+And at these last words he emptied the pot of ale upon Little John's head.
+
+Then all shouted with laughter as they saw the good brown ale
+stream over Little John's beard and trickle from his nose
+and chin, while his eyes blinked with the smart of it.
+At first he was of a mind to be angry but found he could not,
+because the others were so merry; so he, too, laughed with the rest.
+Then Robin took this sweet, pretty babe, clothed him all anew
+from top to toe in Lincoln green, and gave him a good stout bow,
+and so made him a member of the merry band.
+
+And thus it was that Robin Hood became outlawed; thus a band
+of merry companions gathered about him, and thus he gained
+his right-hand man, Little John; and so the prologue ends.
+And now I will tell how the Sheriff of Nottingham three times
+sought to take Robin Hood, and how he failed each time.
+
+
+
+Robin Hood and the Tinker
+
+Now it was told before how two hundred pounds were set upon
+Robin Hood's head, and how the Sheriff of Nottingham swore that
+he himself would seize Robin, both because he would fain have the two
+hundred pounds and because the slain man was a kinsman of his own.
+Now the Sheriff did not yet know what a force Robin had about him
+in Sherwood, but thought that he might serve a warrant for his
+arrest as he could upon any other man that had broken the laws;
+therefore he offered fourscore golden angels to anyone who would
+serve this warrant.  But men of Nottingham Town knew more of
+Robin Hood and his doings than the Sheriff did, and many laughed
+to think of serving a warrant upon the bold outlaw, knowing well
+that all they would get for such service would be cracked crowns;
+so that no one came forward to take the matter in hand.
+Thus a fortnight passed, in which time none came forward to do
+the Sheriff's business.  Then said he, "A right good reward have
+I offered to whosoever would serve my warrant upon Robin Hood,
+and I marvel that no one has come to undertake the task."
+
+Then one of his men who was near him said, "Good master,
+thou wottest not the force that Robin Hood has about him
+and how little he cares for warrant of king or sheriff.
+Truly, no one likes to go on this service, for fear of cracked
+crowns and broken bones."
+
+"Then I hold all Nottingham men to be cowards," said the Sheriff.  "And let
+me see the man in all Nottinghamshire that dare disobey the warrant of our
+sovereign lord King Harry, for, by the shrine of Saint Edmund, I will hang him
+forty cubits high!  But if no man in Nottingham dare win fourscore angels,
+I will send elsewhere, for there should be men of mettle somewhere
+in this land."
+
+Then he called up a messenger in whom he placed great trust, and bade
+him saddle his horse and make ready to go to Lincoln Town to see whether
+he could find anyone there that would do his bidding and win the reward.
+So that same morning the messenger started forth upon his errand.
+
+Bright shone the sun upon the dusty highway that led from Nottingham
+to Lincoln, stretching away all white over hill and dale.
+Dusty was the highway and dusty the throat of the messenger,
+so that his heart was glad when he saw before him the Sign of the
+Blue Boar Inn, when somewhat more than half his journey was done.
+The inn looked fair to his eyes, and the shade of the oak trees
+that stood around it seemed cool and pleasant, so he alighted
+from his horse to rest himself for a time, calling for a pot
+of ale to refresh his thirsty throat.
+
+There he saw a party of right jovial fellows seated beneath
+the spreading oak that shaded the greensward in front of the door.
+There was a tinker, two barefoot friars, and a party of six of the King's
+foresters all clad in Lincoln green, and all of them were quaffing
+humming ale and singing merry ballads of the good old times.
+Loud laughed the foresters, as jests were bandied about between
+the singing, and louder laughed the friars, for they were lusty men
+with beards that curled like the wool of black rams; but loudest of all
+laughed the Tinker, and he sang more sweetly than any of the rest.
+His bag and his hammer hung upon a twig of the oak tree, and near
+by leaned his good stout cudgel, as thick as his wrist and knotted
+at the end.
+
+"Come," cried one of the foresters to the tired messenger,
+"come join us for this shot.  Ho, landlord!  Bring a fresh pot
+of ale for each man.
+
+The messenger was glad enough to sit down along with the others
+who were there, for his limbs were weary and the ale was good.
+
+"Now what news bearest thou so fast?" quoth one, "and whither
+ridest thou today?"
+
+The messenger was a chatty soul and loved a bit of
+gossip dearly; besides, the pot of ale warmed his heart;
+so that, settling himself in an easy corner of the inn bench,
+while the host leaned upon the doorway and the hostess stood
+with her hands beneath her apron, he unfolded his budget
+of news with great comfort.  He told all from the very first:
+how Robin Hood had slain the forester, and how he had hidden
+in the greenwood to escape the law; how that he lived therein,
+all against the law, God wot, slaying His Majesty's deer and
+levying toll on fat abbot, knight, and esquire, so that none dare
+travel even on broad Watling Street or the Fosse Way for fear
+
+
+of him; how that the Sheriff had a mind to serve the King's warrant
+upon this same rogue, though little would he mind warrant of either
+king or sheriff, for he was far from being a law-abiding man.
+Then he told how none could be found in all Nottingham Town
+to serve this warrant, for fear of cracked pates and broken bones,
+and how that he, the messenger, was now upon his way to Lincoln Town
+to find of what mettle the Lincoln men might be.
+
+"Now come I, forsooth, from good Banbury Town," said the jolly Tinker,
+"and no one nigh Nottingham--nor Sherwood either, an that be the mark--
+can hold cudgel with my grip.  Why, lads, did I not meet that mad wag
+Simon of Ely, even at the famous fair at Hertford Town, and beat him
+in the ring at that place before Sir Robert of Leslie and his lady?
+This same Robin Hood, of whom, I wot, I never heard before,
+is a right merry blade, but gin he be strong, am not I stronger?
+And gin he be sly, am not I slyer?  Now by the bright eyes of Nan o'
+the Mill, and by mine own name and that's Wat o' the Crabstaff,
+and by mine own mother's son, and that's myself, will I, even I, Wat o'
+the Crabstaff, meet this same sturdy rogue, and gin he mind not
+the seal of our glorious sovereign King Harry, and the warrant
+of the good Sheriff of Nottinghamshire, I will so bruise, beat,
+and bemaul his pate that he shall never move finger or toe again!
+Hear ye that, bully boys?"
+
+"Now art thou the man for my farthing," cried the messenger.
+"And back thou goest with me to Nottingham Town."
+
+"Nay," quoth the Tinker, shaking his head slowly from side to side.
+"Go I with no man gin it be not with mine own free will."
+
+"Nay, nay," said the messenger, "no man is there in Nottinghamshire
+could make thee go against thy will, thou brave fellow."
+
+"Ay, that be I brave," said the Tinker.
+
+"Ay, marry," said the messenger, "thou art a brave lad;
+but our good Sheriff hath offered fourscore angels of bright
+gold to whosoever shall serve the warrant upon Robin Hood;
+though little good will it do."
+
+"Then I will go with thee, lad.  Do but wait till I get my bag and hammer,
+and my cudgel.  Ay, let' me but meet this same Robin Hood, and let me
+see whether he will not mind the King's warrant."  So, after having paid
+their score, the messenger, with the Tinker striding beside his nag,
+started back to Nottingham again.
+
+One bright morning soon after this time, Robin Hood started
+off to Nottingham Town to find what was a-doing there,
+walking merrily along the roadside where the grass was sweet
+with daisies, his eyes wandering and his thoughts also.
+His bugle horn hung at his hip and his bow and arrows at
+his back, while in his hand he bore a good stout oaken staff,
+which he twirled with his fingers as he strolled along.
+
+As thus he walked down a shady lane he saw a tinker coming, trolling a
+merry song as he drew nigh.  On his back hung his bag and his hammer,
+and in his hand he carried a right stout crabstaff full six feet long,
+and thus sang he:
+ "_In peascod time, when hound to horn
+     Gives ear till buck be killed,
+ And little lads with pipes of corn
+     Sit keeping beasts afield_--"
+
+
+"Halloa, good friend!" cried Robin.
+
+"I WENT TO GATHER STRAWBERRIES--"
+
+
+"Halloa!" cried Robin again.
+
+"BY WOODS AND GROVES FULL FAIR--"
+
+
+"Halloa!  Art thou deaf, man?  Good friend, say I!"
+
+"And who art thou dost so boldly check a fair song?" quoth the Tinker,
+stopping in his singing.  "Halloa, shine own self, whether thou
+be good friend or no.  But let me tell thee, thou stout fellow,
+gin thou be a good friend it were well for us both; but gin thou
+be no good friend it were ill for thee."
+
+"And whence comest thou, my lusty blade?" quoth Robin.
+
+"I come from Banbury," answered the Tinker.
+
+"Alas!" quoth Robin, "I hear there is sad news this merry morn."
+
+"Ha!  Is it indeed so?" cried the Tinker eagerly.
+"Prythee tell it speedily, for I am a tinker by trade,
+as thou seest, and as I am in my trade I am greedy for news,
+even as a priest is greedy for farthings."
+
+"Well then," quoth Robin, "list thou and I will tell, but bear
+thyself up bravely, for the news is sad, I wot.  Thus it is:
+I hear that two tinkers are in the stocks for drinking
+ale and beer!"
+
+"Now a murrain seize thee and thy news, thou scurvy dog,"
+quoth the Tinker, "for thou speakest but ill of good men.
+But sad news it is indeed, gin there be two stout fellows
+in the stocks."
+
+"Nay," said Robin, "thou hast missed the mark and dost but weep
+for the wrong sow.  The sadness of the news lieth in that there be
+but two in the stocks, for the others do roam the country at large."
+
+"Now by the pewter platter of Saint Dunstan," cried the Tinker, "I have
+a good part of a mind to baste thy hide for thine ill jest.
+But gin men be put in the stocks for drinking ale and beer,
+I trow thou wouldst not lose thy part."
+
+Loud laughed Robin and cried, "Now well taken, Tinker, well taken!
+Why, thy wits are like beer, and do froth up most when they grow sour!
+But right art thou, man, for I love ale and beer right well.
+Therefore come straightway with me hard by to the Sign of the Blue Boar,
+and if thou drinkest as thou appearest--and I wot thou wilt not belie
+thy looks--I will drench thy throat with as good homebrewed as ever
+was tapped in all broad Nottinghamshire."
+
+"Now by my faith," said the Tinker, "thou art a right good fellow
+in spite of thy scurvy jests.  I love thee, my sweet chuck,
+and gin I go not with thee to that same Blue Boar thou mayst
+call me a heathen."
+
+"Tell me thy news, good friend, I prythee," quoth Robin as they
+trudged along together, "for tinkers, I ween, are all as full
+of news as an egg of meat."
+
+"Now I love thee as my brother, my bully blade," said the Tinker,
+"else I would not tell thee my news; for sly am I, man, and I
+have in hand a grave undertaking that doth call for all my wits,
+for I come to seek a bold outlaw that men, hereabouts, call
+Robin Hood.  Within my pouch I have a warrant, all fairly written out
+on parchment, forsooth, with a great red seal for to make it lawful.
+Could I but meet this same Robin Hood I would serve it upon his
+dainty body, and if he minded it not I would beat him till every
+one of his ribs would cry Amen.  But thou livest hereabouts,
+mayhap thou knowest Robin Hood thyself, good fellow."
+
+"Ay, marry, that I do somewhat," quoth Robin, "and I have seen him this
+very morn.  But, Tinker, men say that he is but a sad, sly thief.
+Thou hadst better watch thy warrant, man, or else he may steal it
+out of thy very pouch."
+
+"Let him but try!" cried the Tinker.  "Sly may he be,
+but sly am I, too.  I would I had him here now, man to man!"
+And he made his heavy cudgel to spin again.  "But what manner
+of man is he, lad?
+
+"Much like myself," said Robin, laughing, "and in height and build
+and age nigh the same; and he hath blue eyes, too."
+
+"Nay," quoth the Tinker, "thou art but a green youth.
+I thought him to be a great bearded man.  Nottingham men
+feared him so."
+
+"Truly, he is not so old nor so stout as thou art," said Robin.  "But men
+do call him a right deft hand at quarterstaff."
+
+"That may be," said the Tinker right sturdily, "but I am more
+deft than he, for did I not overcome Simon of Ely in a fair
+bout in the ring at Hertford Town?  But if thou knowest him,
+my jolly blade, wilt thou go with me and bring me to him?
+Fourscore bright angels hath the Sheriff promised me if I serve
+the warrant upon the knave's body, and ten of them will I give
+to thee if thou showest me him."
+
+"Ay, that will I," quoth Robin, "but show me thy warrant, man, until I
+see whether it be good or no."
+
+"That will I not do, even to mine own brother," answered the Tinker.  "No man
+shall see my warrant till I serve it upon yon fellow's own body."
+
+"So be it," quoth Robin.  "And thou show it not to me I know not to whom
+thou wilt show it.  But here we are at the Sign of the Blue Boar,
+so let us in and taste his brown October."
+
+No sweeter inn could be found in all Nottinghamshire than that
+of the Blue Boar.  None had such lovely trees standing around,
+or was so covered with trailing clematis and sweet woodbine;
+none had such good beer and such humming ale; nor, in wintertime,
+when the north wind howled and snow drifted around the hedges,
+was there to be found, elsewhere, such a roaring fire as blazed upon
+the hearth of the Blue Boar.  At such times might be found a goodly
+company of yeomen or country folk seated around the blazing hearth,
+bandying merry jests, while roasted crabs[2] bobbed in bowls
+of ale upon the hearthstone.  Well known was the inn to Robin Hood
+and his band, for there had he and such merry companions
+as Little John or Will Stutely or young David of Doncaster
+often gathered when all the forest was filled with snow.
+As for mine host, he knew how to keep a still tongue in his head,
+and to swallow his words before they passed his teeth, for he knew
+very well which side of his bread was spread with butter,
+for Robin and his band were the best of customers and paid
+their scores without having them chalked up behind the door.
+So now, when Robin Hood and the Tinker came thereto and called
+aloud for two great pots of ale, none would have known from look
+or speech that the host had ever set eyes upon the outlaw before.
+
+
+[2] Small sour apples.
+
+
+
+"Bide thou here," quoth Robin to the Tinker, "while I go
+and see that mine host draweth ale from the right butt,
+for he hath good October, I know, and that brewed by Withold
+of Tamworth."  So saying, he went within and whispered to the host
+to add a measure of Flemish strong waters to the good English ale;
+which the latter did and brought it to them.
+
+"By Our Lady," said the Tinker, after a long draught of the ale,
+"yon same Withold of Tamworth--a right good Saxon name, too, I would
+have thee know--breweth the most humming ale that e'er passed the lips
+of Wat o' the Crabstaff."
+
+"Drink, man, drink," cried Robin, only wetting his own lips meanwhile.
+"Ho, landlord!  Bring my friend another pot of the same.
+And now for a song, my jolly blade."
+
+"Ay, that will I give thee a song, my lovely fellow,"
+quoth the Tinker, "for I never tasted such ale in all my days before.
+By Our Lady, it doth make my head hum even now!  Hey, Dame Hostess,
+come listen, an thou wouldst hear a song, and thou too,
+thou bonny lass, for never sing I so well as when bright eyes
+do look upon me the while."
+
+Then he sang an ancient ballad of the time of good King Arthur,
+called "The Marriage of Sir Gawaine," which you may some time read yourself,
+in stout English of early times; and as he sang, all listened
+to that noble tale of noble knight and his sacrifice to his king.
+But long before the Tinker came to the last verse his tongue began to trip
+and his head to spin, because of the strong waters mixed with the ale.
+First his tongue tripped, then it grew thick of sound; then his head
+wagged from side to side, until at last he fell asleep as though
+he never would waken again.
+
+Then Robin Hood laughed aloud and quickly took the warrant
+from out the Tinker's pouch with his deft fingers.
+"Sly art thou, Tinker," quoth he, "but not yet, I bow,
+art thou as sly as that same sly thief Robin Hood."
+
+Then he called the host to him and said, "Here, good man, are ten
+broad shillings for the entertainment thou hast given us this day.
+See that thou takest good care of thy fair guest there, and when he wakes
+thou mayst again charge him ten shillings also, and if he hath it not,
+thou mayst take his bag and hammer, and even his coat, in payment.
+Thus do I punish those that come into the greenwood to deal dole to me.
+As for thine own self, never knew I landlord yet that would not charge
+twice an he could."
+
+At this the host smiled slyly, as though saying to himself the rustic saw,
+"Teach a magpie to suck eggs."
+
+The Tinker slept until the afternoon drew to a close and
+the shadows grew long beside the woodland edge, then he awoke.
+First he looked up, then he looked down, then he
+
+
+looked east, then he looked west, for he was gathering his
+wits together, like barley straws blown apart by the wind.
+First he thought of his merry companion, but he was gone.
+Then he thought of his stout crabstaff, and that he had within
+his hand.  Then of his warrant, and of the fourscore angels
+he was to gain for serving it upon Robin Hood.  He thrust his
+hand into his pouch, but not a scrap nor a farthing was there.
+Then he sprang to his feet in a rage.
+
+"Ho, landlord!" cried he, "whither hath that knave gone that was
+with me but now?"
+
+"What knave meaneth Your Worship?" quoth the landlord, calling the
+Tinker Worship to soothe him, as a man would pour oil upon angry water.
+"I saw no knave with Your Worship, for I swear no man would dare call
+that man knave so nigh to Sherwood Forest.  A right stout yeoman I
+saw with Your Worship, but I thought that Your Worship knew him,
+for few there be about here that pass him by and know him not."
+
+"Now, how should I, that ne'er have squealed in your sty,
+know all the swine therein?  Who was he, then, an thou knowest
+him so well?"
+
+"Why, yon same is a right stout fellow whom men hereabouts do call
+Robin Hood, which same--"
+
+"Now, by'r Lady!" cried the Tinker hastily, and in a deep voice
+like an angry bull, "thou didst see me come into thine inn, I,
+a staunch, honest craftsman, and never told me who my company was,
+well knowing thine own self who he was.  Now, I have a right
+round piece of a mind to crack thy knave's pate for thee!"
+Then he took up his cudgel and looked at the landlord as though
+he would smite him where he stood.
+
+"Nay," cried the host, throwing up his elbow, for he feared the blow,
+"how knew I that thou knewest him not?"
+
+"Well and truly thankful mayst thou be," quoth the Tinker, "that I
+be a patient man and so do spare thy bald crown, else wouldst
+thou ne'er cheat customer again.  But as for this same knave
+Robin Hood, I go straightway to seek him, and if I do not score
+his knave's pate, cut my staff into fagots and call me woman."
+So saying, he gathered himself together to depart.
+
+"Nay," quoth the landlord, standing in front of him and holding out
+his arms like a gooseherd driving his flock, for money made him bold,
+"thou goest not till thou hast paid me my score."
+
+"But did not he pay thee?"
+
+"Not so much as one farthing; and ten good shillings' worth of ale have
+ye drunk this day.  Nay, I say, thou goest not away without paying me,
+else shall our good Sheriff know of it."
+
+"But nought have I to pay thee with, good fellow," quoth the Tinker.
+
+" `Good fellow' not me," said the landlord.
+"Good fellow am I not when it cometh to lose ten shillings!
+Pay me that thou owest me in broad money, or else leave
+thy coat and bag and hammer; yet, I wot they are not worth
+ten shillings, and I shall lose thereby.  Nay, an thou stirrest,
+I have a great dog within and I will loose him upon thee.
+Maken, open thou the door and let forth Brian if this fellow
+stirs one step."
+
+"Nay," quoth the Tinker--for, by roaming the country,
+he had learned what dogs were--"take thou what thou wilt have,
+and let me depart in peace, and may a murrain go with thee.
+But oh, landlord!  An I catch yon scurvy varlet, I swear he shall
+pay full with usury for that he hath had!"
+
+So saying, he strode away toward the forest, talking to himself,
+while the landlord and his worthy dame and Maken stood looking after him,
+and laughed when he had fairly gone.
+
+"Robin and I stripped yon ass of his pack main neatly,"
+quoth the landlord.
+
+Now it happened about this time that Robin Hood was going
+through the forest to Fosse Way, to see what was to be
+seen there, for the moon was full and the night gave promise
+of being bright.  In his hand he carried his stout oaken staff,
+and at his side hung his bugle horn.  As thus he walked up
+a forest path, whistling, down another path came the Tinker,
+muttering to himself and shaking his head like an angry bull;
+and so, at a sudden bend, they met sharply face to face.
+Each stood still for a time, and then Robin spoke:
+
+"Halloa, my sweet bird," said he, laughing merrily, "how likest
+thou thine ale?  Wilt not sing to me another song?"
+
+The Tinker said nothing at first but stood looking at Robin with a grim face.
+"Now," quoth he at last, "I am right glad I have met thee, and if I do not
+rattle thy bones within thy hide this day, I give thee leave to put thy foot
+upon my neck."
+
+"With all my heart," cried merry Robin.  "Rattle my bones, an thou canst."
+So saying, he gripped his staff and threw himself upon his guard.
+Then the Tinker spat upon his hands and, grasping his staff,
+came straight at the other.  He struck two or three blows, but soon
+found that he had met his match, for Robin warded and parried all
+of them, and, before the Tinker thought, he gave him a rap upon
+the ribs in return.  At this Robin laughed aloud, and the Tinker grew
+more angry than ever, and smote again with all his might and main.
+Again Robin warded two of the strokes, but at the third, his staff
+broke beneath the mighty blows of the Tinker.  "Now, ill betide thee,
+traitor staff," cried Robin, as it fell from his hands; "a foul stick
+art thou to serve me thus in mine hour of need."
+
+"Now yield thee," quoth the Tinker, "for thou art my captive;
+and if thou do not, I will beat thy pate to a pudding."
+
+To this Robin Hood made no answer, but, clapping his horn to his lips,
+he blew three blasts, loud and clear.
+
+"Ay," quoth the Tinker, "blow thou mayest, but go thou must with me
+to Nottingham Town, for the Sheriff would fain see thee there.
+Now wilt thou yield thee, or shall I have to break thy pretty head?"
+
+"An I must drink sour ale, I must," quoth Robin, "but never
+have I yielded me to man before, and that without wound or mark
+upon my body.  Nor, when I bethink me, will I yield now.
+Ho, my merry men!  Come quickly!"
+
+Then from out the forest leaped Little John and six stout yeomen clad
+in Lincoln green.
+
+"How now, good master," cried Little John, "what need hast thou
+that thou dost wind thy horn so loudly?"
+
+"There stands a tinker," quoth Robin, "that would fain take me to Nottingham,
+there to hang upon the gallows tree."
+
+"Then shall he himself hang forthwith," cried Little John,
+and he and the others made at the Tinker, to seize him.
+
+"Nay, touch him not," said Robin, "for a right stout man is he.
+A metal man he is by trade, and a mettled man by nature; moreover, he doth
+sing a lovely ballad.  Say, good fellow, wilt thou join my merry men all?
+Three suits of Lincoln green shalt thou have a year, besides forty
+marks in fee; thou shalt share all with us and lead a right merry life
+in the greenwood; for cares have we not, and misfortune cometh not upon
+us within the sweet shades of Sherwood, where we shoot the dun deer
+and feed upon venison and sweet oaten cakes, and curds and honey.
+Wilt thou come with me?"
+
+"Ay, marry, will I join with you all," quoth the Tinker,
+"for I love a merry life, and I love thee, good master,
+though thou didst thwack my ribs and cheat me into the bargain.
+Fain am I to own thou art both a stouter and a slyer man than I;
+so I will obey thee and be thine own true servant."
+
+So all turned their steps to the forest depths, where the Tinker
+was to live henceforth.  For many a day he sang ballads
+to the band, until the famous Allan a Dale joined them,
+before whose sweet voice all others seemed as harsh as a raven's;
+but of him we will learn hereafter.
+
+
+
+The Shooting Match at Nottingham Town
+
+THEN THE SHERIFF was very wroth because of this failure to take
+jolly Robin, for it came to his ears, as ill news always does,
+that the people laughed at him and made a jest of his thinking
+to serve a warrant upon such a one as the bold outlaw.
+And a man hates nothing so much as being made a jest of; so he said:
+"Our gracious lord and sovereign King himself shall know of this,
+and how his laws are perverted and despised by this band of rebel outlaws.
+As for yon traitor Tinker, him will I hang, if I catch him,
+upon the very highest gallows tree in all Nottinghamshire."
+
+Then he bade all his servants and retainers to make ready to go
+to London Town, to see and speak with the King.
+
+At this there was bustling at the Sheriff's castle, and men
+ran hither and thither upon this business and upon that,
+while the forge fires of Nottingham glowed red far into the night
+like twinkling stars, for all the smiths of the town were busy
+making or mending armor for the Sheriff's troop of escort.
+For two days this labor lasted, then, on the third, all was ready
+for the journey.  So forth they started in the bright sunlight,
+from Nottingham Town to Fosse Way and thence to Watling Street;
+and so they journeyed for two days, until they saw at last
+the spires and towers of great London Town; and many folks stopped,
+as they journeyed along, and gazed at the show they made
+riding along the highways with their flashing armor and gay
+plumes and trappings.
+
+In London King Henry and his fair Queen Eleanor held their court,
+gay with ladies in silks and satins and velvets and cloth of gold,
+and also brave knights and gallant courtiers.
+
+Thither came the Sheriff and was shown into the King's presence.
+
+"A boon, a boon," quoth he, as he knelt upon the ground.
+
+"Now what wouldst thou have?" said the King.  "Let us hear
+what may be thy desires."
+
+"O good my Lord and Sovereign," spake the Sheriff, "in Sherwood Forest
+in our own good shire of Nottingham, liveth a bold outlaw whose name
+is Robin Hood."
+
+"In good sooth," said the King, "his doings have reached even our own
+royal ears.  He is a saucy, rebellious varlet, yet, I am fain to own,
+a right merry soul withal."
+
+"But hearken, O my most gracious Sovereign," said the Sheriff.  "I sent
+a warrant to him with thine own royal seal attached, by a right
+lusty knave, but he beat the messenger and stole the warrant.
+And he killeth thy deer and robbeth thine own liege subjects even upon
+the great highways."
+
+"Why, how now," quoth the King wrathfully.  "What wouldst thou have me do?
+Comest thou not to me with a great array of men-at-arms and retainers,
+and yet art not able to take a single band of lusty knaves without armor
+on breast, in thine own county!  What wouldst thou have me do?  Art thou
+not my Sheriff?  Are not my laws in force in Nottinghamshire?  Canst thou
+not take thine own course against those that break the laws or do any
+injury to thee or thine?  Go, get thee gone, and think well; devise some
+plan of thine own, but trouble me no further.  But look well to it,
+Master Sheriff, for I will have my laws obeyed by all men within my kingdom,
+and if thou art not able to enforce them thou art no sheriff for me.
+So look well to thyself, I say, or ill may befall thee as well as all
+the thieving knaves in Nottinghamshire.  When the flood cometh it sweepeth
+away grain as well as chaff."
+
+Then the Sheriff turned away with a sore and troubled heart,
+and sadly he rued his fine show of retainers, for he saw that
+the King was angry because he had so many men about him and yet
+could not enforce the laws.  So, as they all rode slowly back
+to Nottingham, the Sheriff was thoughtful and full of care.
+Not a word did he speak to anyone, and no one of his men
+spoke to him, but all the time he was busy devising some plan
+to take Robin Hood.
+
+"Aha!" cried he suddenly, smiting his hand upon his thigh "I have it now!
+Ride on, my merry men all, and let us get back to Nottingham Town as speedily
+as we may.  And mark well my words:  before a fortnight is passed, that evil
+knave Robin Hood will be safely clapped into Nottingham gaol."
+
+But what was the Sheriff's plan?
+
+As a usurer takes each one of a bag of silver angels, feeling each coin
+to find whether it be clipped or not, so the Sheriff, as all rode slowly
+and sadly back toward Nottingham, took up thought after thought in turn,
+feeling around the edges of each but finding in every one some flaw.
+At last he thought of the daring soul of jolly Robin and how, as he the
+Sheriff knew, he often came even within the walls of Nottingham.
+
+"Now," thought the Sheriff, "could I but persuade Robin nigh
+to Nottingham Town so that I could find him, I warrant I would lay
+hands upon him so stoutly that he would never get away again."
+Then of a sudden it came to him like a flash that were he to
+proclaim a great shooting match and offer some grand prize,
+Robin Hood might be overpersuaded by his spirit to come to the butts;
+and it was this thought which caused him to cry "Aha!" and smite
+his palm upon his thigh.
+
+So, as soon as he had returned safely to Nottingham, he sent
+messengers north and south, and east and west, to proclaim
+through town, hamlet, and countryside, this grand shooting match,
+and everyone was bidden that could draw a longbow, and the prize
+was to be an arrow of pure beaten gold.
+
+When Robin Hood first heard the news of this he was in Lincoln Town,
+and hastening back to Sherwood Forest he soon called all his merry
+men about him and spoke to them thus:
+
+"Now hearken, my merry men all, to the news that I have brought from
+Lincoln Town today.  Our friend the Sheriff of Nottingham hath proclaimed
+a shooting match, and hath sent messengers to tell of it through
+all the countryside, and the prize is to be a bright golden arrow.
+Now I fain would have one of us win it, both because of the fairness
+of the prize and because our sweet friend the Sheriff hath offered it.
+So we will take our bows and shafts and go there to shoot, for I know
+right well that merriment will be a-going. What say ye, lads?"
+
+Then young David of Doncaster spoke up and said, "Now listen, I pray thee,
+good master, unto what I say.  I have come straight from our friend Eadom o'
+the Blue Boar, and there I heard the full news of this same match.
+But, master, I know from him, and he got it from the Sheriff's man Ralph o'
+the Scar, that this same knavish Sheriff hath but laid a trap for thee
+in this shooting match and wishes nothing so much as to see thee there.
+So go not, good master, for I know right well he doth seek to beguile thee,
+but stay within the greenwood lest we all meet dole and woe."
+
+"Now," quoth Robin, "thou art a wise lad and keepest thine ears
+open and thy mouth shut, as becometh a wise and crafty woodsman.
+But shall we let it be said that the Sheriff of Nottingham
+did cow bold Robin Hood and sevenscore as fair archers as are
+in all merry England?  Nay, good David, what thou tellest me
+maketh me to desire the prize even more than I else should do.
+But what sayeth our good gossip Swanthold?  Is it not `A hasty man
+burneth his mouth, and the fool that keepeth his eyes shut falleth
+into the pit'? Thus he says, truly, therefore we must meet guile
+with guile.  Now some of you clothe yourselves as curtal friars,
+and some as rustic peasants, and some as tinkers, or as beggars,
+but see that each man taketh a good bow or broadsword, in case
+need should arise.  As for myself, I will shoot for this same
+golden arrow, and should I win it, we will hang it to the branches
+of our good greenwood tree for the joy of all the band.
+How like you the plan, my merry men all?"
+
+Then "Good, good!" cried all the band right heartily.
+
+A fair sight was Nottingham Town on the day of the shooting match.
+All along upon the green meadow beneath the town wall stretched
+a row of benches, one above the other, which were for knight
+and lady, squire and dame, and rich burghers and their wives;
+for none but those of rank and quality were to sit there.
+At the end of the range, near the target, was a raised seat bedecked
+with ribbons and scarfs and garlands of flowers, for the Sheriff
+of Nottingham and his dame.  The range was twoscore paces broad.
+At one end stood the target, at the other a tent of striped canvas,
+from the pole of which fluttered many-colored flags and streamers.
+In this booth were casks of ale, free to be broached by any
+of the archers who might wish to quench their thirst.
+
+Across the range from where the seats for the better folk
+were raised was a railing to keep the poorer people from
+crowding in front of the target.  Already, while it was early,
+the benches were beginning to fill with people of quality, who kept
+constantly arriving in little carts or upon palfreys that curveted
+gaily to the merry tinkle of silver bells at bridle reins.
+With these came also the poorer folk, who sat or lay upon the green
+grass near the railing that kept them from off the range.
+In the great tent the archers were gathering by twos and threes;
+some talking loudly of the fair shots each man had made
+in his day; some looking well to their bows, drawing a string
+betwixt the fingers to see that there was no fray upon it,
+or inspecting arrows, shutting one eye and peering down a shaft
+to see that it was not warped, but straight and true, for neither
+bow nor shaft should fail at such a time and for such a prize.
+And never was such a company of yeomen as were gathered
+at Nottingham Town that day, for the very best archers
+of merry England had come to this shooting match.
+There was Gill o' the Red Cap, the Sheriff's own head archer,
+and Diccon Cruikshank of Lincoln Town, and Adam o' the Dell,
+a man of Tamworth, of threescore years and more, yet hale
+and lusty still, who in his time had shot in the famous match
+at Woodstock, and had there beaten that renowned archer, Clym o'
+the Clough.  And many more famous men of the longbow were there,
+whose names have been handed down to us in goodly ballads
+of the olden time.
+
+But now all the benches were filled with guests, lord and lady,
+burgher and dame, when at last the Sheriff himself came with his lady,
+he riding with stately mien upon his milk-white horse and she
+upon her brown filly.  Upon his head he wore a purple velvet cap,
+and purple velvet was his robe, all trimmed about with rich ermine;
+his jerkin and hose were of sea-green silk, and his shoes
+of black velvet, the pointed toes fastened to his garters
+with golden chains.  A golden chain hung about his neck,
+and at his collar was a great carbuncle set in red gold.
+His lady was dressed in blue velvet, all trimmed with swan's down.
+So they made a gallant sight as they rode along side by side,
+and all the people shouted from where they crowded across
+the space from the gentlefolk; so the Sheriff and his lady came
+to their place, where men-at-arms, with hauberk and spear,
+stood about, waiting for them.
+
+Then when the Sheriff and his dame had sat down, he bade his herald wind
+upon his silver horn; who thereupon sounded three blasts that came echoing
+cheerily back from the gray walls of Nottingham.  Then the archers stepped
+forth to their places, while all the folks shouted with a mighty voice,
+each man calling upon his favorite yeoman.  "Red Cap!" cried some;
+"Cruikshank!" cried others; "Hey for William o' Leslie!" shouted others
+yet again; while ladies waved silken scarfs to urge each yeoman to
+do his best.
+
+Then the herald stood forth and loudly proclaimed the rules
+of the game as follows:
+
+"Shoot each man from yon mark, which is sevenscore yards and ten from
+the target.  One arrow shooteth each man first, and from all the archers
+shall the ten that shooteth the fairest shafts be chosen for to shoot again.
+Two arrows shooteth each man of these ten, then shall the three that shoot
+the fairest shafts be chosen for to shoot again.  Three arrows shooteth
+each man of those three, and to him that shooteth the fairest shafts shall
+the prize be given."
+
+Then the Sheriff leaned forward, looking keenly among the press
+of archers to find whether Robin Hood was among them; but no one was
+there clad in Lincoln green, such as was worn by Robin and his band.
+"Nevertheless," said the Sheriff to himself, "he may still
+be there, and I miss him among the crowd of other men.
+But let me see when but ten men shoot, for I wot he will be among
+the ten, or I know him not."
+
+And now the archers shot, each man in turn, and the good folk never saw
+such archery as was done that day.  Six arrows were within the clout,
+four within the black, and only two smote the outer ring; so that when
+the last arrow sped and struck the target, all the people shouted aloud,
+for it was noble shooting.
+
+And now but ten men were left of all those that had shot before,
+and of these ten, six were famous throughout the land, and most
+of the folk gathered there knew them.  These six men were Gilbert o'
+the Red Cap, Adam o' the Dell, Diccon Cruikshank, William o'
+Leslie, Hubert o' Cloud, and Swithin o' Hertford.  Two others were
+yeomen of merry Yorkshire, another was a tall stranger in blue,
+who said he came from London Town, and the last was a tattered
+stranger in scarlet, who wore a patch over one eye.
+
+"Now," quoth the Sheriff to a man-at-arms who stood near him,
+"seest thou Robin Hood among those ten?"
+
+"Nay, that do I not, Your Worship," answered the man.
+"Six of them I know right well.  Of those Yorkshire yeomen,
+one is too tall and the other too short for that bold knave.
+Robin's beard is as yellow as gold, while yon tattered beggar
+in scarlet hath a beard of brown, besides being blind of one eye.
+As for the stranger in blue, Robin's shoulders, I ween,
+are three inches broader than his."
+
+"Then," quoth the Sheriff, smiting his thigh angrily, "yon knave
+is a coward as well as a rogue, and dares not show his face among
+good men and true."
+
+Then, after they had rested a short time, those ten stout men stepped
+forth to shoot again.  Each man shot two arrows, and as they shot,
+not a word was spoken, but all the crowd watched with scarce a breath
+of sound; but when the last had shot his arrow another great shout arose,
+while many cast their caps aloft for joy of such marvelous shooting.
+
+"Now by our gracious Lady fair," quoth old Sir Amyas o'
+the Dell, who, bowed with fourscore years and more, sat near
+the Sheriff, "ne'er saw I such archery in all my life before,
+yet have I seen the best hands at the longbow for threescore
+years and more."
+
+And now but three men were left of all those that had shot before.
+One was Gill o' the Red Cap, one the tattered stranger in scarlet,
+and one Adam o' the Dell of Tamworth Town.  Then all the people
+called aloud, some crying, "Ho for Gilbert o' the Red Cap!"
+and some, "Hey for stout Adam o' Tamworth!"  But not a single
+man in the crowd called upon the stranger in scarlet.
+
+"Now, shoot thou well, Gilbert," cried the Sheriff, "and if thine
+be the best shaft, fivescore broad silver pennies will I give
+to thee beside the prize."
+
+"Truly I will do my best," quoth Gilbert right sturdily.
+"A man cannot do aught but his best, but that will I strive
+to do this day."  So saying, he drew forth a fair smooth arrow
+with a broad feather and fitted it deftly to the string,
+then drawing his bow with care he sped the shaft.
+Straight flew the arrow and lit fairly in the clout,
+a finger's-breadth from the center.  "A Gilbert, a Gilbert!"
+shouted all the crowd; and, "Now, by my faith," cried the Sheriff,
+smiting his hands together, "that is a shrewd shot."
+
+Then the tattered stranger stepped forth, and all the people laughed
+as they saw a yellow patch that showed beneath his arm when he raised
+his elbow to shoot, and also to see him aim with but one eye.
+He drew the good yew bow quickly, and quickly loosed a shaft;
+so short was the time that no man could draw a breath betwixt
+the drawing and the shooting; yet his arrow lodged nearer the center
+than the other by twice the length of a barleycorn.
+
+"Now by all the saints in Paradise!" cried the Sheriff,
+"that is a lovely shaft in very truth!"
+
+Then Adam o' the Dell shot, carefully and cautiously, and his
+arrow lodged close beside the stranger's. Then after a short
+space they all three shot again, and once more each arrow lodged
+within the clout, but this time Adam o' the Dell's was farthest
+from the center, and again the tattered stranger's shot was
+the best.  Then, after another time of rest, they all shot for
+the third time.  This time Gilbert took great heed to his aim,
+keenly measuring the distance and shooting with shrewdest care.
+Straight flew the arrow, and all shouted till the very flags
+that waved in the breeze shook with the sound, and the rooks
+and daws flew clamoring about the roofs of the old gray tower,
+for the shaft had lodged close beside the spot that marked
+the very center.
+
+"Well done, Gilbert!" cried the Sheriff right joyously.
+"Fain am I to believe the prize is thine, and right fairly won.
+Now, thou ragged knave, let me see thee shoot a better
+shaft than that."
+
+Nought spake the stranger but took his place, while all was hushed,
+and no one spoke or even seemed to breathe, so great was the silence
+for wonder what he would do.  Meanwhile, also, quite still stood
+the stranger, holding his bow in his hand, while one could count five;
+then he drew his trusty yew,
+
+
+
+
+holding it drawn but a moment, then loosed the string.
+Straight flew the arrow, and so true that it smote a gray
+goose feather from off Gilbert's shaft, which fell fluttering
+through the sunlit air as the stranger's arrow lodged
+close beside his of the Red Cap, and in the very center.
+No one spoke a word for a while and no one shouted, but each man
+looked into his neighbor's face amazedly.
+
+"Nay," quoth old Adam o' the Dell presently, drawing a long breath
+and shaking his head as he spoke, "twoscore years and more have I
+shot shaft, and maybe not all times bad, but I shoot no more this day,
+for no man can match with yon stranger, whosoe'er he may be."
+Then he thrust his shaft into his quiver, rattling, and unstrung
+his bow without another word.
+
+Then the Sheriff came down from his dais and drew near, in all his
+silks and velvets, to where the tattered stranger stood leaning upon
+his stout bow, while the good folk crowded around to see the man
+who shot so wondrously well.  "Here, good fellow," quoth the Sheriff,
+"take thou the prize, and well and fairly hast thou won it, I bow.
+What may be thy name, and whence comest thou?"
+
+"Men do call me Jock o' Teviotdale, and thence am I come,"
+said the stranger.
+
+"Then, by Our Lady, Jock, thou art the fairest archer that e'er mine
+eyes beheld, and if thou wilt join my service I will clothe thee with a
+better coat than that thou hast upon thy back; thou shalt eat and drink
+of the best, and at every Christmastide fourscore marks shall be thy wage.
+I trow thou drawest better bow than that same coward knave Robin Hood,
+that dared not show his face here this day.  Say, good fellow, wilt thou
+join my service?"
+
+"Nay, that will I not," quoth the stranger roughly.
+"I will be mine own, and no man in all merry England shall
+be my master."
+
+"Then get thee gone, and a murrain seize thee!" cried the Sheriff,
+and his voice trembled with anger.  "And by my faith and troth,
+I have a good part of a mind to have thee beaten for thine insolence!"
+Then he turned upon his heel and strode away.
+
+It was a right motley company that gathered about the noble
+greenwood tree in Sherwood's depths that same day.
+A score and more of barefoot friars were there, and some that
+looked like tinkers, and some that seemed to be sturdy beggars
+and rustic hinds; and seated upon a mossy couch was one all clad
+in tattered scarlet, with a patch over one eye; and in his
+hand he held the golden arrow that was the prize of the great
+shooting match.  Then, amidst a noise of talking and laughter,
+he took the patch from off his eye and stripped away the scarlet
+rags from off his body and showed himself all clothed in fair
+Lincoln green; and quoth he, "Easy come these things away,
+but walnut stain cometh not so speedily from yellow hair."
+Then all laughed louder than before, for it was Robin Hood
+himself that had won the prize from the Sheriff's very hands.
+
+Then all sat down to the woodland feast and talked among themselves
+of the merry jest that had been played upon the Sheriff, and of the
+adventures that had befallen each member of the band in his disguise.
+But when the feast was done, Robin Hood took Little John apart and said,
+"Truly am I vexed in my blood, for I heard the Sheriff say today,
+`Thou shootest better than that coward knave Robin Hood, that dared
+not show his face here this day.'  I would fain let him know who it
+was who won the golden arrow from out his hand, and also that I am
+no coward such as he takes me to be."
+
+Then Little John said, "Good master, take thou me and Will Stutely,
+and we will send yon fat Sheriff news of all this by a messenger
+such as he doth not expect."
+
+That day the Sheriff sat at meat in the great hall of his
+house at Nottingham Town.  Long tables stood down the hall,
+at which sat men-at-arms and household servants and good stout
+villains,[1] in all fourscore and more.  There they talked of
+the day's shooting as they ate their meat and quaffed their ale.
+The Sheriff sat at the head of the table upon a raised seat
+under a canopy, and beside him sat his dame.
+
+
+[1] Bond-servants.
+
+
+"By my troth," said he, "I did reckon full roundly that that knave Robin Hood
+would be at the game today.  I did not think that he was such a coward.
+But who could that saucy knave be who answered me to my beard so bravely?
+I wonder that I did not have him beaten; but there was something about him
+that spoke of other things than rags and tatters."
+
+Then, even as he finished speaking, something fell rattling among
+the dishes on the table, while those that sat near started up wondering
+what it might be.  After a while one of the men-at-arms gathered courage
+enough to pick it up and bring it to the Sheriff.  Then everyone
+saw that it was a blunted gray goose shaft, with a fine scroll,
+about the thickness of a goose quill, tied near to its head.
+The Sheriff opened the scroll and glanced at it, while the veins upon
+his forehead swelled and his cheeks grew ruddy with rage as he read,
+for this was what he saw:
+
+     "_Now Heaven bless Thy Grace this day
+     Say all in sweet Sherwood
+     For thou didst give the prize away
+     To merry Robin Hood_."
+
+
+"Whence came this?" cried the Sheriff in a mighty voice.
+
+"Even through the window, Your Worship," quoth the man who had handed
+the shaft to him.
+
+
+
+Will Stutely Rescued by His Companions
+
+NOW WHEN THE SHERIFF found that neither law nor guile could overcome
+Robin Hood, he was much perplexed, and said to himself, "Fool that I am!
+Had I not told our King of Robin Hood, I would not have gotten myself
+into such a coil; but now I must either take him captive or have wrath
+visited upon my head from his most gracious Majesty.  I have tried law,
+and I have tried guile, and I have failed in both; so I will try what may
+be done with might."
+
+Thus communing within himself, he called his constables together and told
+them what was in his mind.  "Now take ye each four men, all armed in proof,"
+said he, "and get ye gone to the forest, at different points, and lie
+in wait for this same Robin Hood.  But if any constable finds too many men
+against him, let him sound a horn, and then let each band within hearing
+come with all speed and join the party that calls them.  Thus, I think,
+shall we take this green-clad knave.  Furthermore, to him that first meeteth
+with Robin Hood shall one hundred pounds of silver money be given, if he be
+brought to me dead or alive; and to him that meeteth with any of his band
+shall twoscore pounds be given, if such be brought to me dead or alive.
+So, be ye bold and be ye crafty."
+
+So thus they went in threescore companies of five to Sherwood Forest,
+to take Robin Hood, each constable wishing that he might be
+the one to find the bold outlaw, or at least one of his band.
+For seven days and nights they hunted through the forest glades,
+but never saw so much as a single man in Lincoln green; for tidings
+of all this had been brought to Robin Hood by trusty Eadom o'
+the Blue Boar.
+
+When he first heard the news, Robin said, "If the Sheriff dare send force
+to meet force, woe will it be for him and many a better man besides,
+for blood will flow and there will be great trouble for all.
+But fain would I shun blood and battle, and fain would I not deal sorrow
+to womenfolk and wives because good stout yeomen lose their lives.
+Once I slew a man, and never do I wish to slay a man again,
+for it is bitter for the soul to think thereon.  So now we will
+abide silently in Sherwood Forest, so that it may be well for all,
+but should we be forced to defend ourselves, or any of our band,
+then let each man draw bow and brand with might and main."
+
+At this speech many of the band shook their heads, and said to themselves,
+"Now the Sheriff will think that we are cowards, and folk will scoff
+throughout the countryside, saying that we fear to meet these men."
+But they said nothing aloud, swallowing their words and doing as
+Robin bade them.
+
+Thus they hid in the depths of Sherwood Forest for seven days and seven
+nights and never showed their faces abroad in all that time; but early in
+the morning of the eighth day Robin Hood called the band together and said,
+"Now who will go and find what the Sheriff's men are at by this time?
+For I know right well they will not bide forever within Sherwood shades."
+
+At this a great shout arose, and each man waved his bow aloft
+and cried that he might be the one to go.  Then Robin Hood's heart
+was proud when he looked around on his stout, brave fellows,
+and he said, "Brave and true are ye all, my merry men, and a right
+stout band of good fellows are ye, but ye cannot all go, so I
+will choose one from among you, and it shall be good Will Stutely,
+for he is as sly as e'er an old dog fox in Sherwood Forest."
+
+Then Will Stutely leaped high aloft and laughed loudly, clapping his
+hands for pure joy that he should have been chosen from among them all.
+"Now thanks, good master," quoth he, "and if I bring not news of those
+knaves to thee, call me no more thy sly Will Stutely."
+
+Then he clad himself in a friar's gown, and underneath the robe he hung
+a good broadsword in such a place that he could easily lay hands upon it.
+Thus clad, he set forth upon his quest, until he came to the verge of
+the forest, and so to the highway.  He saw two bands of the Sheriff's men,
+yet he turned neither to the right nor the left, but only drew his cowl
+the closer over his face, folding his hands as if in meditation.
+So at last he came to the Sign of the Blue Boar.  "For," quoth he to himself,
+"our good friend Eadom will tell me all the news."
+
+At the Sign of the Blue Boar he found a band of the Sheriffs
+men drinking right lustily; so, without speaking to anyone,
+he sat down upon a distant bench, his staff in his hand,
+and his head bowed forward as though he were meditating.
+Thus he sat waiting until he might see the landlord apart, and Eadom
+did not know him, but thought him to be some poor tired friar,
+so he let him sit without saying a word to him or molesting him,
+though he liked not the cloth.  "For," said he to himself,
+"it is a hard heart that kicks the lame dog from off the sill."
+As Stutely sat thus, there came a great house cat and rubbed
+against his knee, raising his robe a palm's-breadth high.
+Stutely pushed his robe quickly down again, but the constable
+who commanded the Sheriffs men saw what had passed,
+and saw also fair Lincoln green beneath the friar's robe.
+He said nothing at the time, but communed within himself in this wise:
+"Yon is no friar of orders gray, and also, I wot, no honest yeoman
+goeth about in priest's garb, nor doth a thief go so for nought.
+Now I think in good sooth that is one of Robin Hood's own men."
+So, presently, he said aloud, "O holy father, wilt thou not take
+a good pot of March beer to slake thy thirsty soul withal?"
+
+But Stutely shook his head silently, for he said to himself,
+"Maybe there be those here who know my voice."
+
+Then the constable said again, "Whither goest thou, holy friar,
+upon this hot summer's day?"
+
+"I go a pilgrim to Canterbury Town," answered Will Stutely,
+speaking gruffly, so that none might know his voice.
+
+Then the constable said, for the third time, "Now tell me,
+holy father, do pilgrims to Canterbury wear good Lincoln green
+beneath their robes?  Ha!  By my faith, I take thee to be
+some lusty thief, and perhaps one of Robin Hood's own band!
+Now, by Our Lady's grace, if thou movest hand or foot,
+I will run thee through the body with my sword!"
+
+Then he flashed forth his bright sword and leaped upon Will Stutely,
+thinking he would take him unaware; but Stutely had his own sword
+tightly held in his hand, beneath his robe, so he drew it forth before
+the constable came upon him.  Then the stout constable struck a mighty blow;
+but he struck no more in all that fight, for Stutely, parrying the blow
+right deftly, smote the constable back again with all his might.
+Then he would have escaped, but could not, for the other, all dizzy
+with the wound and with the flowing blood, seized him by the knees with
+his arms even as he reeled and fell.  Then the others rushed upon him,
+and Stutely struck again at another of the Sheriff's men, but the steel
+cap glanced the blow, and though the blade bit deep, it did not kill.
+Meanwhile, the constable, fainting as he was, drew Stutely downward,
+and the others, seeing the yeoman hampered so, rushed upon him again,
+and one smote him a blow upon the crown so that the blood ran down his face
+and blinded him.  Then, staggering, he fell, and all sprang upon him,
+though he struggled so manfully that they could hardly hold him fast.
+Then they bound him with stout hempen cords so that he could not move
+either hand or foot, and thus they overcame him.
+
+Robin Hood stood under the greenwood tree, thinking of Will Stutely
+and how he might be faring, when suddenly he saw two of his stout
+yeomen come running down the forest path, and betwixt them ran buxom
+Maken of the Blue Boar.  Then Robin's heart fell, for he knew they
+were the bearers of ill tidings.
+
+"Will Stutely hath been taken," cried they, when they had come
+to where he stood.
+
+"And is it thou that hast brought such doleful news?"
+said Robin to the lass.
+
+"Ay, marry, for I saw it all," cried she, panting as the hare
+pants when it has escaped the hounds, "and I fear he is
+wounded sore, for one smote him main shrewdly i' the crown.
+They have bound him and taken him to Nottingham Town, and ere I
+left the Blue Boar I heard that he should be hanged tomorrow day."
+
+"He shall not be hanged tomorrow day," cried Robin; "or, if he be,
+full many a one shall gnaw the sod, and many shall have cause
+to cry Alack-a-day!"
+
+Then he clapped his horn to his lips and blew three blasts right loudly,
+and presently his good yeomen came running through the greenwood until
+sevenscore bold blades were gathered around him.
+
+"Now hark you all!" cried Robin.  "Our dear companion Will Stutely
+hath been taken by that vile Sheriff's men, therefore doth it
+behoove us to take bow and brand in hand to bring him off again;
+for I wot that we ought to risk life and limb for him, as he hath
+risked life and limb for us.  Is it not so, my merry men all?"
+Then all cried, "Ay!" with a great voice.
+
+So the next day they all wended their way from Sherwood Forest,
+but by different paths, for it behooved them to be very crafty;
+so the band separated into parties of twos and threes,
+which were all to meet again in a tangled dell that lay near
+to Nottingham Town.  Then, when they had all gathered together
+at the place of meeting, Robin spoke to them thus:
+
+"Now we will lie here in ambush until we can get news, for it doth behoove
+us to be cunning and wary if we would bring our friend Will Stutely off
+from the Sheriff's clutches."
+
+So they lay hidden a long time, until the sun stood high in the sky.
+The day was warm and the dusty road was bare of travelers, except an aged
+palmer who walked slowly along the highroad that led close beside
+the gray castle wall of Nottingham Town.  When Robin saw that no
+other wayfarer was within sight, he called young David of Doncaster,
+who was a shrewd man for his years, and said to him, "Now get thee forth,
+young David, and speak to yonder palmer that walks beside the town wall,
+for he hath come but now from Nottingham Town, and may tell thee news
+of good Stutely, perchance."
+
+So David strode forth, and when he came up to the pilgrim,
+he saluted him and said, "Good morrow, holy father, and canst thou
+tell me when Will Stutely will be hanged upon the gallows tree?
+I fain would not miss the sight, for I have come from afar to see
+so sturdy a rogue hanged."
+
+"Now, out upon thee, young man," cried the Palmer, "that thou
+shouldst speak so when a good stout man is to be hanged for
+nothing but guarding his own life!"  And he struck his staff upon
+the ground in anger.  "Alas, say I, that this thing should be!
+For even this day, toward evening, when the sun falleth low, he shall
+be hanged, fourscore rods from the great town gate of Nottingham,
+where three roads meet; for there the Sheriff sweareth he shall
+die as a warning to all outlaws in Nottinghamshire.  But yet,
+I say again, Alas!  For, though Robin Hood and his band may be outlaws,
+yet he taketh only from the rich and the strong and the dishonest man,
+while there is not a poor widow nor a peasant with many children,
+nigh to Sherwood, but has barley flour enough all the year long
+through him.  It grieves my heart to see one as gallant as this
+Stutely die, for I have been a good Saxon yeoman in my day, ere I
+turned palmer, and well I know a stout hand and one that smiteth
+shrewdly at a cruel Norman or a proud abbot with fat moneybags.
+Had good Stutely's master but known how his man was compassed
+about with perils, perchance he might send succor to bring him
+out of the hand of his enemies.
+
+"Ay, marry, that is true," cried the young man.  "If Robin and his men
+be nigh this place, I wot right well they will strive to bring him forth
+from his peril.  But fare thee well, thou good old man, and believe me,
+if Will Stutely die, he shall be right well avenged."
+
+Then he turned and strode rapidly away; but the Palmer looked
+after him, muttering, "I wot that youth is no country hind that hath
+come to see a good man die.  Well, well, perchance Robin Hood
+is not so far away but that there will be stout doings this day."
+So he went upon his way, muttering to himself.
+
+When David of Doncaster told Robin Hood what the Palmer had said to him,
+Robin called the band around him and spoke to them thus:
+
+"Now let us get straightway into Nottingham Town and mix ourselves
+with the people there; but keep ye one another in sight, pressing as near
+the prisoner and his guards as ye can, when they come outside the walls.
+Strike no man without need, for I would fain avoid bloodshed, but if ye
+do strike, strike hard, and see that there be no need to strike again.
+Then keep all together until we come again to Sherwood, and let no man
+leave his fellows."
+
+The sun was low in the western sky when a bugle note sounded from
+the castle wall.  Then all was bustle in Nottingham Town and crowds
+filled the streets, for all knew that the famous Will Stutely was to be
+hanged that day.  Presently the castle gates opened wide and a great
+array of men-at-arms came forth with noise and clatter, the Sheriff,
+all clad in shining mail of linked chain, riding at their head.
+In the midst of all the guard, in a cart, with a halter about his neck,
+rode Will Stutely.  His face was pale with his wound and with loss
+of blood, like the moon in broad daylight, and his fair hair was
+clotted in points upon his forehead, where the blood had hardened.
+When he came forth from the castle he looked up and he looked down,
+but though he saw some faces that showed pity and some that showed
+friendliness, he saw none that he knew.  Then his heart sank within
+him like a plummet of lead, but nevertheless he spoke up boldly.
+
+"Give a sword into my hand, Sir Sheriff," said he, "and wounded man though
+I be, I will fight thee and all thy men till life and strength be gone."
+
+"Nay, thou naughty varlet," quoth the Sheriff, turning his head and looking
+right grimly upon Will Stutely, "thou shalt have no sword but shall die
+a mean death, as beseemeth a vile thief like thee."
+
+"Then do but untie my hands and I will fight thee and thy men
+with no weapon but only my naked fists.  I crave no weapon,
+but let me not be meanly hanged this day."
+
+Then the Sheriff laughed aloud.  "Why, how now," quoth he,
+"is thy proud stomach quailing?  Shrive thyself, thou vile knave,
+for I mean that thou shalt hang this day, and that where three
+roads meet, so that all men shall see thee hang, for carrion
+crows and daws to peck at."
+
+"O thou dastard heart!" cried Will Stutely, gnashing his
+teeth at the Sheriff.  "Thou coward hind!  If ever my good
+master meet thee thou shalt pay dearly for this day's work!
+He doth scorn thee, and so do all brave hearts.  Knowest thou
+not that thou and thy name are jests upon the lips of every
+brave yeoman?  Such a one as thou art, thou wretched craven,
+will never be able to subdue bold Robin Hood."
+
+"Ha!" cried the Sheriff in a rage, "is it even so?
+Am I a jest with thy master, as thou callest him?
+Now I will make a jest of thee and a sorry jest withal,
+for I will quarter thee limb from limb, after thou art hanged."
+Then he spurred his horse forward and said no more to Stutely.
+
+At last they came to the great town gate, through which Stutely
+saw the fair country beyond, with hills and dales all clothed
+in verdure, and far away the dusky line of Sherwood's skirts.
+Then when he saw the slanting sunlight lying on field and fallow,
+shining redly here and there on cot and farmhouse, and when he heard
+the sweet birds singing their vespers, and the sheep bleating upon
+the hillside, and beheld the swallows flying in the bright air,
+there came a great fullness to his heart so that all things blurred
+to his sight through salt tears, and he bowed his head lest the folk
+should think him unmanly when they saw the tears in his eyes.
+Thus he kept his head bowed till they had passed through the gate
+and were outside the walls of the town.  But when he looked up again
+he felt his heart leap within him and then stand still for pure joy,
+for he saw the face of one of his own dear companions of merry Sherwood;
+then glancing quickly around he saw well-known faces upon all
+sides of him, crowding closely upon the men-at-arms who were
+guarding him.  Then of a sudden the blood sprang to his cheeks,
+for he saw for a moment his own good master in the press and,
+seeing him, knew that Robin Hood and all his band were there.
+Yet betwixt him and them was a line of men-at-arms.
+
+"Now, stand back!" cried the Sheriff in a mighty voice, for the crowd pressed
+around on all sides.  "What mean ye, varlets, that ye push upon us so?
+Stand back, I say!"
+
+Then came a bustle and a noise, and one strove to push between the men-at-arms
+so as to reach the cart, and Stutely saw that it was Little John that made
+all that stir.
+
+"Now stand thou back!" cried one of the men-at-arms whom Little John pushed
+with his elbows.
+
+"Now stand thou back thine own self," quoth Little John, and straightway smote
+the man a buffet beside his head that felled him as a butcher fells an ox,
+and then he leaped to the cart where Stutely sat.
+
+"I pray thee take leave of thy friends ere thou diest, Will,"
+quoth he, "or maybe I will die with thee if thou must die,
+for I could never have better company."  Then with one stroke
+he cut the bonds that bound the other's arms and legs,
+and Stutely leaped straightway from the cart.
+
+"Now as I live," cried the Sheriff, "yon varlet I know right well
+is a sturdy rebel!  Take him, I bid you all, and let him not go!"
+
+So saying, he spurred his horse upon Little John, and rising
+in his stirrups smote with might and main, but Little John ducked
+quickly underneath the horse's belly and the blow whistled
+harmlessly over his head.
+
+"Nay, good Sir Sheriff," cried he, leaping up again when the blow
+had passed, "I must e'en borrow thy most worshipful sword."
+Thereupon he twitched the weapon deftly from out the Sheriff's hand,
+"Here, Stutely," he cried, "the Sheriff hath lent thee his sword!
+Back to back with me, man, and defend thyself, for help is nigh!"
+
+"Down with them!" bellowed the Sheriff in a voice like an angry bull;
+and he spurred his horse upon the two who now stood back to back,
+forgetting in his rage that he had no weapon with which to defend himself.
+
+"Stand back, Sheriff!" cried Little John; and even as he spoke,
+a bugle horn sounded shrilly and a clothyard shaft whistled within
+an inch of the Sheriff's head.  Then came a swaying hither and thither,
+and oaths, cries, and groans, and clashing of steel, and swords flashed
+in the setting sun, and a score of arrows whistled through the air.
+And some cried, "Help, help!" and some, "A rescue, a rescue!"
+
+"Treason!" cried the Sheriff in a loud voice.  "Bear back!
+Bear back!  Else we be all dead men!"  Thereupon he reined
+his horse backward through the thickest of the crowd.
+
+Now Robin Hood and his band might have slain half of the Sheriff's men
+had they desired to do so, but they let them push out of the press
+and get them gone, only sending a bunch of arrows after them to hurry
+them in their flight.
+
+"Oh stay!" shouted Will Stutely after the Sheriff.  "Thou wilt never
+catch bold Robin Hood if thou dost not stand to meet him face to face."
+But the Sheriff, bowing along his horse's back, made no answer but only
+spurred the faster.
+
+Then Will Stutely turned to Little John and looked him in the face
+till the tears ran down from his eyes and he wept aloud; and kissing
+his friend's cheeks, "O Little John!" quoth he, "mine own true friend,
+and he that I love better than man or woman in all the world beside!
+Little did I reckon to see thy face this day, or to meet thee this
+side Paradise."  Little John could make no answer, but wept also.
+
+Then Robin Hood gathered his band together in a close rank, with Will Stutely
+in the midst, and thus they moved slowly away toward Sherwood, and were gone,
+as a storm cloud moves away from the spot where a tempest has swept the land.
+But they left ten of the Sheriff's men lying along the ground wounded--
+some more, some less--yet no one knew who smote them down.
+
+Thus the Sheriff of Nottingham tried thrice to take Robin Hood
+and failed each time; and the last time he was frightened,
+for he felt how near he had come to losing his life; so he said,
+"These men fear neither God nor man, nor king nor king's officers.
+I would sooner lose mine office than my life, so I will trouble
+them no more."  So he kept close within his castle for many
+a day and dared not show his face outside of his own household,
+and all the time he was gloomy and would speak to no one,
+for he was ashamed of what had happened that day.
+
+
+
+Robin Hood Turns Butcher
+
+NOW AFTER all these things had happened, and it became known
+to Robin Hood how the Sheriff had tried three times to make
+him captive, he said to himself, "If I have the chance,
+I will make our worshipful Sheriff pay right well for that
+which he hath done to me.  Maybe I may bring him some time into
+Sherwood Forest and have him to a right merry feast with us."
+For when Robin Hood caught a baron or a squire, or a fat abbot
+or bishop, he brought them to the greenwood tree and feasted
+them before he lightened their purses.
+
+But in the meantime Robin Hood and his band lived quietly in Sherwood Forest,
+without showing their faces abroad, for Robin knew that it would
+not be wise for him to be seen in the neighborhood of Nottingham,
+those in authority being very wroth with him.  But though they
+did not go abroad, they lived a merry life within the woodlands,
+spending the days in shooting at garlands hung upon a willow wand at the end
+of the glade, the leafy aisles ringing with merry jests and laughter:
+for whoever missed the garland was given a sound buffet, which, if delivered
+by Little John, never failed to topple over the unfortunate yeoman.
+Then they had bouts of wrestling and of cudgel play, so that every day
+they gained in skill and strength.
+
+Thus they dwelled for nearly a year, and in that time Robin Hood
+often turned over in his mind many means of making an even score
+with the Sheriff.  At last he began to fret at his confinement;
+so one day he took up his stout cudgel and set forth to seek adventure,
+strolling blithely along until he came to the edge of Sherwood.  There, as he
+rambled along the sunlit road, he met a lusty young butcher driving
+a fine mare and riding in a stout new cart, all hung about with meat.
+Merrily whistled the Butcher as he jogged along, for he was going
+to the market, and the day was fresh and sweet, making his heart
+blithe within him.
+
+"Good morrow to thee, jolly fellow," quoth Robin, "thou seemest
+happy this merry morn."
+
+"Ay, that am I," quoth the jolly Butcher, "and why should I not be so?
+Am I not hale in wind and limb?  Have I not the bonniest lass
+in all Nottinghamshire?  And lastly, am I not to be married to her
+on Thursday next in sweet Locksley Town?"
+
+"Ha," said Robin, "comest thou from Locksley Town?  Well do I know
+that fair place for miles about, and well do I know each hedgerow
+and gentle pebbly stream, and even all the bright little fishes therein,
+for there I was born and bred.  Now, where goest thou with thy meat,
+my fair friend?"
+
+"I go to the market at Nottingham Town to sell my beef and my mutton,"
+answered the Butcher.  "But who art thou that comest from Locksley Town?"
+
+"A yeoman am I, and men do call me Robin Hood."
+
+"Now, by Our Lady's grace," cried the Butcher, "well do I know thy name,
+and many a time have I heard thy deeds both sung and spoken of.
+But Heaven forbid that thou shouldst take aught of me!
+An honest man am I, and have wronged neither man nor maid;
+so trouble me not, good master, as I have never troubled thee."
+
+"Nay, Heaven forbid, indeed," quoth Robin, "that I should take from
+such as thee, jolly fellow!  Not so much as one farthing would I
+take from thee, for I love a fair Saxon face like thine right well--
+more especially when it cometh from Locksley Town, and most especially
+when the man that owneth it is to marry a bonny lass on Thursday next.
+But come, tell me for what price thou wilt sell me all of thy meat
+and thy horse and cart."
+
+"At four marks do I value meat, cart, and mare," quoth the Butcher,
+"but if I do not sell all my meat I will not have four marks in value."
+
+Then Robin Hood plucked the purse from his girdle, and quoth he,
+"Here in this purse are six marks.  Now, I would fain be a butcher
+for the day and sell my meat in Nottingham Town.  Wilt thou close
+a bargain with me and take six marks for thine outfit?"
+
+"Now may the blessings of all the saints fall on thine honest head!"
+cried the Butcher right joyfully, as he leaped down from his cart
+and took the purse that Robin held out to him.
+
+"Nay," quoth Robin, laughing loudly, "many do like me and wish
+me well, but few call me honest.  Now get thee gone back
+to thy lass, and give her a sweet kiss from me."  So saying,
+he donned the Butcher's apron, and, climbing into the cart,
+he took the reins in his hand and drove off through the forest
+to Nottingham Town.
+
+When he came to Nottingham, he entered that part of the market
+where butchers stood, and took up his inn[2] in the best place
+he could find.  Next, he opened his stall and spread his meat
+upon the bench, then, taking his cleaver and steel and clattering
+them together, he trolled aloud in merry tones:
+
+[2] Stand for selling.
+
+ "Now come, ye lasses, and eke ye dames,
+     And buy your meat from me;
+ For three pennyworths of meat I sell
+     For the charge of one penny.
+
+ "Lamb have I that hath fed upon nought
+     But the dainty dames pied,
+ And the violet sweet, and the daffodil
+     That grow fair streams beside.
+
+ "And beef have I from the heathery words,
+     And mutton from dales all green,
+ And veal as white as a maiden's brow,
+     With its mother's milk, I ween.
+
+ "Then come, ye lasses, and eke ye dames,
+     Come, buy your meat from me,
+ For three pennyworths of meat I sell
+     For the charge of one penny."
+
+
+Thus he sang blithely, while all who stood near listened amazedly.
+Then, when he had finished, he clattered the steel and cleaver still
+more loudly, shouting lustily, "Now, who'll buy?  Who'll buy?
+Four fixed prices have I. Three pennyworths of meat I sell to a
+fat friar or priest for sixpence, for I want not their custom;
+stout aldermen I charge threepence, for it doth not matter to me
+whether they buy or not; to buxom dames I sell three pennyworths
+of meat for one penny for I like their custom well; but to the bonny
+lass that hath a liking for a good tight butcher I charge nought
+but one fair kiss, for I like her custom the best of all."
+
+Then all began to stare and wonder and crowd around, laughing,
+for never was such selling heard of in all Nottingham Town;
+but when they came to buy they found it as he had said,
+for he gave goodwife or dame as much meat for one penny as they
+could buy elsewhere for three, and when a widow or a poor woman
+came to him, he gave her flesh for nothing; but when a merry lass
+came and gave him a kiss, he charged not one penny for his meat;
+and many such came to his stall, for his eyes were as blue as the skies
+of June, and he laughed merrily, giving to each full measure.
+Thus he sold his meat so fast that no butcher that stood near
+him could sell anything.
+
+Then they began to talk among themselves, and some said, "This must
+be some thief who has stolen cart, horse, and meat"; but others said,
+"Nay, when did ye ever see a thief who parted with his goods so
+freely and merrily?  This must be some prodigal who hath sold his
+father's land, and would fain live merrily while the money lasts."
+And these latter being the greater number, the others came round,
+one by one to their way of thinking.
+
+Then some of the butchers came to him to make his acquaintance.
+"Come, brother," quoth one who was the head of them all,
+"we be all of one trade, so wilt thou go dine with us?
+For this day the Sheriff hath asked all the Butcher Guild to feast
+with him at the Guild Hall.  There will be stout fare and much
+to drink, and that thou likest, or I much mistake thee."
+
+"Now, beshrew his heart," quoth jolly Robin, "that would deny a butcher.
+And, moreover, I will go dine with you all, my sweet lads, and that as fast
+as I can hie."  Whereupon, having sold all his meat, he closed his stall
+and went with them to the great Guild Hall.
+
+There the Sheriff had already come in state, and with him many butchers.
+When Robin and those that were with him came in, all laughing
+at some merry jest he had been telling them, those that were near
+the Sheriff whispered to him, "Yon is a right mad blade, for he hath
+sold more meat for one penny this day than we could sell for three,
+and to whatsoever merry lass gave him a kiss he gave meat for nought."
+And others said, "He is some prodigal that hath sold his land for silver
+and gold, and meaneth to spend all right merrily."
+
+Then the Sheriff called Robin to him, not knowing him in his
+butcher's dress, and made him sit close to him on his right hand;
+for he loved a rich young prodigal--especially when he thought that he might
+lighten that prodigal's pockets into his own most worshipful purse.
+So he made much of Robin, and laughed and talked with him more than
+with any of the others.
+
+At last the dinner was ready to be served and the Sheriff bade
+Robin say grace, so Robin stood up and said, "Now Heaven bless
+us all and eke good meat and good sack within this house,
+and may all butchers be and remain as honest men as I am."
+
+At this all laughed, the Sheriff loudest of all, for he said to himself,
+"Surely this is indeed some prodigal, and perchance I may empty his
+purse of some of the money that the fool throweth about so freely."
+Then he spake aloud to Robin, saying, "Thou art a jolly young blade,
+and I love thee mightily"; and he smote Robin upon the shoulder.
+
+Then Robin laughed loudly too.  "Yea," quoth he, "I know thou dost
+love a jolly blade, for didst thou not have jolly Robin Hood at thy
+shooting match and didst thou not gladly give him a bright golden
+arrow for his own?"
+
+At this the Sheriff looked grave and all the guild of butchers too,
+so that none laughed but Robin, only some winked slyly at each other.
+
+"Come, fill us some sack!" cried Robin.  "Let us e'er be merry
+while we may, for man is but dust, and he hath but a span to live
+here till the worm getteth him, as our good gossip Swanthold sayeth;
+so let life be merry while it lasts, say I. Nay, never look down i'
+the mouth, Sir Sheriff.  Who knowest but that thou mayest catch
+Robin Hood yet, if thou drinkest less good sack and Malmsey, and bringest
+down the fat about thy paunch and the dust from out thy brain.
+Be merry, man."
+
+Then the Sheriff laughed again, but not as though he liked the jest,
+while the butchers said, one to another, "Before Heaven, never have
+we seen such a mad rollicking blade.  Mayhap, though, he will make
+the Sheriff mad."
+
+"How now, brothers," cried Robin, "be merry! nay, never count
+over your farthings, for by this and by that I will pay
+this shot myself, e'en though it cost two hundred pounds.
+So let no man draw up his lip, nor thrust his forefinger into
+his purse, for I swear that neither butcher nor Sheriff shall
+pay one penny for this feast."
+
+"Now thou art a right merry soul," quoth the Sheriff, "and I wot thou
+must have many a head of horned beasts and many an acre of land,
+that thou dost spend thy money so freely."
+
+"Ay, that have I," quoth Robin, laughing loudly again, "five hundred
+and more horned beasts have I and my brothers, and none of them
+have we been able to sell, else I might not have turned butcher.
+As for my land, I have never asked my steward how many acres I have."
+
+At this the Sheriff's eyes twinkled, and he chuckled to himself.
+"Nay, good youth," quoth he, "if thou canst not sell thy cattle,
+it may be I will find a man that will lift them from thy hands;
+perhaps that man may be myself, for I love a merry youth and would
+help such a one along the path of life.  Now how much dost thou
+want for thy horned cattle?"
+
+"Well," quoth Robin, "they are worth at least five hundred pounds."
+
+"Nay," answered the Sheriff slowly, and as if he were thinking within himself,
+"well do I love thee, and fain would I help thee along, but five hundred
+pounds in money is a good round sum; besides I have it not by me.
+Yet I will give thee three hundred pounds for them all, and that in good
+hard silver and gold."
+
+"Now thou old miser!" quoth Robin, "well thou knowest that so many horned
+cattle are worth seven hundred pounds and more, and even that is but small
+for them, and yet thou, with thy gray hairs and one foot in the grave,
+wouldst trade upon the folly of a wild youth."
+
+At this the Sheriff looked grimly at Robin.  "Nay," quoth Robin,
+"look not on me as though thou hadst sour beer in thy mouth, man.
+I will take thine offer, for I and my brothers do need the money.
+We lead a merry life, and no one leads a merry life for a farthing,
+so I will close the bargain with thee.  But mind that thou bringest
+a good three hundred pounds with thee, for I trust not one that driveth
+so shrewd a bargain."
+
+"I will bring the money," said the Sheriff.  "But what is
+thy name, good youth?"
+
+"Men call me Robert o' Locksley," quoth bold Robin.
+
+"Then, good Robert o' Locksley," quoth the Sheriff, "I will come this
+day to see thy horned beasts.  But first my clerk shall draw up a paper
+in which thou shalt be bound to the sale, for thou gettest not my money
+without I get thy beasts in return."
+
+Then Robin Hood laughed again.  "So be it," he said, smiting his palm
+upon the Sheriff's hand.  "Truly my brothers will be thankful to thee
+for thy money."
+
+Thus the bargain was closed, but many of the butchers talked among
+themselves of the Sheriff, saying that it was but a scurvy trick
+to beguile a poor spendthrift youth in this way.
+
+The afternoon had come when the Sheriff mounted his horse and joined
+Robin Hood, who stood outside the gateway of the paved court waiting
+for him, for he had sold his horse and cart to a trader for two marks.
+Then they set forth upon their way, the Sheriff riding upon his
+horse and Robin running beside him.  Thus they left Nottingham Town
+and traveled forward along the dusty highway, laughing and jesting
+together as though they had been old friends.  But all the time
+the Sheriff said within himself, "Thy jest to me of Robin Hood shall
+cost thee dear, good fellow, even four hundred pounds, thou fool."
+For he thought he would make at least that much by his bargain.
+
+So they journeyed onward till they came within the verge of Sherwood Forest,
+when presently the Sheriff looked up and down and to the right and
+to the left of him, and then grew quiet and ceased his laughter.
+"Now," quoth he, "may Heaven and its saints preserve us this day from
+a rogue men call Robin Hood."
+
+Then Robin laughed aloud.  "Nay," said he, "thou mayst set thy mind at rest,
+for well do I know Robin Hood and well do I know that thou art in no more
+danger from him this day than thou art from me."
+
+At this the Sheriff looked askance at Robin, saying to himself,
+"I like not that thou seemest so well acquainted with this bold outlaw,
+and I wish that I were well out of Sherwood Forest."
+
+But still they traveled deeper into the forest shades, and the deeper
+they went, the more quiet grew the Sheriff.  At last they came
+to where the road took a sudden bend, and before them a herd of dun
+deer went tripping across the path.  Then Robin Hood came close
+to the Sheriff and pointing his finger, he said, "These are my
+horned beasts, good Master Sheriff.  How dost thou like them?
+Are they not fat and fair to see?"
+
+At this the Sheriff drew rein quickly.  "Now fellow," quoth he,
+"I would I were well out of this forest, for I like not thy company.
+Go thou thine own path, good friend, and let me but go mine."
+
+But Robin only laughed and caught the Sheriff's bridle rein.
+"Nay," cried he, "stay awhile, for I would thou shouldst see
+my brothers, who own these fair horned beasts with me."
+So saying, he clapped his bugle to his mouth and winded three
+merry notes, and presently up the path came leaping fivescore
+good stout yeomen with Little John at their head.
+
+"What wouldst thou have, good master?" quoth Little John.
+
+"Why," answered Robin, "dost thou not see that I have brought
+goodly company to feast with us today?  Fye, for shame!
+Do you not see our good and worshipful master, the Sheriff
+of Nottingham?  Take thou his bridle, Little John, for he has
+honored us today by coming to feast with us."
+
+Then all doffed their hats humbly, without smiling or seeming to be in jest,
+while Little John took the bridle rein and led the palfrey still deeper into
+the forest, all marching in order, with Robin Hood walking beside the Sheriff,
+hat in hand.
+
+All this time the Sheriff said never a word but only looked
+about him like one suddenly awakened from sleep; but when he found
+himself going within the very depths of Sherwood his heart sank
+within him, for he thought, "Surely my three hundred pounds
+will be taken from me, even if they take not my life itself,
+for I have plotted against their lives more than once."
+But all seemed humble and meek and not a word was said of danger,
+either to life or money.
+
+So at last they came to that part of Sherwood Forest where a noble oak
+spread its branches wide, and beneath it was a seat all made of moss,
+on which Robin sat down, placing the Sheriff at his right hand.
+"Now busk ye, my merry men all," quoth he, "and bring forth the best
+we have, both of meat and wine, for his worship the Sheriff hath
+feasted me in Nottingham Guild Hall today, and I would not have him
+go back empty."
+
+All this time nothing had been said of the Sheriff's money,
+so presently he began to pluck up heart.  "For," said he to himself,
+"maybe Robin Hood hath forgotten all about it."
+
+Then, while beyond in the forest bright fires crackled and savory
+smells of sweetly roasting venison and fat capons filled the glade,
+and brown pasties warmed beside the blaze, did Robin Hood
+entertain the Sheriff right royally.  First, several couples
+stood forth at quarterstaff, and so shrewd were they at the game,
+and so quickly did they give stroke and parry, that the Sheriff,
+who loved to watch all lusty sports of the kind, clapped his hands,
+forgetting where he was, and crying aloud, "Well struck!
+Well struck, thou fellow with the black beard!" little knowing
+that the man he called upon was the Tinker that tried to serve
+his warrant upon Robin Hood.
+
+Then several yeomen came forward and spread cloths upon
+the green grass, and placed a royal feast; while others still
+broached barrels of sack and Malmsey and good stout ale, and set
+them in jars upon the cloth, with drinking horns about them.
+Then all sat down and feasted and drank merrily together until
+the sun was low and the half-moon glimmered with a pale light
+betwixt the leaves of the trees overhead.
+
+Then the Sheriff arose and said, "I thank you all, good yeomen,
+for the merry entertainment ye have given me this day.
+Right courteously have ye used me, showing therein that ye
+have much respect for our glorious King and his deputy in
+brave Nottinghamshire.  But the shadows grow long, and I must away
+before darkness comes, lest I lose myself within the forest."
+
+Then Robin Hood and all his merry men arose also, and Robin said
+to the Sheriff, "If thou must go, worshipful sir, go thou must;
+but thou hast forgotten one thing."
+
+"Nay, I forgot nought," said the Sheriff; yet all the same his heart
+sank within him.
+
+"But I say thou hast forgot something," quoth Robin.  "We keep
+a merry inn here in the greenwood, but whoever becometh our guest
+must pay his reckoning."
+
+Then the Sheriff laughed, but the laugh was hollow.  "Well, jolly boys,"
+quoth he, "we have had a merry time together today, and even if ye had
+not asked me, I would have given you a score of pounds for the sweet
+entertainment I have had."
+
+"Nay," quoth Robin seriously, "it would ill beseem us to treat Your Worship
+so meanly.  By my faith, Sir Sheriff, I would be ashamed to show my
+face if I did not reckon the King's deputy at three hundred pounds.
+Is it not so, my merry men all?"
+
+Then "Ay!" cried all, in a loud voice.
+
+"Three hundred devils!" roared the Sheriff.  "Think ye that your beggarly
+feast was worth three pounds, let alone three hundred?"
+
+"Nay," quoth Robin gravely.  "Speak not so roundly, Your Worship.  I do love
+thee for the sweet feast thou hast given me this day in merry Nottingham Town;
+but there be those here who love thee not so much.  If thou wilt look down
+the cloth thou wilt see Will Stutely, in whose eyes thou hast no great favor;
+then two other stout fellows are there here that thou knowest not, that were
+wounded in a brawl nigh Nottingham Town, some time ago--thou wottest when;
+one of them was sore hurt in one arm, yet he hath got the use of it again.
+Good Sheriff, be advised by me; pay thy score without more ado, or maybe it
+may fare ill with thee."
+
+As he spoke the Sheriff's ruddy cheeks grew pale, and he said
+nothing more but looked upon the ground and gnawed his nether lip.
+Then slowly he drew forth his fat purse and threw it upon the cloth
+in front of him.
+
+"Now take the purse, Little John," quoth Robin Hood, "and see
+that the reckoning be right.  We would not doubt our Sheriff,
+but he might not like it if he should find he had not paid
+his full score."
+
+Then Little John counted the money and found that the bag held three
+hundred pounds in silver and gold.  But to the Sheriff it seemed as if
+every clink of the bright money was a drop of blood from his veins.
+And when he saw it all counted out in a heap of silver and gold,
+filling a wooden platter, he turned away and silently mounted his horse.
+
+"Never have we had so worshipful a guest before!" quoth Robin,
+"and, as the day waxeth late, I will send one of my young men
+to guide thee out of the forest depths."
+
+"Nay, Heaven forbid!" cried the Sheriff hastily.  "I can find mine own way,
+good man, without aid."
+
+"Then I will put thee on the right track mine own self,"
+quoth Robin, and, taking the Sheriff's horse by the bridle rein,
+he led him into the main forest path.  Then, before he let
+him go, he said, "Now, fare thee well, good Sheriff,
+and when next thou thinkest to despoil some poor prodigal,
+remember thy feast in Sherwood Forest.  `Ne'er buy a horse,
+good friend, without first looking into its mouth,' as our good
+gaffer Swanthold says.  And so, once more, fare thee well."
+Then he clapped his hand to the horse's back, and off went nag
+and Sheriff through the forest glades.
+
+Then bitterly the Sheriff rued the day that first he meddled
+with Robin Hood, for all men laughed at him and many ballads
+were sung by folk throughout the country, of how the Sheriff
+went to shear and came home shorn to the very quick.
+For thus men sometimes overreach themselves through greed and guile.
+
+
+
+Little John Goes to Nottingham Fair
+
+SPRING HAD GONE since the Sheriff's feast in Sherwood,
+and summer also, and the mellow month of October had come.
+All the air was cool and fresh; the harvests were gathered home,
+the young birds were full fledged, the hops were plucked,
+and apples were ripe.  But though time had so smoothed things over
+that men no longer talked of the horned beasts that the Sheriff
+wished to buy, he was still sore about the matter and could
+not bear to hear Robin Hood's name spoken in his presence.
+
+With October had come the time for holding the great Fair
+which was celebrated every five years at Nottingham Town,
+to which folk came from far and near throughout the country.
+At such times archery was always the main sport of the day,
+for the Nottinghamshire yeomen were the best hand at the longbow
+in all merry England, but this year the Sheriff hesitated
+a long time before he issued proclamation of the Fair,
+fearing lest Robin Hood and his band might come to it.
+At first he had a great part of a mind not to proclaim the Fair,
+but second thought told him that men would laugh at him and say
+among themselves that he was afraid of Robin Hood, so he put
+that thought by.  At last he fixed in his mind that he would
+offer such a prize as they would not care to shoot for.
+At such times it had been the custom to offer a half score
+of marks or a tun of ale, so this year he proclaimed that a prize
+of two fat steers should be given to the best bowman.
+
+When Robin Hood heard what had been proclaimed he was vexed,
+and said, "Now beshrew this Sheriff that he should offer such
+a prize that none but shepherd hinds will care to shoot for it!
+I would have loved nothing better than to have had another bout
+at merry Nottingham Town, but if I should win this prize nought
+would it pleasure or profit me."
+
+Then up spoke Little John:  "Nay, but hearken, good master,"
+said he, "only today Will Stutely, young David of Doncaster,
+and I were at the Sign of the Blue Boar, and there we heard
+all the news of this merry Fair, and also that the Sheriff hath
+offered this prize, that we of Sherwood might not care to come
+to the Fair; so, good master, if thou wilt, I would fain go
+and strive to win even this poor thing among the stout yeomen
+who will shoot at Nottingham Town."
+
+"Nay, Little John," quoth Robin, "thou art a sound stout fellow, yet thou
+lackest the cunning that good Stutely hath, and I would not have harm
+befall thee for all Nottinghamshire.  Nevertheless, if thou wilt go,
+take some disguise lest there be those there who may know thee."
+
+"So be it, good master," quoth Little John, "yet all the disguise that I
+wish is a good suit of scarlet instead of this of Lincoln green.
+I will draw the cowl of my jacket about my head so that it will hide
+my brown hair and beard, and then, I trust, no one will know me."
+
+"It is much against my will," said Robin Hood, "ne'ertheless, if thou
+dost wish it, get thee gone, but bear thyself seemingly, Little John,
+for thou art mine own right-hand man and I could ill bear to have
+harm befall thee."
+
+So Little John clad himself all in scarlet and started off to the Fair
+at Nottingham Town.
+
+Right merry were these Fair days at Nottingham, when the green before
+the great town gate was dotted with booths standing in rows, with tents
+of many-colored canvas, hung about with streamers and garlands of flowers,
+and the folk came from all the countryside, both gentle and common.
+In some booths there was dancing to merry music, in others flowed ale
+and beer, and in others yet again sweet cakes and barley sugar were sold;
+and sport was going outside the booths also, where some minstrel
+sang ballads of the olden time, playing a second upon the harp,
+or where the wrestlers struggled with one another within the sawdust ring,
+but the people gathered most of all around a raised platform where stout
+fellows played at quarterstaff.
+
+So Little John came to the Fair.  All scarlet were his hose and jerkin,
+and scarlet was his cowled cap, with a scarlet feather stuck in the side
+of it.  Over his shoulders was slung a stout bow of yew, and across his back
+hung a quiver of good round arrows.  Many turned to look after such a stout,
+tall fellow, for his shoulders were broader by a palm's-breadth than any
+that were there, and he stood a head taller than all the other men.
+The lasses, also, looked at him askance, thinking they had never seen
+a lustier youth.
+
+First of all he went to the booth where stout ale was sold and,
+standing aloft on a bench, he called to all that were near
+to come and drink with him.  "Hey, sweet lads!" cried he "who
+will drink ale with a stout yeoman?  Come, all!  Come, all!
+Let us be merry, for the day is sweet and the ale is tingling.
+Come hither, good yeoman, and thou, and thou; for not a farthing
+shall one of you pay.  Nay, turn hither, thou lusty beggar,
+and thou jolly tinker, for all shall be merry with me.
+
+Thus he shouted, and all crowded around, laughing, while the brown ale flowed;
+and they called Little John a brave fellow, each swearing that he loved him
+as his own brother; for when one has entertainment with nothing to pay,
+one loves the man that gives it to one.
+
+Then he strolled to the platform where they were at cudgel play,
+for he loved a bout at quarterstaff as he loved meat and drink;
+and here befell an adventure that was sung in ballads throughout
+the mid-country for many a day.
+
+One fellow there was that cracked crowns of everyone who threw
+cap into the ring.  This was Eric o' Lincoln, of great renown,
+whose name had been sung in ballads throughout the countryside.
+When Little John reached the stand he found none fighting,
+but only bold Eric walking up and down the platform,
+swinging his staff and shouting lustily, "Now, who will
+come and strike a stroke for the lass he loves the best,
+with a good Lincolnshire yeoman?  How now, lads?  Step up!
+Step up!  Or else the lasses' eyes are not bright hereabouts,
+or the blood of Nottingham youth is sluggish and cold.
+Lincoln against Nottingham, say I!  For no one hath put foot upon
+the boards this day such as we of Lincoln call a cudgel player."
+
+At this, one would nudge another with his elbow, saying, "Go thou, Ned!"
+or "Go thou, Thomas!" but no lad cared to gain a cracked crown for nothing.
+
+Presently Eric saw where Little John stood among the others,
+a head and shoulders above them all, and he called to
+him loudly, "Halloa, thou long-legged fellow in scarlet!
+Broad are thy shoulders and thick thy head; is not thy lass
+fair enough for thee to take cudgel in hand for her sake?
+In truth, I believe that Nottingham men do turn to bone and sinew,
+for neither heart nor courage have they!  Now, thou great lout,
+wilt thou not twirl staff for Nottingham?"
+
+"Ay," quoth Little John, "had I but mine own good staff here, it would
+pleasure me hugely to crack thy knave's pate, thou saucy braggart!
+I wot it would be well for thee an thy cock's comb were cut!"
+Thus he spoke, slowly at first, for he was slow to move; but his
+wrath gathered headway like a great stone rolling down a hill,
+so that at the end he was full of anger.
+
+Then Eric o' Lincoln laughed aloud.  "Well spoken for one who fears
+to meet me fairly, man to man," said he.  "Saucy art thou thine own self,
+and if thou puttest foot upon these boards, I will make thy saucy tongue
+rattle within thy teeth!"
+
+
+
+
+
+"Now," quoth Little John, "is there never a man here that will
+lend me a good stout staff till I try the mettle of yon fellow?"
+At this, half a score reached him their staves, and he took the stoutest
+and heaviest of them all.  Then, looking up and down the cudgel,
+he said, "Now, I have in my hand but a splint of wood--a barley straw,
+as it were--yet I trow it will have to serve me, so here goeth."
+Thereupon he cast the cudgel upon the stand and, leaping lightly after it,
+snatched it up in his hand again.
+
+Then each man stood in his place and measured the other with fell
+looks until he that directed the sport cried, "Play!"  At this they
+stepped forth, each grasping his staff tightly in the middle.
+Then those that stood around saw the stoutest game of quarterstaff
+that e'er Nottingham Town beheld.  At first Eric o' Lincoln thought
+that he would gain an easy advantage, so he came forth as if he would say,
+"Watch, good people, how that I carve you this cockerel right speedily";
+but he presently found it to be no such speedy matter.  Right deftly
+he struck, and with great skill of fence, but he had found his match
+in Little John.  Once, twice, thrice, he struck, and three times
+Little John turned the blows to the left hand and to the right.
+Then quickly and with a dainty backhanded blow, he rapped Eric
+beneath his guard so shrewdly that it made his head ring again.
+Then Eric stepped back to gather his wits, while a great shout went
+up and all were glad that Nottingham had cracked Lincoln's crown;
+and thus ended the first bout of the game.
+
+Then presently the director of the sport cried, "Play!" and they came
+together again; but now Eric played warily, for he found his man was of right
+good mettle, and also he had no sweet memory of the blow that he had got;
+so this bout neither Little John nor the Lincoln man caught a stroke
+within his guard.  Then, after a while, they parted again, and this made
+the second bout.
+
+Then for the third time they came together, and at first Eric strove
+to be wary, as he had been before; but, growing mad at finding
+himself so foiled, he lost his wits and began to rain blows so
+fiercely and so fast that they rattled like hail on penthouse roof;
+but, in spite of all, he did not reach within Little John's guard.
+Then at last Little John saw his chance and seized it right cleverly.
+Once more, with a quick blow, he rapped Eric beside the head,
+and ere he could regain himself, Little John slipped his right hand
+down to his left and, with a swinging blow, smote the other so sorely
+upon the crown that down he fell as though he would never move again.
+
+Then the people shouted so loud that folk came running from all
+about to see what was the ado; while Little John leaped down from
+the stand and gave the staff back to him that had lent it to him.
+And thus ended the famous bout between Little John and Eric o'
+Lincoln of great renown.
+
+But now the time had come when those who were to shoot with the
+longbow were to take their places, so the people began flocking
+to the butts where the shooting was to be.  Near the target,
+in a good place, sat the Sheriff upon a raised dais, with many
+gentlefolk around him.  When the archers had taken their places,
+the herald came forward and proclaimed the rules of the game,
+and how each should shoot three shots, and to him that should
+shoot the best the prize of two fat steers was to belong.
+A score of brave shots were gathered there, and among them some
+of the keenest hands at the longbow in Lincoln and Nottinghamshire;
+and among them Little John stood taller than all the rest.
+"Who is yon stranger clad all in scarlet?" said some, and others
+answered, "It is he that hath but now so soundly cracked the crown
+of Eric o' Lincoln."  Thus the people talked among themselves,
+until at last it reached even the Sheriff's ears.
+
+And now each man stepped forward and shot in turn; but though each shot well,
+Little John was the best of all, for three times he struck the clout, and once
+only the length of a barleycorn from the center.  "Hey for the tall archer!"
+shouted the crowd, and some among them shouted, "Hey for Reynold Greenleaf!"
+for this was the name that Little John had called himself that day.
+
+Then the Sheriff stepped down from the raised seat and came to where
+the archers stood, while all doffed their caps that saw him coming.
+He looked keenly at Little John but did not know him, though he said,
+after a while, "How now, good fellow, methinks there is that about thy
+face that I have seen erewhile."
+
+"Mayhap it may be so," quoth Little John, "for often have I seen
+Your Worship."  And, as he spoke, he looked steadily into the Sheriff's
+eyes so that the latter did not suspect who he was.
+
+"A brave blade art thou, good friend," said the Sheriff, "and I hear
+that thou hast well upheld the skill of Nottinghamshire against
+that of Lincoln this day.  What may be thy name, good fellow?"
+
+"Men do call me Reynold Greenleaf, Your Worship," said Little John;
+and the old ballad that tells of this, adds, "So, in truth, was he a
+green leaf, but of what manner of tree the Sheriff wotted not."
+
+"Now, Reynold Greenleaf," quoth the Sheriff, "thou art the fairest hand at
+the longbow that mine eyes ever beheld, next to that false knave, Robin Hood,
+from whose wiles Heaven forfend me!  Wilt thou join my service, good fellow?
+Thou shalt be paid right well, for three suits of clothes shalt thou have
+a year, with good food and as much ale as thou canst drink; and, besides this,
+I will pay thee forty marks each Michaelmastide."
+
+"Then here stand I a free man, and right gladly will I enter thy household,"
+said Little John, for he thought he might find some merry jest,
+should he enter the Sheriff's service.
+
+"Fairly hast thou won the fat steers," said the Sheriff,
+"and "hereunto I will add a butt of good March beer, for joy
+of having gotten such a man; for, I wot, thou shootest as fair
+a shaft as Robin Hood himself."
+
+"Then," said Little John, "for joy of having gotten myself into thy service,
+I will give fat steers and brown ale to all these good folk, to make them
+merry withal."  At this arose a great shout, many casting their caps aloft,
+for joy of the gift.
+
+Then some built great fires and roasted the steers, and others
+broached the butt of ale, with which all made themselves merry.
+Then, when they had eaten and drunk as much as they could,
+and when the day faded and the great moon arose, all red and round,
+over the spires and towers of Nottingham Town, they joined hands
+and danced around the fires, to the music of bagpipes and harps.
+But long before this merrymaking had begun, the Sheriff and his
+new servant Reynold Greenleaf were in the Castle of Nottingham.
+
+
+
+How Little John Lived at the Sheriff's
+
+THUS LITTLE JOHN entered into the Sheriff's service and
+found the life he led there easy enough, for the Sheriff
+made him his right-hand man and held him in great favor.
+He sat nigh the Sheriff at meat, and he ran beside his horse when
+he went a-hunting; so that, what with hunting and hawking a little,
+and eating rich dishes and drinking good sack, and sleeping until
+late hours in the morning, he grew as fat as a stall-fed ox.
+Thus things floated easily along with the tide, until one day
+when the Sheriff went a-hunting, there happened that which broke
+the smooth surface of things.
+
+This morning the Sheriff and many of his men set forth to meet
+certain lords, to go a-hunting. He looked all about him for his good man,
+Reynold Greenleaf, but, not finding him, was vexed, for he wished
+to show Little John's skill to his noble friends.  As for Little John,
+he lay abed, snoring lustily, till the sun was high in the heavens.
+At last he opened his eyes and looked about him but did not move to arise.
+Brightly shone the sun in at the window, and all the air was sweet
+with the scent of woodbine that hung in sprays about the wall without,
+for the cold winter was past and spring was come again, and Little John
+lay still, thinking how sweet was everything on this fair morn.
+Just then he heard, faint and far away, a distant bugle note sounding
+thin and clear.  The sound was small, but, like a little pebble dropped
+into a glassy fountain, it broke all the smooth surface of his thoughts,
+until his whole soul was filled with disturbance.  His spirit seemed
+to awaken from its sluggishness, and his memory brought back to him
+all the merry greenwood life--how the birds were singing blithely there
+this bright morning, and how his loved companions and friends were
+feasting and making merry, or perhaps talking of him with sober speech;
+for when he first entered the Sheriff's service he did so in jest;
+but the hearthstone was warm during the winter, and the fare was full,
+and so he had abided, putting off from day to day his going back
+to Sherwood, until six long months had passed.  But now he thought
+of his good master and of Will Stutely, whom he loved better than anyone
+in all the world, and of young David of Doncaster, whom he had trained
+so well in all manly sports, till there came over his heart a great
+and bitter longing for them all, so that his eyes filled with tears.
+Then he said aloud, "Here I grow fat like a stall-fed ox and all my
+manliness departeth from me while I become a sluggard and dolt.
+But I will arouse me and go back to mine own dear friends once more,
+and never will I leave them again till life doth leave my lips."
+So saying, he leaped from bed, for he hated his sluggishness now.
+
+When he came downstairs he saw the Steward standing near the pantry door--
+a great, fat man, with a huge bundle of keys hanging to his girdle.
+Then Little John said, "Ho, Master Steward, a hungry man am I, for nought
+have I had for all this blessed morn.  Therefore, give me to eat."
+
+Then the Steward looked grimly at him and rattled the keys
+in his girdle, for he hated Little John because he had found
+favor with the Sheriff.  "So, Master Reynold Greenleaf,
+thou art anhungered, art thou?" quoth he.  "But, fair youth,
+if thou livest long enough, thou wilt find that he who getteth
+overmuch sleep for an idle head goeth with an empty stomach.
+For what sayeth the old saw, Master Greenleaf?  Is it not `The
+late fowl findeth but ill faring'?"
+
+"Now, thou great purse of fat!" cried Little John, "I ask
+thee not for fool's wisdom, but for bread and meat.
+Who art thou, that thou shouldst deny me to eat?
+By Saint Dunstan, thou hadst best tell me where my breakfast is,
+if thou wouldst save broken bones!"
+
+"Thy breakfast, Master Fireblaze, is in the pantry," answered the Steward.
+
+"Then fetch it hither!" cried Little John, who waxed angry by this time.
+
+"Go thou and fetch it thine own self," quoth the Steward.  "Am I thy slave,
+to fetch and carry for thee?"
+
+"I say, go thou, bring it me!"
+
+"I say, go thou, fetch it for thyself!"
+
+"Ay, marry, that will I, right quickly!" quoth Little John in a rage.
+And, so saying, he strode to the pantry and tried to open the door
+but found it locked, whereat the Steward laughed and rattled his keys.
+Then the wrath of Little John boiled over, and, lifting his clenched fist,
+he smote the pantry door, bursting out three panels and making so large
+an opening that he could easily stoop and walk through it.
+
+When the Steward saw what was done, he waxed mad with rage;
+and, as Little John stooped to look within the pantry,
+he seized him from behind by the nape of the neck, pinching him
+sorely and smiting him over the head with his keys till
+the yeoman's ears rang again.  At this Little John turned upon
+the Steward and smote him such a buffet that the fat man fell
+to the floor and lay there as though he would never move again.
+"There," quoth Little John, "think well of that stroke and never
+keep a good breakfast from a hungry man again."
+
+So saying, he crept into the pantry and looked about him
+to see if he could find something to appease his hunger.
+He saw a great venison pasty and two roasted capons, beside which
+was a platter of plover's eggs; moreover, there was a flask
+of sack and one of canary--a sweet sight to a hungry man.
+These he took down from the shelves and placed upon a sideboard,
+and prepared to make himself merry.
+
+Now the Cook, in the kitchen across the courtyard, heard the loud
+talking between Little John and the Steward, and also the blow
+that Little John struck the other, so he came running across
+the court and up the stairway to where the Steward's pantry was,
+bearing in his hands the spit with the roast still upon it.
+Meanwhile the Steward had gathered his wits about him and risen
+to his feet, so that when the Cook came to the Steward's pantry
+he saw him glowering through the broken door at Little John,
+who was making ready for a good repast, as one dog glowers
+at another that has a bone.  When the Steward saw the Cook,
+he came to him, and, putting one arm over his shoulder,
+"Alas, sweet friend!" quoth he--for the Cook was a tall,
+stout man--"seest thou what that vile knave Reynold Greenleaf
+hath done?  He hath broken in upon our master's goods, and hath
+smitten me a buffet upon the ear, so that I thought I was dead.
+Good Cook, I love thee well, and thou shalt have a good pottle
+of our master's best wine every day, for thou art an old
+and faithful servant.  Also, good Cook, I have ten shillings
+that I mean to give as a gift to thee.  But hatest thou not
+to see a vile upstart like this Reynold Greenleaf taking it
+upon him so bravely?"
+
+"Ay, marry, that do I," quoth the Cook boldly, for he liked the Steward
+because of his talk of the wine and of the ten shillings.  "Get thee gone
+straightway to thy room, and I will bring out this knave by his ears."
+So saying, he laid aside his spit and drew the sword that hung by his side;
+whereupon the Steward left as quickly as he could, for he hated the sight
+of naked steel.
+
+Then the Cook walked straightway to the broken pantry door,
+through which he saw Little John tucking a napkin beneath his
+chin and preparing to make himself merry.
+
+"Why, how now, Reynold Greenleaf?" said the Cook, "thou art no better
+than a thief, I wot.  Come thou straight forth, man, or I will carve
+thee as I would carve a sucking pig."
+
+"Nay, good Cook, bear thou thyself more seemingly, or else I will
+come forth to thy dole.  At most times I am as a yearling lamb,
+but when one cometh between me and my meat, I am a raging lion,
+as it were."
+
+"Lion or no lion," quoth the valorous Cook, "come thou straight forth,
+else thou art a coward heart as well as a knavish thief."
+
+"Ha!" cried Little John, "coward's name have I never had;
+so, look to thyself, good Cook, for I come forth straight,
+the roaring lion I did speak of but now."
+
+Then he, too, drew his sword and came out of the pantry;
+then, putting themselves into position, they came slowly together,
+with grim and angry looks; but suddenly Little John lowered his point.
+"Hold, good Cook!" said he.  "Now, I bethink me it were ill of us
+to fight with good victuals standing so nigh, and such a feast
+as would befit two stout fellows such as we are.  Marry, good friend,
+I think we should enjoy this fair feast ere we fight.
+What sayest thou, jolly Cook?"
+
+At this speech the Cook looked up and down, scratching his head
+in doubt, for he loved good feasting.  At last he drew a long
+breath and said to Little John, "Well, good friend, I like thy plan
+right well; so, pretty boy, say I, let us feast, with all my heart,
+for one of us may sup in Paradise before nightfall."
+
+So each thrust his sword back into the scabbard and entered the pantry.
+Then, after they had seated themselves, Little John drew his
+dagger and thrust it into the pie.  "A hungry man must be fed,"
+quoth he, "so, sweet chuck, I help myself without leave."
+But the Cook did not lag far behind, for straightway his hands
+also were deeply thrust within the goodly pasty.  After this,
+neither of them spoke further, but used their teeth to better purpose.
+But though neither spoke, they looked at one another, each thinking
+within himself that he had never seen a more lusty fellow than
+the one across the board.
+
+At last, after a long time had passed, the Cook drew
+a full, deep breath, as though of much regret, and wiped
+his hands upon the napkin, for he could eat no more.
+Little John, also, had enough, for he pushed the pasty aside,
+as though he would say, "I want thee by me no more, good friend."
+Then he took the pottle of sack, and said he, "Now, good fellow,
+I swear by all that is bright, that thou art the stoutest
+companion at eating that ever I had.  Lo!  I drink thy health."
+So saying, he clapped the flask to his lips and cast
+his eyes aloft, while the good wine flooded his throat.
+Then he passed the pottle to the Cook, who also said, "Lo, I
+drink thy health, sweet fellow!"  Nor was he behind Little John
+in drinking any more than in eating.
+
+"Now," quoth Little John, "thy voice is right round and sweet, jolly lad.
+I doubt not thou canst sing a ballad most blithely; canst thou not?"
+
+"Truly, I have trolled one now and then," quoth the Cook,
+"yet I would not sing alone."
+
+"Nay, truly," said Little John, "that were but ill courtesy.
+Strike up thy ditty, and I will afterward sing one to match it,
+if I can.
+
+"So be it, pretty boy," quoth the Cook.  "And hast thou e'er heard the song
+of the Deserted Shepherdess?"
+
+"Truly, I know not," answered Little John, "but sing thou and let me hear."
+
+Then the Cook took another draught from the pottle, and, clearing his throat,
+sang right sweetly:
+
+
+THE SONG OF THE DESERTED SHEPHERDESS
+
+ "_In Lententime, when leaves wax green,
+     And pretty birds begin to mate,
+ When lark cloth sing, and thrush, I ween,
+     And stockdove cooeth soon and late,
+ Fair Phillis sat beside a stone,
+ And thus I heard her make her moan:
+     'O willow, willow, willow, willow!
+ I'll take me of thy branches fair
+ And twine a wreath to deck my hair.
+
+ " `The thrush hath taken him a she,
+     The robin, too, and eke the dove;
+ My Robin hath deserted me,
+     And left me for another love.
+ So here, by brookside, all alone,
+ I sit me down and make my moan.
+     O willow, willow, willow, willow!
+ I'll take me of thy branches fair
+ And twine a wreath to deck my hair.'
+
+ "But ne'er came herring from the sea,
+     But good as he were in the tide;
+ Young Corydon came o'er the lea,
+     And sat him Phillis down beside.
+ So, presently, she changed her tone,
+ And 'gan to cease her from her moan,
+     'O willow, willow, willow, willow!
+ Thou mayst e'en keep thy garlands fair,
+ I want them not to deck my hair_.' "
+
+
+"Now, by my faith," cried Little John, "that same is a right good song,
+and hath truth in it, also."
+
+"Glad am I thou likest it, sweet lad," said the Cook.  "Now sing
+thou one also, for ne'er should a man be merry alone, or sing
+and list not."
+
+"Then I will sing thee a song of a right good knight of Arthur's court,
+and how he cured his heart's wound without running upon the dart again, as did
+thy Phillis; for I wot she did but cure one smart by giving herself another.
+So, list thou while I sing:
+
+
+THE GOOD KNIGHT AND HIS LOVE
+
+ "_When Arthur, King, did rule this land,
+     A goodly king was he,
+ And had he of stout knights a band
+     Of merry company.
+
+ "Among them all, both great and small,
+     A good stout knight was there,
+ A lusty childe, and eke a tall,
+     That loved a lady fair.
+
+ "But nought would she to do with he,
+     But turned her face away;
+ So gat he gone to far countrye,
+     And left that lady gay.
+
+ "There all alone he made his moan,
+     And eke did sob and sigh,
+ And weep till it would move a stone,
+     And he was like to die.
+
+ "But still his heart did feel the smart,
+     And eke the dire distress,
+ And rather grew his pain more sharp
+     As grew his body less.
+
+ "Then gat he back where was good sack
+     And merry com panye,
+ And soon did cease to cry `Alack!'
+     When blithe and gay was he.
+
+ "From which I hold, and feel full bold
+     To say, and eke believe,
+ That gin the belly go not cold
+     The heart will cease to grieve_."
+
+
+"Now, by my faith," cried the Cook, as he rattled the pottle against
+the sideboard, "I like that same song hugely, and eke the motive of it,
+which lieth like a sweet kernel in a hazelnut"
+
+"Now thou art a man of shrewd opinions," quoth Little John,
+"and I love thee truly as thou wert my brother."
+
+"And I love thee, too.  But the day draweth on, and I have my cooking
+to do ere our master cometh home; so let us e'en go and settle this
+brave fight we have in hand."
+
+"Ay, marry," quoth Little John, "and that right speedily.
+Never have I been more laggard in fighting than in eating and drinking.
+So come thou straight forth into the passageway, where there
+is good room to swing a sword, and I will try to serve thee."
+
+Then they both stepped forth into the broad passage that led
+to the Steward's pantry, where each man drew his sword again
+and without more ado fell upon the other as though he would hew
+his fellow limb from limb.  Then their swords clashed upon one
+another with great din, and sparks flew from each blow in showers.
+So they fought up and down the hall for an hour and more, neither
+striking the other a blow, though they strove their best to do so;
+for both were skillful at the fence; so nothing came of all their labor.
+Ever and anon they rested, panting; then, after getting
+their wind, at it they would go again more fiercely than ever.
+At last Little John cried aloud, "Hold, good Cook!" whereupon each
+rested upon his sword, panting.
+
+"Now will I make my vow," quoth Little John, "thou art the very best
+swordsman that ever mine eyes beheld.  Truly, I had thought to carve
+thee ere now."
+
+"And I had thought to do the same by thee," quoth the Cook,
+"but I have missed the mark somehow."
+
+"Now I have been thinking within myself," quoth Little John,
+"what we are fighting for; but albeit I do not rightly know."
+
+"Why, no more do I," said the Cook.  "I bear no love for that pursy Steward,
+but I thought that we had engaged to fight with one another and that it
+must be done."
+
+"Now," quoth Little John, "it doth seem to me that instead
+of striving to cut one another's throats, it were better for us
+to be boon companions.  What sayst thou, jolly Cook, wilt thou
+go with me to Sherwood Forest and join with Robin Hood's band?
+Thou shalt live a merry life within the woodlands, and sevenscore
+good companions shalt thou have, one of whom is mine own self.
+Thou shalt have three suits of Lincoln green each year,
+and forty marks in pay."
+
+"Now, thou art a man after mine own heart!" cried the Cook right heartily,
+"and, as thou speakest of it, that is the very service for me.
+I will go with thee, and that right gladly.  Give me thy palm,
+sweet fellow, and I will be thine own companion from henceforth.
+What may be thy name, lad?"
+
+"Men do call me Little John, good fellow."
+
+"How?  And art thou indeed Little John, and Robin Hood's own right-hand man?
+Many a time and oft I heard of thee, but never did I hope to set eyes
+upon thee.  And thou art indeed the famous Little John!"  And the Cook
+seemed lost in amazement, and looked upon his companion with open eyes.
+
+"I am Little John, indeed, and I will bring to Robin Hood
+this day a right stout fellow to join his merry band.
+But ere we go, good friend, it seemeth to me to be a vast
+pity that, as we have had so much of the Sheriff's food,
+we should not also carry off some of his silver plate to Robin Hood,
+as a present from his worship."
+
+"Ay, marry is it," said the Cook.  And so they began hunting about,
+and took as much silver as they could lay hands upon, clapping it into a bag,
+and when they had filled the sack they set forth to Sherwood Forest.
+
+Plunging into the woods, they came at last to the greenwood tree,
+where they found Robin Hood and threescore of his merry men lying upon
+the fresh green grass.  When Robin and his men saw who it was that came,
+they leaped to their feet.  "Now welcome!" cried Robin Hood.  "Now welcome,
+Little John!  For long hath it been since we have heard from thee,
+though we all knew that thou hadst joined the Sheriff's service.
+And how hast thou fared all these long days?"
+
+"Right merrily have I lived at the Lord Sheriff's," answered Little John,
+"and I have come straight thence.  See, good master!
+I have brought thee his cook, and even his silver plate."
+Thereupon he told Robin Hood and his merry men that were there,
+all that had befallen him since he had left them to go to the Fair
+at Nottingham Town.  Then all shouted with laughter, except Robin Hood;
+but he looked grave.
+
+"Nay, Little John," said he, "thou art a brave blade and a trusty fellow.
+I am glad thou hast brought thyself back to us, and with such a good
+companion as the Cook, whom we all welcome to Sherwood.  But I like not
+so well that thou hast stolen the Sheriff's plate like some paltry thief.
+The Sheriff hath been punished by us, and hath lost three hundred pounds,
+even as he sought to despoil another; but he hath done nought that we
+should steal his household plate from him.
+
+Though Little John was vexed with this, he strove to pass
+it off with a jest.  "Nay, good master," quoth he, "if thou
+thinkest the Sheriff gave us not the plate, I will fetch him,
+that he may tell us with his own lips he giveth it all to us."
+So saying he leaped to his feet, and was gone before Robin
+could call him back.
+
+Little John ran for full five miles till he came to where the Sheriff
+of Nottingham and a gay company were hunting near the forest.
+When Little John came to the Sheriff he doffed his cap and bent his knee.
+"God save thee, good master," quoth he.
+
+"Why, Reynold Greenleaf!" cried the Sheriff, "whence comest thou
+and where hast thou been?"
+
+"I have been in the forest," answered Little John, speaking amazedly,
+"and there I saw a sight such as ne'er before man's eyes beheld!
+Yonder I saw a young hart all in green from top to toe, and about him was a
+herd of threescore deer, and they, too, were all of green from head to foot.
+Yet I dared not shoot, good master, for fear lest they should slay me."
+
+"Why, how now, Reynold Greenleaf," cried the Sheriff, "art thou dreaming
+or art thou mad, that thou dost bring me such, a tale?"
+
+"Nay, I am not dreaming nor am I mad," said Little John,
+"and if thou wilt come with me, I will show thee this fair sight,
+for I have seen it with mine own eyes.  But thou must come alone,
+good master, lest the others frighten them and they get away."
+
+So the party all rode forward, and Little John led them downward
+into the forest.
+
+"Now, good master," quoth he at last, "we are nigh where I saw this herd."
+
+Then the Sheriff descended from his horse and bade them wait for him until
+he should return; and Little John led him forward through a close copse until
+suddenly they came to a great open glade, at the end of which Robin Hood sat
+beneath the shade of the great oak tree, with his merry men all about him.
+"See, good Master Sheriff," quoth Little John, "yonder is the hart of which I
+spake to thee."
+
+At this the Sheriff turned to Little John and said bitterly,
+"Long ago I thought I remembered thy face, but now I know thee.
+Woe betide thee, Little John, for thou hast betrayed me this day."
+
+In the meantime Robin Hood had come to them.  "Now welcome, Master Sheriff,"
+said he.  "Hast thou come today to take another feast with me?"
+
+"Nay, Heaven forbid!" said the Sheriff in tones of deep earnest.
+"I care for no feast and have no hunger today."
+
+"Nevertheless," quoth Robin, "if thou hast no hunger, maybe thou
+hast thirst, and well I know thou wilt take a cup of sack with me.
+But I am grieved that thou wilt not feast with me, for thou couldst
+have victuals to thy liking, for there stands thy Cook."
+
+Then he led the Sheriff, willy-nilly, to the seat he knew so well beneath
+the greenwood tree.
+
+"Ho, lads!" cried Robin, "fill our good friend the Sheriff a right brimming
+cup of sack and fetch it hither, for he is faint and weary."
+
+Then one of the band brought the Sheriff a cup of sack, bowing low
+as he handed it to him; but the Sheriff could not touch the wine,
+for he saw it served in one of his own silver flagons, on one of his
+own silver plates.
+
+"How now," quoth Robin, "dost thou not like our new silver service?
+We have gotten a bag of it this day."  So saying, he held up the sack
+of silver that Little John and the Cook had brought with them.
+
+Then the Sheriff's heart was bitter within him; but, not
+daring to say anything, he only gazed upon the ground.
+Robin looked keenly at him for a time before he spoke again.
+Then said he, "Now, Master Sheriff, the last time thou camest to
+Sherwood Forest thou didst come seeking to despoil a poor spendthrift,
+and thou wert despoiled thine own self; but now thou comest seeking
+to do no harm, nor do I know that thou hast despoiled any man.
+I take my tithes from fat priests and lordly squires, to help
+those that they despoil and to raise up those that they bow down;
+but I know not that thou hast tenants of thine own whom thou
+hast wronged in any way.  Therefore, take thou thine own again,
+nor will I dispossess thee today of so much as one farthing.
+Come with me, and I will lead thee from the forest back to thine
+own party again."
+
+Then, slinging the bag upon his shoulder, he turned away,
+the Sheriff following him, all too perplexed in mind to speak.
+So they went forward until they came to within a furlong of
+the spot where the Sheriff's companions were waiting for him.
+Then Robin Hood gave the sack of silver back to the Sheriff.
+"Take thou thine own again," he said, "and hearken to me,
+good Sheriff, take thou a piece of advice with it.
+Try thy servants well ere thou dost engage them again so readily."
+Then, turning, he left the other standing bewildered,
+with the sack in his hands.
+
+The company that waited for the Sheriff were all amazed to see him
+come out of the forest bearing a heavy sack upon his shoulders;
+but though they questioned him, he answered never a word,
+acting like one who walks in a dream.  Without a word, he placed
+the bag across his nag's back and then, mounting, rode away,
+all following him; but all the time there was a great turmoil
+of thoughts within his head, tumbling one over the other.
+And thus ends the merry tale of Little John and how he entered
+the Sheriff's service.
+
+
+
+Little John and the Tanner of Blyth
+
+ONE FINE DAY, not long after Little John had left abiding with the Sheriff
+and had come back, with his worship's cook, to the merry greenwood,
+as has just been told, Robin Hood and a few chosen fellows of his band
+lay upon the soft sward beneath the greenwood tree where they dwelled.
+The day was warm and sultry, so that while most of the band were
+scattered through the forest upon this mission and upon that,
+these few stout fellows lay lazily beneath the shade of the tree,
+in the soft afternoon, passing jests among themselves and telling
+merry stories, with laughter and mirth.
+
+All the air was laden with the bitter fragrance of the May,
+and all the bosky shades of the woodlands beyond rang with the sweet
+song of birds--the throstle cock, the cuckoo, and the wood pigeon--
+and with the song of birds mingled the cool sound of the gurgling brook
+that leaped out of the forest shades, and ran fretting amid its rough,
+gray stones across the sunlit open glade before the trysting tree.
+And a fair sight was that halfscore of tall, stout yeomen, all clad
+in Lincoln green, lying beneath the broad-spreading branches of
+the great oak tree, amid the quivering leaves of which the sunlight
+shivered and fell in dancing patches upon the grass.
+
+Suddenly Robin Hood smote his knee.
+
+"By Saint Dunstan," quoth he, "I had nigh forgot that quarter-day
+cometh on apace, and yet no cloth of Lincoln green in all our store.
+It must be looked to, and that in quick season.  Come, busk thee,
+Little John!  Stir those lazy bones of thine, for thou must get
+thee straightway to our good gossip, the draper Hugh Longshanks
+of Ancaster.  Bid him send us straightway twentyscore yards of fair
+cloth of Lincoln green; and mayhap the journey may take some of
+the fat from off thy bones, that thou hast gotten from lazy living
+at our dear Sheriff's."
+
+"Nay," muttered Little John (for he had heard so much upon this
+score that he was sore upon the point), "nay, truly, mayhap I have
+more flesh upon my joints than I once had, yet, flesh or no flesh,
+I doubt not that I could still hold my place and footing upon a narrow
+bridge against e'er a yeoman in Sherwood, or Nottinghamshire,
+for the matter of that, even though he had no more fat about his
+bones than thou hast, good master."
+
+At this reply a great shout of laughter went up, and all looked at Robin Hood,
+for each man knew that Little John spake of a certain fight that happened
+between their master and himself, through which they first became acquainted.
+
+"Nay," quoth Robin Hood, laughing louder than all.  "Heaven forbid
+that I should doubt thee, for I care for no taste of thy staff myself,
+Little John.  I must needs own that there are those of my band
+can handle a seven-foot staff more deftly than I; yet no man
+in all Nottinghamshire can draw gray goose shaft with my fingers.
+Nevertheless, a journey to Ancaster may not be ill for thee;
+so go thou, as I bid, and thou hadst best go this very evening,
+for since thou hast abided at the Sheriff's many know thy face,
+and if thou goest in broad daylight, thou mayst get thyself
+into a coil with some of his worship's men-at-arms. Bide thou
+here till I bring thee money to pay our good Hugh.  I warrant
+he hath no better customers in all Nottinghamshire than we."
+So saying, Robin left them and entered the forest.
+
+Not far from the trysting tree was a great rock in which a chamber had been
+hewn, the entrance being barred by a massive oaken door two palms'-breadth
+in thickness, studded about with spikes, and fastened with a great padlock.
+This was the treasure house of the band, and thither Robin Hood went and,
+unlocking the door, entered the chamber, from which he brought forth a bag
+of gold which he gave to Little John, to pay Hugh Longshanks withal,
+for the cloth of Lincoln green.
+
+Then up got Little John, and, taking the bag of gold, which he
+thrust into his bosom, he strapped a girdle about his loins,
+took a stout pikestaff full seven feet long in his hand,
+and set forth upon his journey.
+
+So he strode whistling along the leafy forest path that led
+to Fosse Way, turning neither to the right hand nor the left,
+until at last he came to where the path branched, leading on
+the one hand onward to Fosse Way, and on the other, as well
+Little John knew, to the merry Blue Boar Inn.  Here Little John
+suddenly ceased whistling and stopped in the middle of the path.
+First he looked up and then he looked down, and then, tilting his
+cap over one eye, he slowly scratched the back part of his head.
+For thus it was:  at the sight of these two roads, two voices
+began to alarum within him, the one crying, "There lies the road
+to the Blue Boar Inn, a can of brown October, and a merry night
+with sweet companions such as thou mayst find there"; the other,
+"There lies the way to Ancaster and the duty thou art sent upon."
+Now the first of these two voices was far the louder,
+for Little John had grown passing fond of good living through
+abiding at the Sheriff's house; so, presently, looking up
+into the blue sky, across which bright clouds were sailing
+like silver boats, and swallows skimming in circling flight,
+quoth he, "I fear me it will rain this evening, so I'll e'en stop
+at the Blue Boar till it passes by, for I know my good master
+would not have me wet to the skin."  So, without more ado,
+off he strode down the path that lay the way of his likings.
+Now there was no sign of any foul weather, but when one wishes
+to do a thing, as Little John did, one finds no lack of reasons
+for the doing.
+
+Four merry wags were at the Blue Boar Inn; a butcher, a beggar,
+and two barefoot friars.  Little John heard them singing from afar,
+as he walked through the hush of the mellow twilight that was now falling
+over hill and dale.  Right glad were they to welcome such a merry
+blade as Little John.  Fresh cans of ale were brought, and with jest
+and song and merry tales the hours slipped away on fleeting wings.
+None thought of time or tide till the night was so far gone that Little John
+put by the thought of setting forth upon his journey again that night,
+and so bided at the Blue Boar Inn until the morrow.
+
+Now it was an ill piece of luck for Little John that he left
+his duty for his pleasure, and he paid a great score for it,
+as we are all apt to do in the same case, as you shall see.
+
+Up he rose at the dawn of the next day, and, taking his stout
+pikestaff in his hand, he set forth upon his journey once more,
+as though he would make up for lost time.
+
+In the good town of Blyth there lived a stout tanner, celebrated far and near
+for feats of strength and many tough bouts at wrestling and the quarterstaff.
+For five years he had held the mid-country champion belt for wrestling,
+till the great Adam o' Lincoln cast him in the ring and broke one of his ribs;
+but at quarterstaff he had never yet met his match in all the country about.
+Besides all this, he dearly loved the longbow, and a sly jaunt in the forest
+when the moon was full and the dun deer in season; so that the King's rangers
+kept a shrewd eye upon him and his doings, for Arthur a Bland's house was apt
+to have aplenty of meat in it that was more like venison than the law allowed.
+
+Now Arthur had been to Nottingham Town the day before Little John set
+forth on his errand, there to sell a halfscore of tanned cowhides.
+At the dawn of the same day that Little John left the inn,
+he started from Nottingham, homeward for Blyth.  His way led,
+all in the dewy morn, past the verge of Sherwood Forest, where the birds
+were welcoming the lovely day with a great and merry jubilee.
+Across the Tanner's shoulders was slung his stout quarterstaff,
+ever near enough to him to be gripped quickly, and on his head was
+a cap of doubled cowhide, so tough that it could hardly be cloven
+even by a broadsword.
+
+"Now," quoth Arthur a Bland to himself, when he had come to
+that part of the road that cut through a corner of the forest,
+"no doubt at this time of year the dun deer are coming
+from the forest depths nigher to the open meadow lands.
+Mayhap I may chance to catch a sight of the dainty brown
+darlings thus early in the morn."  For there was nothing
+he loved better than to look upon a tripping herd of deer,
+even when he could not tickle their ribs with a clothyard shaft.
+Accordingly, quitting the path, he went peeping this way
+and that through the underbrush, spying now here and now there,
+with all the wiles of a master of woodcraft, and of one who had
+more than once donned a doublet of Lincoln green.
+
+Now as Little John stepped blithely along, thinking of nothing but of such
+things as the sweetness of the hawthorn buds that bedecked the hedgerows,
+or gazing upward at the lark, that, springing from the dewy grass,
+hung aloft on quivering wings in the yellow sunlight, pouring forth
+its song that fell like a falling star from the sky, his luck led him
+away from the highway, not far from the spot where Arthur a Bland
+was peeping this way and that through the leaves of the thickets.
+Hearing a rustling of the branches, Little John stopped and presently
+caught sight of the brown cowhide cap of the Tanner moving among the bushes
+
+"I do much wonder," quoth Little John to himself, "what yon knave
+is after, that he should go thus peeping and peering about I
+verily believe that yon scurvy varlet is no better than a thief,
+and cometh here after our own and the good King's dun deer."
+For by much roving in the forest, Little John had come to look upon
+all the deer in Sherwood as belonging to Robin Hood and his band
+as much as to good King Harry.  "Nay," quoth he again, after a time,
+"this matter must e'en be looked into."  So, quitting the highroad,
+he also entered the thickets, and began spying around after stout
+Arthur a Bland.
+
+So for a long time they both of them went hunting about,
+Little John after the Tanner, and the Tanner after the deer.
+At last Little John trod upon a stick, which snapped under
+his foot, whereupon, hearing the noise, the Tanner turned
+quickly and caught sight of the yeoman.  Seeing that the Tanner
+had spied him out, Little John put a bold face upon the matter.
+
+"Hilloa," quoth he, "what art thou doing here, thou naughty fellow?
+Who art thou that comest ranging Sherwood's paths?
+In very sooth thou hast an evil cast of countenance,
+and I do think, truly, that thou art no better than a thief,
+and comest after our good King's deer."
+
+"Nay," quoth the Tanner boldly--for, though taken by surprise, he was
+not a man to be frightened by big words--"thou liest in thy teeth.
+I am no thief, but an honest craftsman.  As for my countenance, it is
+what it is; and, for the matter of that, thine own is none too pretty,
+thou saucy fellow."
+
+"Ha!" quoth Little John in a great loud voice, "wouldst thou give
+me backtalk?  Now I have a great part of a mind to crack thy pate
+for thee.  I would have thee know, fellow, that I am, as it were,
+one of the King's foresters.  Leastwise," muttered he to himself,
+"I and my friends do take good care of our good sovereign's deer."
+
+"I care not who thou art," answered the bold Tanner, "and unless
+thou hast many more of thy kind by thee, thou canst never make
+Arthur a Bland cry `A mercy.'  "
+
+"Is it so?" cried Little John in a rage.  "Now, by my faith,
+thou saucy rogue, thy tongue hath led thee into a pit thou
+wilt have a sorry time getting out of; for I will give thee
+such a drubbing as ne'er hast thou had in all thy life before.
+Take thy staff in thy hand, fellow, for I will not smite
+an unarmed man.
+
+"Marry come up with a murrain!" cried the Tanner, for he, too, had talked
+himself into a fume.  "Big words ne'er killed so much as a mouse.
+Who art thou that talkest so freely of cracking the head
+of Arthur a Bland?  If I do not tan thy hide this day as ne'er
+I tanned a calf's hide in all my life before, split my staff
+into skewers for lamb's flesh and call me no more brave man!
+Now look to thyself, fellow!"
+
+"Stay!" said Little John.  "Let us first measure our cudgels.
+I do reckon my staff longer than thine, and I would not take
+vantage of thee by even so much as an inch."
+
+"Nay, I pass not for length," answered the Tanner.  "My staff is long enough
+to knock down a calf; so look to thyself, fellow, I say again."
+
+So, without more ado, each gripped his staff in the middle, and, with fell
+and angry looks, they came slowly together.
+
+
+Now news had been brought to Robin Hood how that Little John, instead of
+doing his bidding, had passed by duty for pleasure, and so had stopped
+overnight with merry company at the Blue Boar Inn, instead of going
+straight to Ancaster.  So, being vexed to his heart by this, he set forth
+at dawn of day to seek Little John at the Blue Boar, or at least to meet
+the yeoman on the way, and ease his heart of what he thought of the matter.
+As thus he strode along in anger, putting together the words he would
+use to chide Little John, he heard, of a sudden, loud and angry voices,
+as of men in a rage, passing fell words back and forth from one to the other.
+At this, Robin Hood stopped and listened.  "Surely," quoth he to himself,
+"that is Little John's voice, and he is talking in anger also.
+Methinks the other is strange to my ears.  Now Heaven forfend that my good
+trusty Little John should have fallen into the hands of the King's rangers.
+I must see to this matter, and that quickly."
+
+Thus spoke Robin Hood to himself, all his anger passing away
+like a breath from the windowpane, at the thought that perhaps
+his trusty right-hand man was in some danger of his life.
+So cautiously he made his way through the thickets whence
+the voices came, and, pushing aside the leaves, peeped into
+the little open space where the two men, staff in hand,
+were coming slowly together.
+
+"Ha!" quoth Robin to himself, "here is merry sport afoot.
+Now I would give three golden angels from my own pocket if yon
+stout fellow would give Little John a right sound drubbing!
+It would please me to see him well thumped for having failed
+in my bidding.  I fear me, though, there is but poor chance
+of my seeing such a pleasant sight."  So saying, he stretched
+himself at length upon the ground, that he might not only see
+the sport the better, but that he might enjoy the merry sight
+at his ease.
+
+As you may have seen two dogs that think to fight, walking slowly
+round and round each other, neither cur wishing to begin the combat,
+so those two stout yeomen moved slowly around, each watching for a
+chance to take the other unaware, and so get in the first blow.
+At last Little John struck like a flash, and--"rap!"--the Tanner met
+the blow and turned it aside, and then smote back at Little John,
+who also turned the blow; and so this mighty battle began.
+Then up and down and back and forth they trod, the blows falling
+so thick and fast that, at a distance, one would have thought that half
+a score of men were fighting.  Thus they fought for nigh a half an hour,
+until the ground was all plowed up with the digging of their heels,
+and their breathing grew labored like the ox in the furrow.
+But Little John suffered the most, for he had become unused to such
+stiff labor, and his joints were not as supple as they had been
+before he went to dwell with the Sheriff.
+
+All this time Robin Hood lay beneath the bush, rejoicing at such
+a comely bout of quarterstaff.  "By my faith!" quoth he to himself,
+"never had I thought to see Little John so evenly matched in all my life.
+Belike, though, he would have overcome yon fellow before this had he been
+in his former trim."
+
+At last Little John saw his chance, and, throwing all the
+strength he felt going from him into one blow that might have
+felled an ox, he struck at the Tanner with might and main.
+And now did the Tanner's cowhide cap stand him in good stead,
+and but for it he might never have held staff in hand again.
+As it was, the blow he caught beside the head was so shrewd
+that it sent him staggering across the little glade, so that,
+if Little John had had the strength to follow up his vantage,
+it would have been ill for stout Arthur.  But he regained himself
+quickly and, at arm's length, struck back a blow at Little John,
+and this time the stroke reached its mark, and down went Little John
+at full length, his cudgel flying from his hand as he fell.
+Then, raising his staff, stout Arthur dealt him another blow
+upon the ribs.
+
+"Hold!" roared Little John.  "Wouldst thou strike a man when he is down?"
+
+"Ay, marry would I," quoth the Tanner, giving him another thwack
+with his staff.
+
+"Stop!" roared Little John.  "Help!  Hold, I say!  I yield me!
+I yield me, I say, good fellow!"
+
+"Hast thou had enough?" asked the Tanner grimly, holding his staff aloft.
+
+"Ay, marry, and more than enough."
+
+"And thou dost own that I am the better man of the two?"
+
+"Yea, truly, and a murrain seize thee!" said Little John,
+the first aloud and the last to his beard.
+
+"Then thou mayst go thy ways; and thank thy patron saint that I
+am a merciful man," said the Tanner.
+
+"A plague o' such mercy as thine!" said Little John, sitting up and
+feeling his ribs where the Tanner had cudgeled him.  "I make my vow,
+my ribs feel as though every one of them were broken in twain.
+I tell thee, good fellow, I did think there was never a man in all
+Nottinghamshire could do to me what thou hast done this day."
+
+"And so thought I, also," cried Robin Hood, bursting out of the thicket
+and shouting with laughter till the tears ran down his cheeks.
+"O man, man!" said he, as well as he could for his mirth, " 'a didst
+go over like a bottle knocked from a wall.  I did see the whole
+merry bout, and never did I think to see thee yield thyself so,
+hand and foot, to any man in all merry England.  I was seeking thee,
+to chide thee for leaving my bidding undone; but thou hast been
+paid all I owed thee, full measure, pressed down and overflowing,
+by this good fellow.  Marry, 'a did reach out his arm full
+length while thou stood gaping at him, and, with a pretty rap,
+tumbled thee over as never have I seen one tumbled before."
+So spoke bold Robin, and all the time Little John sat upon
+the ground, looking as though he had sour curds in his mouth.
+"What may be thy name, good fellow?" said Robin, next, turning
+to the Tanner.
+
+"Men do call me Arthur a Bland," spoke up the Tanner boldly,
+"and now what may be thy name?"
+
+"Ha, Arthur a Bland!" quoth Robin, "I have heard thy name before,
+good fellow.  Thou didst break the crown of a friend of mine
+at the fair at Ely last October.  The folk there call him
+Jock o' Nottingham; we call him Will Scathelock.  This poor
+fellow whom thou hast so belabored is counted the best hand at
+the quarterstaff in all merry England.  His name is Little John,
+and mine Robin Hood."
+
+"How!" cried the Tanner, "art thou indeed the great Robin Hood,
+and is this the famous Little John?  Marry, had I known who thou art,
+I would never have been so bold as to lift my hand against thee.
+Let me help thee to thy feet, good Master Little John, and let me
+brush the dust from off thy coat."
+
+"Nay," quoth Little John testily, at the same time rising carefully,
+as though his bones had been made of glass, "I can help myself,
+good fellow, without thy aid; and let me tell thee, had it not
+been for that vile cowskin cap of thine, it would have been ill
+for thee this day."
+
+At this Robin laughed again, and, turning to the Tanner, he said,
+"Wilt thou join my band, good Arthur?  For I make my vow thou art
+one of the stoutest men that ever mine eyes beheld."
+
+"Will I join thy band?" cried the Tanner joyfully.
+"Ay, marry, will I!  Hey for a merry life!" cried he, leaping aloft
+and snapping his fingers, "and hey for the life I love!
+Away with tanbark and filthy vats and foul cowhides!
+I will follow thee to the ends of the earth, good master,
+and not a herd of dun deer in all the forest but shall know
+the sound of the twang of my bowstring."
+
+"As for thee, Little John," said Robin, turning to him and laughing,
+"thou wilt start once more for Ancaster, and we will go part way with thee,
+for I will not have thee turn again to either the right hand or the left
+till thou hast fairly gotten away from Sherwood.  There are other inns
+that thou knowest yet, hereabouts."  Thereupon, leaving the thickets,
+they took once more to the highway and departed upon their business.
+
+
+
+Robin Hood and Will Scarlet
+
+THUS THEY traveled along the sunny road, three stout fellows such as you
+could hardly match anywhere else in all merry England.  Many stopped
+to gaze after them as they strode along, so broad were their shoulders
+and so sturdy their gait.
+
+Quoth Robin Hood to Little John, "Why didst thou not go straight
+to Ancaster, yesterday, as I told thee?  Thou hadst not gotten
+thyself into such a coil hadst thou done as I ordered."
+
+"I feared the rain that threatened," said Little John in a sullen tone,
+for he was vexed at being so chaffed by Robin with what had happened to him.
+
+"The rain!" cried Robin, stopping of a sudden in the middle of the road,
+and looking at Little John in wonder.  "Why, thou great oaf! not a drop
+of rain has fallen these three days, neither has any threatened,
+nor hath there been a sign of foul weather in earth or sky or water."
+
+"Nevertheless," growled Little John, "the holy Saint Swithin
+holdeth the waters of the heavens in his pewter pot, and he could
+have poured them out, had he chosen, even from a clear sky;
+and wouldst thou have had me wet to the skin?"
+
+At this Robin Hood burst into a roar of laughter.  "O Little John!"
+said he, "what butter wits hast thou in that head of thine!
+Who could hold anger against such a one as thou art?"
+
+So saying, they all stepped out once more, with the right foot foremost,
+as the saying is.
+
+After they had traveled some distance, the day being warm and the road dusty,
+Robin Hood waxed thirsty; so, there being a fountain of water as cold as ice,
+just behind the hedgerow, they crossed the stile and came to where the water
+bubbled up from beneath a mossy stone.  Here, kneeling and making cups
+of the palms of their hands, they drank their fill, and then, the spot being
+cool and shady, they stretched their limbs and rested them for a space.
+
+In front of them, over beyond the hedge, the dusty road stretched
+away across the plain; behind them the meadow lands and bright green
+fields of tender young corn lay broadly in the sun, and overhead
+spread the shade of the cool, rustling leaves of the beechen tree.
+Pleasantly to their nostrils came the tender fragrance of the purple
+violets and wild thyme that grew within the dewy moisture of the edge
+of the little fountain, and pleasantly came the soft gurgle of the water.
+All was so pleasant and so full of the gentle joy of the bright Maytime,
+that for a long time no one of the three cared to speak, but each lay
+on his back, gazing up through the trembling leaves of the trees to
+the bright sky overhead.  At last, Robin, whose thoughts were not quite
+so busy wool-gathering as those of the others, and who had been gazing
+around him now and then, broke the silence.
+
+"Heyday!" quoth he, "yon is a gaily feathered bird, I take my vow."
+
+The others looked and saw a young man walking slowly down the highway.
+Gay was he, indeed, as Robin had said, and a fine figure he cut,
+for his doublet was of scarlet silk and his stockings also;
+a handsome sword hung by his side, the embossed leathern scabbard being
+picked out with fine threads of gold; his cap was of scarlet velvet,
+and a broad feather hung down behind and back of one ear.
+His hair was long and yellow and curled upon his shoulders,
+and in his hand he bore an early rose, which he smelled at daintily
+now and then.
+
+"By my life!" quoth Robin Hood, laughing, "saw ye e'er such
+a pretty, mincing fellow?"
+
+"Truly, his clothes have overmuch prettiness for my taste," quoth Arthur
+a Bland, "but, ne'ertheless, his shoulders are broad and his loins are narrow,
+and seest thou, good master, how that his arms hang from his body?
+They dangle not down like spindles, but hang stiff and bend at the elbow.
+I take my vow, there be no bread and milk limbs in those fine clothes,
+but stiff joints and tough thews."
+
+"Methinks thou art right, friend Arthur," said Little John.  "I do verily
+think that yon is no such roseleaf and whipped-cream gallant as he would
+have one take him to be."
+
+"Pah!" quoth Robin Hood, "the sight of such a fellow doth put
+a nasty taste into my mouth!  Look how he doth hold that fair
+flower betwixt his thumb and finger, as he would say, `Good rose,
+I like thee not so ill but I can bear thy odor for a little while.'
+I take it ye are both wrong, and verily believe that were
+a furious mouse to run across his path, he would cry,
+`La!' or `Alack-a-day!' and fall straightway into a swoon.
+I wonder who he may be."
+
+"Some great baron's son, I doubt not," answered Little John,
+"with good and true men's money lining his purse."
+
+"Ay, marry, that is true, I make no doubt," quoth Robin.  "What a pity
+that such men as he, that have no thought but to go abroad in gay clothes,
+should have good fellows, whose shoes they are not fit to tie,
+dancing at their bidding.  By Saint Dunstan, Saint Alfred, Saint Withold,
+and all the good men in the Saxon calendar, it doth make me mad to see
+such gay lordlings from over the sea go stepping on the necks of good Saxons
+who owned this land before ever their great-grandsires chewed rind of brawn!
+By the bright bow of Heaven, I will have their ill-gotten gains from them,
+even though I hang for it as high as e'er a forest tree in Sherwood!"
+
+"Why, how now, master," quoth Little John, "what heat is this?
+Thou dost set thy pot a-boiling, and mayhap no bacon to cook!
+Methinks yon fellow's hair is overlight for Norman locks.
+He may be a good man and true for aught thou knowest."
+
+"Nay," said Robin, "my head against a leaden farthing, he is what I say.
+So, lie ye both here, I say, till I show you how I drub this fellow."
+So saying, Robin Hood stepped forth from the shade of the beech tree,
+crossed the stile, and stood in the middle of the road, with his hands
+on his hips, in the stranger's path.
+
+Meantime the stranger, who had been walking so slowly that all this talk
+was held before he came opposite the place where they were, neither quickened
+his pace nor seemed to see that such a man as Robin Hood was in the world.
+So Robin stood in the middle of the road, waiting while the other walked
+slowly forward, smelling his rose, and looking this way and that,
+and everywhere except at Robin.
+
+"Hold!" cried Robin, when at last the other had come close
+to him.  "Hold!  Stand where thou art!"
+
+"Wherefore should I hold, good fellow?" said the stranger in soft
+and gentle voice.  "And wherefore should I stand where I am?
+Ne'ertheless, as thou dost desire that I should stay,
+I will abide for a short time, that I may hear what thou mayst
+have to say to me."
+
+"Then," quoth Robin, "as thou dost so fairly do as I tell thee, and dost
+give me such soft speech, I will also treat thee with all due courtesy.
+I would have thee know, fair friend, that I am, as it were, a votary at
+the shrine of Saint Wilfred who, thou mayst know, took, willy-nilly, all
+their gold from the heathen, and melted it up into candlesticks.
+Wherefore, upon such as come hereabouts, I levy a certain toll, which I
+use for a better purpose, I hope, than to make candlesticks withal.
+Therefore, sweet chuck, I would have thee deliver to me thy purse,
+that I may look into it, and judge, to the best of my poor powers,
+whether thou hast more wealth about thee than our law allows.
+For, as our good Gaffer Swanthold sayeth, `He who is fat from overliving
+must needs lose blood.'  "
+
+All this time the youth had been sniffing at the rose that he held
+betwixt his thumb and finger.  "Nay," said he with a gentle smile,
+when Robin Hood had done, "I do love to hear thee talk, thou pretty fellow,
+and if, haply, thou art not yet done, finish, I beseech thee.
+I have yet some little time to stay."
+
+"I have said all," quoth Robin, "and now, if thou wilt give me thy purse,
+I will let thee go thy way without let or hindrance so soon as I shall see
+what it may hold.  I will take none from thee if thou hast but little."
+
+"Alas!  It doth grieve me much," said the other, "that I cannot do as thou
+dost wish.  I have nothing to give thee.  Let me go my way, I prythee.
+I have done thee no harm."
+
+"Nay, thou goest not," quoth Robin, "till thou hast shown me thy purse."
+
+"Good friend," said the other gently, "I have business elsewhere.
+I have given thee much time and have heard thee patiently.
+Prythee, let me depart in peace."
+
+"I have spoken to thee, friend," said Robin sternly, "and I now tell
+thee again, that thou goest not one step forward till thou hast done
+as I bid thee."  So saying, he raised his quarterstaff above his head
+in a threatening way.
+
+"Alas!" said the stranger sadly, "it doth grieve me that this thing
+must be.  I fear much that I must slay thee, thou poor fellow!"
+So saying, he drew his sword.
+
+"Put by thy weapon," quoth Robin.  "I would take no vantage of thee.
+Thy sword cannot stand against an oaken staff such as mine.
+I could snap it like a barley straw.  Yonder is a good oaken thicket
+by the roadside; take thee a cudgel thence and defend thyself fairly,
+if thou hast a taste for a sound drubbing."
+
+First the stranger measured Robin with his eye, and then
+he measured the oaken staff.  "Thou art right, good fellow,"
+said he presently, "truly, my sword is no match for that
+cudgel of thine.  Bide thee awhile till I get me a staff."
+So saying, he threw aside the rose that he had been holding all
+this time, thrust his sword back into the scabbard, and, with a
+more hasty step than he had yet used, stepped to the roadside
+where grew the little clump of ground oaks Robin had spoken of.
+Choosing among them, he presently found a sapling to his liking.
+He did not cut it, but, rolling up his sleeves a little way, he laid hold
+of it, placed his heel against the ground, and, with one mighty pull,
+plucked the young tree up by the roots from out the very earth.
+Then he came back, trimming away the roots and tender stems
+with his sword as quietly as if he had done nought to speak of.
+
+Little John and the Tanner had been watching all that passed,
+but when they saw the stranger drag the sapling up from the earth,
+and heard the rending and snapping of its roots, the Tanner
+pursed his lips together, drawing his breath between them
+in a long inward whistle.
+
+"By the breath of my body!" said Little John, as soon as he
+
+
+
+
+could gather his wits from their wonder, "sawest thou that, Arthur?  Marry, I
+think our poor master will stand but an ill chance with yon fellow.
+By Our Lady, he plucked up yon green tree as it were a barley straw."
+
+Whatever Robin Hood thought, he stood his ground, and now he and the stranger
+in scarlet stood face to face.
+
+Well did Robin Hood hold his own that day as a mid-country yeoman.
+This way and that they fought, and back and forth,
+Robin's skill against the stranger's strength.
+The dust of the highway rose up around them like a cloud,
+so that at times Little John and the Tanner could see nothing,
+but only hear the rattle of the staves against one another.
+Thrice Robin Hood struck the stranger; once upon the arm and twice
+upon the ribs, and yet had he warded all the other's blows,
+only one of which, had it met its mark, would have laid
+stout Robin lower in the dust than he had ever gone before.
+At last the stranger struck Robin's cudgel so fairly in the middle
+that he could hardly hold his staff in his hand; again he struck,
+and Robin bent beneath the blow; a third time he struck,
+and now not only fairly beat down Robin's guard, but gave him
+such a rap, also, that down he tumbled into the dusty road.
+
+"Hold!" cried Robin Hood, when he saw the stranger raising his staff
+once more.  "I yield me!"
+
+"Hold!" cried Little John, bursting from his cover, with the Tanner
+at his heels.  "Hold! give over, I say!"
+
+"Nay," answered the stranger quietly, "if there be two more of you,
+and each as stout as this good fellow, I am like to have my hands full.
+Nevertheless, come on, and I will strive my best to serve you all."
+
+"Stop!" cried Robin Hood, "we will fight no more.  I take my vow,
+this is an ill day for thee and me, Little John.  I do verily
+believe that my wrist, and eke my arm, are palsied by the jar
+of the blow that this stranger struck me."
+
+Then Little John turned to Robin Hood.  "Why, how now,
+good master," said he.  "Alas!  Thou art in an ill plight.
+Marry, thy jerkin is all befouled with the dust of the road.
+Let me help thee to arise."
+
+"A plague on thy aid!" cried Robin angrily.  "I can get to my feet
+without thy help, good fellow."
+
+"Nay, but let me at least dust thy coat for thee.  I fear thy
+poor bones are mightily sore," quoth Little John soberly,
+but with a sly twinkle in his eyes.
+
+"Give over, I say!" quoth Robin in a fume.  "My coat hath been dusted
+enough already, without aid of thine."  Then, turning to the stranger,
+he said, "What may be thy name, good fellow?"
+
+"My name is Gamwell," answered the other.
+
+"Ha!" cried Robin, "is it even so?  I have near kin of that name.
+Whence camest thou, fair friend?"
+
+"From Maxfield Town I come," answered the stranger.
+"There was I born and bred, and thence I come to seek my mother's
+young brother, whom men call Robin Hood.  So, if perchance thou
+mayst direct me--"
+
+"Ha!  Will Gamwell!" cried Robin, placing both hands upon
+the other's shoulders and holding him off at arm's length.
+"Surely, it can be none other!  I might have known thee by that
+pretty maiden air of thine--that dainty, finicking manner of gait.
+Dost thou not know me, lad?  Look upon me well."
+
+"Now, by the breath of my body!" cried the other, "I do believe from
+my heart that thou art mine own Uncle Robin.  Nay, certain it is so!"
+And each flung his arms around the other, kissing him upon the cheek.
+
+Then once more Robin held his kinsman off at arm's length and
+scanned him keenly from top to toe.  "Why, how now," quoth he,
+"what change is here?  Verily, some eight or ten years ago I left
+thee a stripling lad, with great joints and ill-hung limbs, and lo!
+here thou art, as tight a fellow as e'er I set mine eyes upon.
+Dost thou not remember, lad, how I showed thee the proper way
+to nip the goose feather betwixt thy fingers and throw out thy bow
+arm steadily?  Thou gayest great promise of being a keen archer.
+And dost thou not mind how I taught thee to fend and parry
+with the cudgel?"
+
+"Yea," said young Gamwell, "and I did so look up to thee, and thought thee
+so above all other men that, I make my vow, had I known who thou wert,
+I would never have dared to lift hand against thee this day.
+I trust I did thee no great harm."
+
+"No, no," quoth Robin hastily, and looking sideways at Little John,
+"thou didst not harm me.  But say no more of that, I prythee.
+Yet I will say, lad, that I hope I may never feel again such a blow
+as thou didst give me.  By'r Lady, my arm doth tingle yet from
+fingernail to elbow.  Truly, I thought that I was palsied for life.
+I tell thee, coz, that thou art the strongest man that ever I
+laid mine eyes upon.  I take my vow, I felt my stomach quake
+when I beheld thee pluck up yon green tree as thou didst.
+But tell me, how camest thou to leave Sir Edward and thy mother?"
+
+"Alas!" answered young Gamwell, "it is an ill story, uncle, that I
+have to tell thee.  My father's steward, who came to us after old
+Giles Crookleg died, was ever a saucy varlet, and I know not why
+my father kept him, saving that he did oversee with great judgment.
+It used to gall me to hear him speak up so boldly to my father, who,
+thou knowest, was ever a patient man to those about him, and slow
+to anger and harsh words.  Well, one day--and an ill day it was for
+that saucy fellow--he sought to berate my father, I standing by.
+I could stand it no longer, good uncle, so, stepping forth, I gave
+him a box o' the ear, and--wouldst thou believe it?--the fellow
+straightway died o't. I think they said I broke his neck, or something o'
+the like.  So off they packed me to seek thee and escape the law.
+I was on my way when thou sawest me, and here I am."
+
+"Well, by the faith of my heart," quoth Robin Hood, "for anyone
+escaping the law, thou wast taking it the most easily that ever
+I beheld in all my life.  Whenever did anyone in all the world
+see one who had slain a man, and was escaping because of it,
+tripping along the highway like a dainty court damsel,
+sniffing at a rose the while?"
+
+"Nay, uncle," answered Will Gamwell, "overhaste never churned good butter,
+as the old saying hath it.  Moreover, I do verily believe that this
+overstrength of my body hath taken the nimbleness out of my heels.
+Why, thou didst but just now rap me thrice, and I thee never a once,
+save by overbearing thee by my strength."
+
+"Nay," quoth Robin, "let us say no more on that score.
+I am right glad to see thee, Will, and thou wilt add great honor
+and credit to my band of merry fellows.  But thou must change
+thy name, for warrants will be out presently against thee;
+so, because of thy gay clothes, thou shalt henceforth and for aye
+be called Will Scarlet."
+
+"Will Scarlet," quoth Little John, stepping forward and reaching out his
+great palm, which the other took, "Will Scarlet, the name fitteth thee well.
+Right glad am I to welcome thee among us.  I am called Little John;
+and this is a new member who has just joined us, a stout tanner named
+Arthur a Bland.  Thou art like to achieve fame, Will, let me tell thee,
+for there will be many a merry ballad sung about the country, and many a merry
+story told in Sherwood of how Robin Hood taught Little John and Arthur
+a Bland the proper way to use the quarterstaff; likewise, as it were,
+how our good master bit off so large a piece of cake that he choked on it."
+
+"Nay, good Little John," quoth Robin gently, for he liked ill to have
+such a jest told of him.  "Why should we speak of this little matter?
+Prythee, let us keep this day's doings among ourselves."
+
+"With all my heart," quoth Little John.  "But, good master,
+I thought that thou didst love a merry story, because thou hast
+so often made a jest about a certain increase of fatness on my joints,
+of flesh gathered by my abiding with the Sheriff of--"
+
+"Nay, good Little John," said Robin hastily, "I do bethink me
+I have said full enough on that score."
+
+"It is well," quoth Little John, "for in truth I myself have tired
+of it somewhat.  But now I bethink me, thou didst also seem minded
+to make a jest of the rain that threatened last night; so--"
+
+"Nay, then," said Robin Hood testily, "I was mistaken.
+I remember me now it did seem to threaten rain."
+
+"Truly, I did think so myself," quoth Little John, "therefore, no doubt,
+thou dost think it was wise of me to abide all night at the Blue Boar Inn,
+instead of venturing forth in such stormy weather; dost thou not?"
+
+"A plague of thee and thy doings!" cried Robin Hood.  "If thou wilt
+have it so, thou wert right to abide wherever thou didst choose."
+
+"Once more, it is well," quoth Little John.  "As for myself,
+I have been blind this day.  I did not see thee drubbed;
+I did not see thee tumbled heels over head in the dust;
+and if any man says that thou wert, I can with a clear conscience
+rattle his lying tongue betwixt his teeth."
+
+"Come," cried Robin, biting his nether lip, while the others
+could not forbear laughing.  "We will go no farther today,
+but will return to Sherwood, and thou shalt go to Ancaster
+another time, Little John."
+
+So said Robin, for now that his bones were sore, he felt as though
+a long journey would be an ill thing for him.  So, turning their backs,
+they retraced their steps whence they came.
+
+
+
+The Adventure with Midge the Miller's Son
+
+WHEN THE four yeomen had traveled for a long time toward
+Sherwood again, high noontide being past, they began to wax hungry.
+Quoth Robin Hood, "I would that I had somewhat to eat.
+Methinks a good loaf of white bread, with a piece of
+snow-white cheese, washed down with a draught of humming ale,
+were a feast for a king."
+
+"Since thou speakest of it," said Will Scarlet, "methinks it
+would not be amiss myself.  There is that within me crieth out,
+`Victuals, good friend, victuals!' "
+
+"I know a house near by," said Arthur a Bland, "and, had I but the money,
+I would bring ye that ye speak of; to wit, a sweet loaf of bread,
+a fair cheese, and a skin of brown ale."
+
+"For the matter of that, thou knowest I have money by me, good master,"
+quoth Little John.
+
+"Why, so thou hast, Little John," said Robin.  "How much money will it take,
+good Arthur, to buy us meat and drink?"
+
+"I think that six broad pennies will buy food enow for a dozen men,"
+said the Tanner.
+
+"Then give him six pennies, Little John," quoth Robin,
+"for methinks food for three men will about fit my need.
+Now get thee gone, Arthur, with the money, and bring the food here,
+for there is a sweet shade in that thicket yonder, beside the road,
+and there will we eat our meal."
+
+So Little John gave Arthur the money, and the others stepped to the thicket,
+there to await the return of the Tanner.
+
+After a time he came back, bearing with him a great brown loaf of bread,
+and a fair, round cheese, and a goatskin full of stout March beer,
+slung over his shoulders.  Then Will Scarlet took his sword and
+divided the loaf and the cheese into four fair portions, and each
+man helped himself.  Then Robin Hood took a deep pull at the beer.
+"Aha!" said he, drawing in his breath, "never have I tasted sweeter
+drink than this."
+
+After this no man spake more, but each munched away at his bread
+and cheese lustily, with ever and anon a pull at the beer.
+
+At last Will Scarlet looked at a small piece of bread he still held
+in his hand, and quoth he, "Methinks I will give this to the sparrows."
+So, throwing it from him, he brushed the crumbs from his jerkin.
+
+"I, too," quoth Robin, "have had enough, I think."
+As for Little John and the Tanner, they had by this time eaten
+every crumb of their bread and cheese.
+
+"Now," quoth Robin, "I do feel myself another man, and would fain
+enjoy something pleasant before going farther upon our journey.
+I do bethink me, Will, that thou didst use to have a pretty voice,
+and one that tuned sweetly upon a song.  Prythee, give us one ere
+we journey farther."
+
+"Truly, I do not mind turning a tune," answered Will Scarlet,
+"but I would not sing alone."
+
+"Nay, others will follow.  Strike up, lad," quoth Robin.
+
+"In that case, 'tis well," said Will Scarlet.  "I do call to mind a song
+that a certain minstrel used to sing in my father's hall, upon occasion.
+I know no name for it and so can give you none; but thus it is."
+Then, clearing his throat, he sang:
+
+ "_In the merry blossom time,
+     When love longings food the breast,
+ When the flower is on the lime,
+     When the small fowl builds her nest,
+ Sweetly sings the nightingale
+     And the throstle cock so bold;
+ Cuckoo in the dewy dale
+ And the turtle in the word.
+ But the robin I love dear,
+ For he singeth through the year.
+          Robin! Robin!
+          Merry Robin!
+ So I'd have my true love be:
+          Not to fly
+          At the nigh
+ Sign of cold adversity_.
+ "_When the spring brings sweet delights,
+     When aloft the lark doth rise,
+ Lovers woo o' mellow nights,
+     And youths peep in maidens' eyes,
+ That time blooms the eglantine,
+     Daisies pied upon the hill,
+ Cowslips fair and columbine,
+     Dusky violets by the rill.
+ But the ivy green cloth grow
+ When the north wind bringeth snow.
+          Ivy! Ivy!
+          Stanch and true!
+ Thus I'd have her love to be:
+          Not to die
+          At the nigh
+ Breath of cold adversity_."
+
+
+"'Tis well sung," quoth Robin, "but, cousin, I tell thee plain,
+I would rather hear a stout fellow like thee sing some lusty
+ballad than a finicking song of flowers and birds, and what not.
+Yet, thou didst sing it fair, and 'tis none so bad a snatch of a song,
+for the matter of that.  Now, Tanner, it is thy turn."
+
+"I know not," quoth Arthur, smiling, with his head on one side,
+like a budding lass that is asked to dance, "I know not that I
+can match our sweet friend's song; moreover, I do verily think
+that I have caught a cold and have a certain tickling and huskiness
+in the windpipe."
+
+"Nay, sing up, friend," quoth Little John, who sat next to him,
+patting him upon the shoulder.  "Thou hast a fair, round, mellow voice;
+let us have a touch of it."
+
+"Nay, an ye will ha' a poor thing," said Arthur, "I will do my best.
+Have ye ever heard of the wooing of Sir Keith, the stout young Cornish knight,
+in good King Arthur's time?"
+
+"Methinks I have heard somewhat of it," said Robin; "but ne'ertheless
+strike up thy ditty and let us hear it, for, as I do remember me,
+it is a gallant song; so out with it, good fellow."
+
+Thereupon, clearing his throat, the Tanner, without more ado,
+began to sing:
+
+
+THE WOOING OF SIR KEITH
+
+ "_King Arthur sat in his royal hall,
+     And about on either hand
+ Was many a noble lordling tall,
+     The greatest in the land.
+
+ "Sat  Lancelot with raven locks,
+     Gawaine with golden hair,
+ Sir Tristram, Kay who kept the locks,
+     And many another there.
+
+ "And through the stained windows bright,
+     From o'er the red-tiled eaves,
+ The sunlight blazed with colored light
+     On golden helms and greaves.
+
+ "But suddenly a silence came
+     About the Table Round,
+ For up the hall there walked a dame
+     Bent nigh unto the ground.
+
+ "Her nose was hooked, her eyes were bleared,
+     Her locks were lank and white;
+ Upon her chin there grew a beard;
+     She was a gruesome sight.
+
+ "And so with crawling step she came
+     And kneeled at Arthur's feet;
+ Quoth Kay, `She is the foulest dame
+     That e'er my sight did greet.'
+
+ " `O mighty King! of thee I crave
+     A boon on bended knee';
+ 'Twas thus she spoke. `What wouldst thou have.'
+     Quoth Arthur, King, `of me_?'
+
+ "_Quoth she, `I have a foul disease
+     Doth gnaw my very heart,
+ And but one thing can bring me ease
+     Or cure my bitter smart.
+
+ " `There is no rest, no ease for me
+     North, east, or west, or south,
+ Till Christian knight will willingly
+     Thrice kiss me on the mouth.
+
+ " `Nor wedded may this childe have been
+     That giveth ease to me;
+ Nor may he be constrained, I ween,
+     But kiss me willingly.
+
+ " `So is there here one Christian knight
+     Of such a noble strain
+ That he will give a tortured wight
+     Sweet ease of mortal pain?'
+
+ " `A wedded man,' quoth Arthur, King,
+     `A wedded man I be
+ Else would I deem it noble thing
+     To kiss thee willingly.
+
+ " `Now, Lancelot, in all men's sight
+     Thou art the head and chief
+ Of chivalry. Come, noble knight,
+     And give her quick relief.'
+
+ "But Lancelot he turned aside
+     And looked upon the ground,
+ For it did sting his haughty pride
+     To hear them laugh around.
+
+ " `Come thou, Sir Tristram,' quoth the King.
+     Quoth he, `It cannot be,
+ For ne'er can I my stomach bring
+     To do it willingly.'
+
+ " `Wilt thou, Sir Kay, thou scornful wight?'
+     Quoth Kay, `Nay, by my troth!
+ What noble dame would kiss a knight
+     That kissed so foul a mouth_?'
+
+ " `_Wilt thou, Gawaine?' `I cannot, King.'
+     `Sir Geraint?' `Nay, not I;
+ My kisses no relief could bring,
+     For sooner would I die.'
+
+ "Then up and spake the youngest man
+     Of all about the board,
+ 'Now such relief as Christian can
+     I'll give to her, my lord.'
+
+ "It was Sir Keith, a youthful knight,
+     Yet strong of limb and bold,
+ With beard upon his chin as light
+     As finest threads of gold.
+
+ "Quoth Kay, `He hath no mistress yet
+     That he may call his own,
+ But here is one that's quick to get,
+     As she herself has shown.'
+
+ "He kissed her once, he kissed her twice,
+     He kissed her three times o'er,
+ A wondrous change came in a trice,
+     And she was foul no more.
+
+ "Her cheeks grew red as any rose,
+     Her brow as white as lawn,
+ Her bosom like the winter snows,
+     Her eyes like those of fawn.
+
+ "Her breath grew sweet as summer breeze
+     That blows the meadows o'er;
+ Her voice grew soft as rustling trees,
+     And cracked and harsh no more.
+
+ "Her hair grew glittering, like the gold,
+     Her hands as white as milk;
+ Her filthy rags, so foul and old,
+     Were changed to robes of silk.
+
+ "In great amaze the knights did stare.
+     Quoth Kay, `I make my vow
+ If it will please thee, lady fair,
+     I'll gladly kiss thee now_.'
+
+ "_But young Sir Keith kneeled on one knee
+     And kissed her robes so fair.
+ `O let me be thy slave,' said he,
+     `For none to thee compare.'
+
+ "She bent her down, she kissed his brow,
+     She kissed his lips and eyes.
+ Quoth she, `Thou art my master now,
+     My lord, my love, arise!
+
+ " `And all the wealth that is mine own,
+     My lands, I give to thee,
+ For never knight hath lady shown
+     Such noble courtesy.
+
+ " `Bewitched was I, in bitter pain,
+     But thou hast set me free,
+ So now I am myself again,
+     I give myself to thee_.' "
+
+
+
+"Yea, truly," quoth Robin Hood, when the Tanner had made an end of singing,
+"it is as I remember it, a fair ditty, and a ballad with a pleasing tune
+of a song."
+
+"It hath oftentimes seemed to me," said Will Scarlet,
+"that it hath a certain motive in it, e'en such as this:
+That a duty which seemeth to us sometimes ugly and harsh,
+when we do kiss it fairly upon the mouth, so to speak,
+is no such foul thing after all."
+
+"Methinks thou art right," quoth Robin, "and, contrariwise,
+that when we kiss a pleasure that appeareth gay it turneth foul to us;
+is it not so, Little John?  Truly such a thing hath brought thee
+sore thumps this day.  Nay, man, never look down in the mouth.
+Clear thy pipes and sing us a ditty."
+
+"Nay," said Little John, "I have none as fair as that merry
+Arthur has trolled.  They are all poor things that I know.
+Moreover, my voice is not in tune today, and I would not spoil
+even a tolerable song by ill singing."
+
+Upon this all pressed Little John to sing, so that when
+he had denied them a proper length of time, such as is
+seemly in one that is asked to sing, he presently yielded.
+Quoth he, `Well, an ye will ha' it so, I will give you what I can.
+Like to fair Will, I have no title to my ditty, but thus it runs:
+
+
+
+
+ "_O Lady mine, the spring is here,
+     With a hey nonny nonny;
+ The sweet love season of the year,
+     With a ninny ninny nonny;
+          Now lad and lass
+          Lie in the grass
+          That groweth green
+          With flowers between.
+          The buck doth rest
+          The leaves do start,
+          The cock doth crow,
+          The breeze doth blow,
+          And all things laugh in_--"
+
+
+"Who may yon fellow be coming along the road?" said Robin,
+breaking into the song.
+
+"I know not," quoth Little John in a surly voice.  "But this I do know,
+that it is an ill thing to do to check the flow of a good song."
+
+"Nay, Little John," said Robin, "be not vexed, I prythee;
+but I have been watching him coming along, bent beneath that great
+bag over his shoulder, ever since thou didst begin thy song.
+Look, Little John, I pray, and see if thou knowest him."
+
+Little John looked whither Robin Hood pointed.  "Truly," quoth he,
+after a time, "I think yon fellow is a certain young miller
+I have seen now and then around the edge of Sherwood;
+a poor wight, methinks, to spoil a good song about."
+
+"Now thou speakest of him," quoth Robin Hood, "methinks I myself have
+seen him now and then.  Hath he not a mill over beyond Nottingham Town,
+nigh to the Salisbury road?"
+
+"Thou art right; that is the man," said Little John.
+
+"A good stout fellow," quoth Robin.  "I saw him crack Ned o'
+Bradford's crown about a fortnight since, and never saw I hair
+lifted more neatly in all my life before."
+
+By this time the young miller had come so near that they could see
+him clearly.  His clothes were dusted with flour, and over his back
+he carried a great sack of meal, bending so as to bring the whole weight
+upon his shoulders, and across the sack was a thick quarterstaff.
+His limbs were stout and strong, and he strode along the dusty
+road right sturdily with the heavy sack across his shoulders.
+His cheeks were ruddy as a winter hip, his hair was flaxen in color,
+and on his chin was a downy growth of flaxen beard.
+
+"A good honest fellow," quoth Robin Hood, "and such an one as is a
+credit to English yeomanrie.  Now let us have a merry jest with him.
+We will forth as though we were common thieves and pretend to rob him
+of his honest gains.  Then will we take him into the forest and give
+him a feast such as his stomach never held in all his life before.
+We will flood his throat with good canary and send him home with crowns
+in his purse for every penny he hath.  What say ye, lads?"
+
+"Truly, it is a merry thought," said Will Scarlet.
+
+"It is well planned," quoth Little John, "but all the saints
+preserve us from any more drubbings this day!  Marry, my poor
+bones ache so that I--"
+
+"Prythee peace, Little John," quoth Robin.  "Thy foolish tongue
+will get us both well laughed at yet."
+
+"My foolish tongue, forsooth," growled Little John to Arthur
+a Bland.  "I would it could keep our master from getting us
+into another coil this day."
+
+But now the Miller, plodding along the road, had come opposite
+to where the yeomen lay hidden, whereupon all four of them ran
+at him and surrounded him.
+
+"Hold, friend!" cried Robin to the Miller; whereupon he turned slowly,
+with the weight of the bag upon his shoulder, and looked at each in turn
+all bewildered, for though a good stout man his wits did not skip
+like roasting chestnuts.
+
+"Who bids me stay?" said the Miller in a voice deep and gruff,
+like the growl of a great dog.
+
+"Marry, that do I," quoth Robin; "and let me tell thee, friend, thou hadst
+best mind my bidding."
+
+"And who art thou, good friend?" said the Miller, throwing the great sack
+of meal from his shoulder to the ground, "and who are those with thee?"
+
+"We be four good Christian men," quoth Robin, "and would fain
+help thee by carrying part of thy heavy load."
+
+"I give you all thanks," said the Miller, "but my bag is none
+that heavy that I cannot carry it e'en by myself."
+
+"Nay, thou dost mistake," quoth Robin, "I meant that thou
+mightest perhaps have some heavy farthings or pence about thee,
+not to speak of silver and gold.  Our good Gaffer Swanthold sayeth
+that gold is an overheavy burden for a two-legged ass to carry;
+so we would e'en lift some of this load from thee."
+
+"Alas!" cried the Miller, "what would ye do to me?
+I have not about me so much as a clipped groat.
+Do me no harm, I pray you, but let me depart in peace.
+Moreover, let me tell you that ye are upon Robin Hood's ground,
+and should he find you seeking to rob an honest craftsman,
+he will clip your ears to your heads and scourge you even
+to the walls of Nottingham.
+
+"In truth I fear Robin Hood no more than I do myself,"
+quoth jolly Robin.  "Thou must this day give up to me every
+penny thou hast about thee.  Nay, if thou dost budge an inch
+I will rattle this staff about thine ears."
+
+"Nay, smite me not!" cried the Miller, throwing up his elbow
+as though he feared the blow.  "Thou mayst search me if thou wilt,
+but thou wilt find nothing upon me, pouch, pocket, or skin."
+
+"Is it so?" quoth Robin Hood, looking keenly upon him.
+"Now I believe that what thou tellest is no true tale.
+If I am not much mistook thou hast somewhat in the bottom of that
+fat sack of meal.  Good Arthur, empty the bag upon the ground;
+I warrant thou wilt find a shilling or two in the flour."
+
+"Alas!" cried the Miller, falling upon his knees, "spoil not
+all my good meal!  It can better you not, and will ruin me.
+Spare it, and I will give up the money in the bag."
+
+"Ha!" quoth Robin, nudging Will Scarlet.  "Is it so?
+And have I found where thy money lies?  Marry, I have a wondrous
+nose for the blessed image of good King Harry.  I thought
+that I smelled gold and silver beneath the barley meal.
+Bring it straight forth, Miller."
+
+Then slowly the Miller arose to his feet, and slowly and unwillingly he untied
+the mouth of the bag, and slowly thrust his hands into the meal and began
+fumbling about with his arms buried to the elbows in the barley flour.
+The others gathered round him, their heads together, looking and wondering
+what he would bring forth.
+
+So they stood, all with their heads close together gazing
+down into the sack.  But while he pretended to be searching
+for the money, the Miller gathered two great handfuls of meal.
+"Ha," quoth he, "here they are, the beauties."  Then, as the others
+leaned still more forward to see what he had, he suddenly
+cast the meal into their faces, filling their eyes and noses
+and mouths with the flour, blinding and half choking them.
+Arthur a Bland was worse off than any, for his mouth was open,
+agape with wonder of what was to come, so that a great cloud
+of flour flew down his throat, setting him a-coughing till
+he could scarcely stand.
+
+Then, while all four stumbled about, roaring with the smart
+of the meal in their eyeballs, and while they rubbed their eyes
+till the tears made great channels on their faces through the meal,
+the Miller seized another handful of flour and another and another,
+throwing it in their faces, so that even had they had a glimmering of
+light before they were now as blind as ever a beggar in Nottinghamshire,
+while their hair and beards and clothes were as white as snow.
+
+Then catching up his great crabstaff, the Miller began
+laying about him as though he were clean gone mad.
+This way and that skipped the four, like peas on a drumhead,
+but they could see neither to defend themselves nor to run away.
+Thwack! thwack! went the Miller's cudgel across their backs,
+and at every blow great white clouds of flour rose in the air
+from their jackets and went drifting down the breeze.
+
+"Stop!" roared Robin at last.  "Give over, good friend,
+I am Robin Hood!"
+
+"Thou liest, thou knave," cried the Miller, giving him a rap on
+the ribs that sent up a great cloud of flour like a puff of smoke.
+"Stout Robin never robbed an honest tradesman.  Ha! thou wouldst
+have my money, wouldst thou?"  And he gave him another blow.
+"Nay, thou art not getting thy share, thou long-legged knave.
+Share and share alike."  And he smote Little John across
+the shoulders so that he sent him skipping half across the road.
+"Nay, fear not, it is thy turn now, black beard."  And he gave
+the Tanner a crack that made him roar for all his coughing.
+"How now, red coat, let me brush the dust from thee!"
+cried he, smiting Will Scarlet.  And so he gave them merry words
+and blows until they could scarcely stand, and whenever he saw
+one like to clear his eyes he threw more flour in his face.
+At last Robin Hood found his horn and clapping it to his lips,
+blew three loud blasts upon it.
+
+Now it chanced that Will Stutely and a party of Robin's men were in the glade
+not far from where this merry sport was going forward.  Hearing the hubbub
+of voices, and blows that sounded like the noise of a flail in the barn
+in wintertime, they stopped, listening and wondering what was toward.
+Quoth Will Stutely, "Now if I mistake not there is some stout battle with
+cudgels going forward not far hence.  I would fain see this pretty sight."
+So saying, he and the whole party turned their steps whence the noise came.
+When they had come near where all the tumult sounded they heard the three
+blasts of Robin's bugle horn.
+
+"Quick!" cried young David of Doncaster.  "Our master is in sore need!"
+So, without stopping a moment, they dashed forward with might and main
+and burst forth from the covert into the highroad.
+
+But what a sight was that which they saw!  The road was all white with meal,
+and five men stood there also white with meal from top to toe, for much
+of the barley flour had fallen back upon the Miller.
+
+"What is thy need, master?" cried Will Stutely.  "And what doth
+all this mean?"
+
+"Why," quoth Robin in a mighty passion, "yon traitor felt low
+hath come as nigh slaying me as e'er a man in all the world.
+Hadst thou not come quickly, good Stutely, thy master had been dead."
+
+Hereupon, while he and the three others rubbed the meal from their eyes,
+and Will Stutely and his men brushed their clothes clean, he told them all;
+how that he had meant to pass a jest upon the Miller, which same had turned
+so grievously upon them.
+
+"Quick, men, seize the vile Miller!" cried Stutely, who was nigh choking
+with laughter as were the rest; whereupon several ran upon the stout fellow
+and seizing him, bound his arms behind his back with bowstrings.
+
+"Ha!" cried Robin, when they brought the trembling Miller to him.
+"Thou wouldst murder me, wouldst thou?  By my faith"--
+Here he stopped and stood glaring upon the, Miller grimly.
+But Robin's anger could not hold, so first his eyes twinkled,
+and then in spite of all he broke into a laugh.
+
+Now when they saw their master laugh, the yeomen who stood around
+could contain themselves no longer, and a mighty shout of laughter
+went up from all.  Many could not stand, but rolled upon the ground
+from pure merriment.
+
+"What is thy name, good fellow?" said Robin at last to the Miller,
+who stood gaping and as though he were in amaze.
+
+"Alas, sir, I am Midge, the Miller's son," said he in a frightened voice.
+
+"I make my vow," quoth merry Robin, smiting him upon the shoulder,
+"thou art the mightiest Midge that e'er mine eyes beheld.
+Now wilt thou leave thy dusty mill and come and join my band?
+By my faith, thou art too stout a man to spend thy days betwixt
+the hopper and the till."
+
+"Then truly, if thou dost forgive me for the blows I struck,
+not knowing who thou wast, I will join with thee right merrily,"
+said the Miller.
+
+"Then have I gained this day," quoth Robin, "the three stoutest yeomen
+in all Nottinghamshire.  We will get us away to the greenwood tree, and there
+hold a merry feast in honor of our new friends, and mayhap a cup or two
+of good sack and canary may mellow the soreness of my poor joints and bones,
+though I warrant it will be many a day before I am again the man I was."
+So saying, he turned and led the way, the rest following, and so they
+entered the forest once more and were lost to sight.
+
+So that night all was ablaze with crackling fires in the woodlands,
+for though Robin and those others spoken of, only excepting Midge,
+the Miller's son, had many a sore bump and bruise here and there on
+their bodies, they were still not so sore in the joints that they could not
+enjoy a jolly feast given all in welcome to the new members of the band.
+Thus with songs and jesting and laughter that echoed through the deeper
+and more silent nooks of the forest, the night passed quickly along,
+as such merry times are wont to do, until at last each man sought his
+couch and silence fell on all things and all things seemed to sleep.
+
+But Little John's tongue was ever one that was not easy
+of guidance, so that, inch by inch, the whole story of his fight
+with the Tanner and Robin's fight with Will Scarlet leaked out.
+And so I have told it that you may laugh at the merry tale
+along with me.
+
+
+
+Robin Hood and Allan a Dale
+
+IT HAS just been told how three unlucky adventures fell upon Robin Hood
+and Little John all in one day bringing them sore ribs and aching bones.
+So next we will tell how they made up for those ill happenings by a good
+action that came about not without some small pain to Robin.
+
+Two days had passed by, and somewhat of the soreness had passed
+away from Robin Hood's joints, yet still, when he moved of a sudden
+and without thinking, pain here and there would, as it were,
+jog him, crying, "Thou hast had a drubbing, good fellow."
+
+The day was bright and jocund, and the morning dew still lay upon the grass.
+Under the greenwood tree sat Robin Hood; on one side was Will Scarlet,
+lying at full length upon his back, gazing up into the clear sky,
+with hands clasped behind his head; upon the other side sat Little John,
+fashioning a cudgel out of a stout crab-tree limb; elsewhere upon the grass
+sat or lay many others of the band.
+
+"By the faith of my heart," quoth merry Robin, "I do bethink me
+that we have had no one to dine with us for this long time.
+Our money groweth low in the purse, for no one hath come to pay
+a reckoning for many a day.  Now busk thee, good Stutely, and choose
+thee six men, and get thee gone to Fosse Way or thereabouts,
+and see that thou bringest someone to eat with us this evening.
+Meantime we will prepare a grand feast to do whosoever may come
+the greater honor.  And stay, good Stutely.  I would have thee
+take Will Scarlet with thee, for it is meet that he should become
+acquaint with the ways of the forest."
+
+"Now do I thank thee, good master," quoth Stutely, springing to his feet,
+"that thou hast chosen me for this adventure.  Truly, my limbs
+do grow slack through abiding idly here.  As for two of my six,
+I will choose Midge the Miller and Arthur a Bland, for, as well
+thou knowest, good master, they are stout fists at the quarterstaff.
+Is it not so, Little John?"
+
+At this all laughed but Little John and Robin, who twisted up his face.
+"I can speak for Midge," said he, "and likewise for my cousin Scarlet.
+This very blessed morn I looked at my ribs and found them as many colors
+as a beggar's cloak."
+
+So, having chosen four more stout fellows, Will Stutely and his band set
+forth to Fosse Way, to find whether they might not come across some rich
+guest to feast that day in Sherwood with Robin and his band.
+
+For all the livelong day they abided near this highway.
+Each man had brought with him a good store of cold meat and a bottle
+of stout March beer to stay his stomach till the homecoming.
+So when high noontide had come they sat them down upon the soft grass,
+beneath a green and wide-spreading hawthorn bush, and held a hearty
+and jovial feast.  After this, one kept watch while the others napped,
+for it was a still and sultry day.
+
+Thus they passed the time pleasantly enow, but no guest such as they
+desired showed his face in all the time that they lay hidden there.
+Many passed along the dusty road in the glare of the sun:
+now it was a bevy of chattering damsels merrily tripping along;
+now it was a plodding tinker; now a merry shepherd lad;
+now a sturdy farmer; all gazing ahead along the road,
+unconscious of the seven stout fellows that lay hidden so near them.
+Such were the travelers along the way; but fat abbot, rich esquire,
+or money-laden usurer came there none.
+
+At last the sun began to sink low in the heavens; the light
+grew red and the shadows long.  The air grew full of silence,
+the birds twittered sleepily, and from afar came, faint and clear,
+the musical song of the milkmaid calling the kine home
+to the milking.
+
+Then Stutely arose from where he was lying.  "A plague of such ill luck!"
+quoth he.  "Here have we abided all day, and no bird worth
+the shooting, so to speak, hath come within reach of our bolt.
+Had I gone forth on an innocent errand, I had met a dozen stout
+priests or a score of pursy money-lenders. But it is ever thus:
+the dun deer are never so scarce as when one has a gray goose
+feather nipped betwixt the fingers.  Come, lads, let us pack up
+and home again, say I."
+
+Accordingly, the others arose, and, coming forth from out the thicket,
+they all turned their toes back again to Sherwood.  After they had gone
+some distance, Will Stutely, who headed the party, suddenly stopped.
+"Hist!" quoth he, for his ears were as sharp as those of a five-year-old fox.
+"Hark, lads!  Methinks I hear a sound."  At this all stopped and listened
+with bated breath, albeit for a time they could hear nothing, their ears being
+duller than Stutely's. At length they heard a faint and melancholy sound,
+like someone in lamentation.
+
+"Ha!" quoth Will Scarlet, "this must be looked into.
+There is someone in distress nigh to us here."
+
+"I know not," quoth Will Stutely, shaking his head doubtfully,
+"our master is ever rash about thrusting his finger into a boiling pot;
+but, for my part, I see no use in getting ourselves into mischievous coils.
+Yon is a man's voice, if I mistake not, and a man should be always ready
+to get himself out from his own pothers."
+
+Then out spake Will Scarlet boldly.  "Now out upon thee,
+to talk in that manner, Stutely!  Stay, if thou dost list.
+I go to see what may be the trouble of this poor creature."
+
+"Nay," quoth Stutely, "thou dost leap so quickly, thou'lt tumble into
+the ditch.  Who said I would not go?  Come along, say I." Thus saying,
+he led the way, the others following, till, after they had gone
+a short distance, they came to a little opening in the woodland,
+whence a brook, after gurgling out from under the tangle of
+overhanging bushes, spread out into a broad and glassy-pebbled pool.
+By the side of this pool, and beneath the branches of a willow, lay a
+youth upon his face, weeping aloud, the sound of which had first caught
+the quick ears of Stutely.  His golden locks were tangled, his clothes
+were all awry, and everything about him betokened sorrow and woe.
+Over his head, from the branches of the osier, hung a beautiful harp
+of polished wood inlaid with gold and silver in fantastic devices.
+Beside him lay a stout ashen bow and half a score of fair, smooth arrows.
+
+"Halloa!" shouted Will Stutely, when they had come out from the forest
+into the little open spot.  "Who art thou, fellow, that liest there
+killing all the green grass with salt water?"
+
+Hearing the voice, the stranger sprang to his feet and;
+snatching up his bow and fitting a shaft, held himself in readiness
+for whatever ill might befall him.
+
+"Truly," said one of the yeomen, when they had seen the young
+stranger's face, "I do know that lad right well.  He is a certain
+minstrel that I have seen hereabouts more than once.  It was only
+a week ago I saw him skipping across the hill like a yearling doe.
+A fine sight he was then, with a flower at his ear and a cock's
+plume stuck in his cap; but now, methinks, our cockerel is shorn
+of his gay feathers."
+
+"Pah!" cried Will Stutely, coming up to the stranger,
+"wipe thine eyes, man!  I do hate to see a tall, stout fellow
+so sniveling like a girl of fourteen over a dead tomtit.
+Put down thy bow, man!  We mean thee no harm."
+
+But Will Scarlet, seeing how the stranger, who had a young
+and boyish look, was stung by the words that Stutely had spoken,
+came to him and put his hand upon the youth's shoulder.
+"Nay, thou art in trouble, poor boy!" said he kindly.
+"Mind not what these fellows have said.  They are rough, but they
+mean thee well.  Mayhap they do not understand a lad like thee.
+Thou shalt come with us, and perchance we may find a certain one
+that can aid thee in thy perplexities, whatsoever they may be."
+
+"Yea, truly, come along," said Will Stutely gruffly.
+"I meant thee no harm, and may mean thee some good.
+Take down thy singing tool from off this fair tree,
+and away with us."
+
+The youth did as he was bidden and, with bowed head and sorrowful step,
+accompanied the others, walking beside Will Scarlet.  So they
+wended their way through the forest.  The bright light faded
+from the sky and a glimmering gray fell over all things.
+From the deeper recesses of the forest the strange whispering
+sounds of night-time came to the ear; all else was silent,
+saving only for the rattling of their footsteps amid the crisp,
+dry leaves of the last winter.  At last a ruddy glow shone
+before them here and there through the trees; a little farther
+and they came to the open glade, now bathed in the pale moonlight.
+In the center of the open crackled a great fire, throwing a red
+glow on all around.  At the fire were roasting juicy steaks
+of venison, pheasants, capons, and fresh fish from the river.
+All the air was filled with the sweet smell of good things cooking.
+
+The little band made its way across the glade, many yeomen turning with
+curious looks and gazing after them, but none speaking or questioning them.
+So, with Will Scarlet upon one side and Will Stutely upon the other,
+the stranger came to where Robin Hood sat on a seat of moss under
+the greenwood tree, with Little John standing beside him.
+
+"Good even, fair friend," said Robin Hood, rising as the other drew near.
+"And hast thou come to feast with me this day?"
+
+"Alas!  I know not," said the lad, looking around him with
+dazed eyes, for he was bewildered with all that he saw.
+"Truly, I know not whether I be in a dream," said he to himself
+in a low voice.
+
+"Nay, marry," quoth Robin, laughing, "thou art awake, as thou
+wilt presently find, for a fine feast is a-cooking for thee.
+Thou art our honored guest this day."
+
+Still the young stranger looked about him, as though in a dream.
+Presently he turned to Robin.  "Methinks," said he, "I know now where I
+am and what hath befallen me.  Art not thou the great Robin Hood?"
+
+"Thou hast hit the bull's eye," quoth Robin, clapping him upon the shoulder.
+"Men hereabouts do call me by that name.  Sin' thou knowest me,
+thou knowest also that he who feasteth with me must pay his reckoning.
+I trust thou hast a full purse with thee, fair stranger."
+
+"Alas!" said the stranger, "I have no purse nor no money either,
+saving only the half of a sixpence, the other half of which mine own
+dear love doth carry in her bosom, hung about her neck by a strand
+of silken thread."
+
+At this speech a great shout of laughter went up from those around,
+whereat the poor boy looked as he would die of shame; but Robin Hood
+turned sharply to Will Stutely.  "Why, how now," quoth he,
+"is this the guest that thou hast brought us to fill our purse?
+Methinks thou hast brought but a lean cock to the market."
+
+"Nay, good master," answered Will Stutely, grinning, "he is no guest of mine;
+it was Will Scarlet that brought him thither."
+
+Then up spoke Will Scarlet, and told how they had found
+the lad in sorrow, and how he had brought him to Robin,
+thinking that he might perchance aid him in his trouble.
+Then Robin Hood turned to the youth, and, placing his hand
+upon the other's shoulder, held him off at arm's length,
+scanning his face closely.
+
+"A young face," quoth he in a low voice, half to himself, "a kind face,
+a good face.  'Tis like a maiden's for purity, and, withal, the fairest
+that e'er mine eyes did see; but, if I may judge fairly by thy looks,
+grief cometh to young as well as to old."  At these words, spoken so kindly,
+the poor lad's eyes brimmed up with tears.  "Nay, nay," said Robin hastily,
+"cheer up, lad; I warrant thy case is not so bad that it cannot be mended.
+What may be thy name?"
+
+"Allen a Dale is my name, good master."
+
+"Allen a Dale," repeated Robin, musing.  "Allen a Dale.  It doth
+seem to me that the name is not altogether strange to mine ears.
+Yea, surely thou art the minstrel of whom we have been hearing lately,
+whose voice so charmeth all men.  Dost thou not come from the Dale
+of Rotherstream, over beyond Stavely?"
+
+"Yea, truly," answered Allan, "I do come thence."
+
+"How old art thou, Allan?" said Robin.
+
+"I am but twenty years of age."
+
+"Methinks thou art overyoung to be perplexed with trouble,"
+quoth Robin kindly; then, turning to the others, he cried,
+"Come, lads, busk ye and get our feast ready; only thou,
+Will Scarlet, and thou, Little John, stay here with me."
+
+Then, when the others had gone, each man about his business, Robin turned
+once more to the youth.  "Now, lad," said he, "tell us thy troubles,
+and speak freely.  A flow of words doth ever ease the heart of sorrows;
+it is like opening the waste weir when the mill dam is overfull.
+Come, sit thou here beside me, and speak at thine ease."
+
+Then straightway the youth told the three yeomen all that was in his heart;
+at first in broken words and phrases, then freely and with greater
+ease when he saw that all listened closely to what he said.
+So he told them how he had come from York to the sweet vale of Rother,
+traveling the country through as a minstrel, stopping now at castle,
+now at hall, and now at farmhouse; how he had spent one sweet evening
+in a certain broad, low farmhouse, where he sang before a stout
+franklin and a maiden as pure and lovely as the first snowdrop
+of spring; how he had played and sung to her, and how sweet Ellen o'
+the Dale had listened to him and had loved him.  Then, in a low,
+sweet voice, scarcely louder than a whisper, he told how he had watched
+for her and met her now and then when she went abroad, but was all
+too afraid in her sweet presence to speak to her, until at last,
+beside the banks of Rother, he had spoken of his love, and she
+had whispered that which had made his heartstrings quiver for joy.
+Then they broke a sixpence between them, and vowed to be true
+to one another forever.
+
+Next he told how her father had discovered what was a-doing, and had
+taken her away from him so that he never saw her again, and his heart
+was sometimes like to break; how this morn, only one short month
+and a half from the time that he had seen her last, he had heard
+and knew it to be so, that she was to marry old Sir Stephen of Trent,
+two days hence, for Ellen's father thought it would be a grand
+thing to have his daughter marry so high, albeit she wished it not;
+nor was it wonder that a knight should wish to marry his own sweet love,
+who was the most beautiful maiden in all the world.
+
+To all this the yeomen listened in silence, the clatter of
+many voices, jesting and laughing, sounding around them, and the red
+light of the fire shining on their faces and in their eyes.
+So simple were the poor boy's words, and so deep his sorrow,
+that even Little John felt a certain knotty lump rise in his throat.
+
+"I wonder not," said Robin, after a moment's silence, "that thy true
+love loved thee, for thou hast surely a silver cross beneath thy tongue,
+even like good Saint Francis, that could charm the birds of the air
+by his speech."
+
+"By the breath of my body," burst forth Little John, seeking to cover
+his feelings with angry words, "I have a great part of a mind to go
+straightway and cudgel the nasty life out of the body of that same vile
+Sir Stephen.  Marry, come up, say I--what a plague--does an old weazen
+think that tender lasses are to be bought like pullets o' a market day?
+Out upon him!--I-- but no matter, only let him look to himself."
+
+Then up spoke Will Scarlet.  "Methinks it seemeth but ill done of the lass
+that she should so quickly change at others' bidding, more especially when it
+cometh to the marrying of a man as old as this same Sir Stephen.  I like it
+not in her, Allan."
+
+"Nay," said Allan hotly, "thou dost wrong her.  She is as soft
+and gentle as a stockdove.  I know her better than anyone
+in all the world.  She may do her father's bidding, but if she
+marries Sir Stephen, her heart will break and she will die.
+My own sweet dear, I--" He stopped and shook his head,
+for he could say nothing further.
+
+While the others were speaking, Robin Hood had been sunk in thought.
+"Methinks I have a plan might fit thy case, Allan," said he.
+"But tell me first, thinkest thou, lad, that thy true love hath spirit
+enough to marry thee were ye together in church, the banns published,
+and the priest found, even were her father to say her nay?"
+
+"Ay, marry would she," cried Allan eagerly.
+
+"Then, if her father be the man that I take him to be, I will undertake
+that he shall give you both his blessing as wedded man and wife,
+in the place of old Sir Stephen, and upon his wedding morn.
+But stay, now I bethink me, there is one thing reckoned not upon--
+the priest.  Truly, those of the cloth do not love me overmuch,
+and when it comes to doing as I desire in such a matter, they are
+as like as not to prove stiff-necked. As to the lesser clergy,
+they fear to do me a favor because of abbot or bishop.
+
+"Nay," quoth Will Scarlet, laughing, "so far as that goeth, I know
+of a certain friar that, couldst thou but get on the soft side of him,
+would do thy business even though Pope Joan herself stood forth to ban him.
+He is known as the Curtal Friar of Fountain Abbey, and dwelleth
+in Fountain Dale."
+
+"But," quoth Robin, "Fountain Abbey is a good hundred miles from here.
+An we would help this lad, we have no time to go thither and back before
+his true love will be married.  Nought is to be gained there, coz."
+
+"Yea," quoth Will Scarlet, laughing again, "but this Fountain Abbey
+is not so far away as the one of which thou speakest, uncle.
+The Fountain Abbey of which I speak is no such rich and proud place
+as the other, but a simple little cell; yet, withal, as cosy a spot
+as ever stout anchorite dwelled within.  I know the place well,
+and can guide thee thither, for, though it is a goodly distance,
+yet methinks a stout pair of legs could carry a man there and back
+in one day."
+
+"Then give me thy hand, Allan," cried Robin, "and let me
+tell thee, I swear by the bright hair of Saint AElfrida
+that this time two days hence Ellen a Dale shall be thy wife.
+I will seek this same Friar of Fountain Abbey tomorrow day,
+and I warrant I will get upon the soft side of him, even if I
+have to drub one soft."
+
+At this Will Scarlet laughed again.  "Be not too sure of that,
+good uncle," quoth he, "nevertheless, from what I know of him,
+I think this Curtal Friar will gladly join two such fair lovers,
+more especially if there be good eating and drinking afoot thereafter."
+
+But now one of the band came to say that the feast was spread
+upon the grass; so, Robin leading the way, the others followed
+to where the goodly feast was spread.  Merry was the meal.
+Jest and story passed freely, and all laughed till the forest rang again.
+Allan laughed with the rest, for his cheeks were flushed with the hope
+that Robin Hood had given him.
+
+At last the feast was done, and Robin Hood turned to Allan, who sat
+beside him.  "Now, Allan," quoth he, "so much has been said of thy
+singing that we would fain have a taste of thy skill ourselves.
+Canst thou not give us something?"
+
+"Surely," answered Allan readily; for he was no third-rate
+songster that must be asked again and again, but said "yes"
+or "no" at the first bidding; so, taking up his harp,
+he ran his fingers lightly over the sweetly sounding strings,
+and all was hushed about the cloth.  Then, backing his voice
+with sweet music on his harp, he sang:
+
+
+MAY ELLEN'S WEDDING
+
+(Giving an account of how she was beloved by a fairy prince,
+who took her to his own home.)
+
+ "_May Ellen sat beneath a thorn
+     And in a shower around
+ The blossoms fell at every breeze
+     Like snow upon the ground,
+ And in a lime tree near was heard
+ The sweet song of a strange, wild bird.
+ "O sweet, sweet, sweet, O piercing sweet,
+     O lingering sweet the strain!
+ May Ellen's heart within her breast
+     Stood still with blissful pain:
+ And so, with listening, upturned face,
+ She sat as dead in that fair place.
+
+ " `Come down from out the blossoms, bird!
+     Come down from out the tree,
+ And on my heart I'll let thee lie,
+     And love thee tenderly!'
+ Thus cried May Ellen, soft and low,
+ From where the hawthorn shed its snow.
+
+ "Down dropped the bird on quivering wing,
+     From out the blossoming tree,
+ And nestled in her snowy breast.
+     `My love! my love!' cried she;
+ Then straightway home, 'mid sun and flower,
+ She bare him to her own sweet bower.
+
+ "The day hath passed to mellow night,
+     The moon floats o'er the lea,
+ And in its solemn, pallid light
+     A youth stands silently:
+ A youth of beauty strange and rare,
+ Within May Ellen's bower there.
+
+ "He stood where o'er the pavement cold
+     The glimmering moonbeams lay.
+ May Ellen gazed with wide, scared eyes,
+     Nor could she turn away,
+ For, as in mystic dreams we see
+ A spirit, stood he silently.
+
+ "All in a low and breathless voice,
+     `Whence comest thou?' said she;
+ `Art thou the creature of a dream,
+     Or a vision that I see?'
+ Then soft spake he, as night winds shiver
+ Through straining reeds beside the river.
+
+     " `I came, a bird on feathered wing,
+     From distant Faeryland
+ Where murmuring waters softly sing
+     Upon the golden strand,
+ Where sweet trees are forever green;
+ And there my mother is the queen.'
+
+ . . . . . . .
+ "No more May Ellen leaves her bower
+     To grace the blossoms fair;
+ But in the hushed and midnight hour
+     They hear her talking there,
+ Or, when the moon is shining white,
+ They hear her singing through the night.
+
+ " `Oh, don thy silks and jewels fine,'
+     May Ellen's mother said,
+ `For hither comes the Lord of Lyne
+     And thou this lord must wed.'
+ May Ellen said, `It may not be.
+ He ne'er shall find his wife in me.'
+
+ "Up spoke her brother, dark and grim:
+     `Now by the bright blue sky,
+ E'er yet a day hath gone for him
+     Thy wicked bird shall die!
+ For he hath wrought thee bitter harm,
+ By some strange art or cunning charm.'
+
+ "Then, with a sad and mournful song,
+     Away the bird did fly,
+ And o'er the castle eaves, and through
+     The gray and windy sky.
+ `Come forth!' then cried the brother grim,
+ `Why dost thou gaze so after him?'
+
+ "It is May Ellen's wedding day,
+     The sky is blue and fair,
+ And many a lord and lady gay
+     In church are gathered there.
+ The bridegroom was Sir Hugh the Bold,
+ All clad in silk and cloth of gold.
+
+ "In came the bride in samite white
+     With a white wreath on her head;
+ Her eyes were fixed with a glassy look,
+     Her face was as the dead,
+ And when she stood among the throng,
+ She sang a wild and wondrous song.
+
+ "Then came a strange and rushing sound
+     Like the coming wind doth bring,
+ And in the open windows shot
+     Nine swans on whistling wing,
+ And high above the heads they flew,
+ In gleaming fight the darkness through.
+
+ "Around May Ellen's head they flew
+     In wide and windy fight,
+ And three times round the circle drew.
+     The guests shrank in affright,
+ And the priest beside the altar there,
+ Did cross himself with muttered prayer.
+
+ "But the third time they flew around,
+     Fair Ellen straight was gone,
+ And in her place, upon the ground,
+     There stood a snow-white swan.
+ Then, with a wild and lovely song,
+ It joined the swift and winged throng.
+
+ "There's ancient men at weddings been,
+     For sixty years and more,
+ But such a wondrous wedding day,
+     They never saw before.
+ But none could check and none could stay,
+ The swans that bore the bride away_."
+
+
+Not a sound broke the stillness when Allan a Dale had done,
+but all sat gazing at the handsome singer, for so sweet was
+his voice and the music that each man sat with bated breath,
+lest one drop more should come and he should lose it.
+
+"By my faith and my troth," quoth Robin at last, drawing a deep breath,
+"lad, thou art--Thou must not leave our company, Allan!  Wilt thou not
+stay with us here in the sweet green forest?  Truly, I do feel my heart
+go out toward thee with great love."
+
+Then Allan took Robin's hand and kissed it.  "I will stay with thee always,
+dear master," said he, "for never have I known such kindness as thou hast
+shown me this day."
+
+Then Will Scarlet stretched forth his hand and shook Allan's
+in token of fellowship, as did Little John likewise.
+And thus the famous Allan a Dale became one of Robin Hood's band.
+
+
+
+Robin Hood Seeks the Curtal Friar
+
+THE STOUT YEOMEN of Sherwood Forest were ever early risers of a morn,
+more especially when the summertime had come, for then in the freshness
+of the dawn the dew was always the brightest, and the song of the small
+birds the sweetest.
+
+Quoth Robin, "Now will I go to seek this same Friar of Fountain Abbey
+of whom we spake yesternight, and I will take with me four of my
+good men, and these four shall be Little John, Will Scarlet, David
+of Doncaster, and Arthur a Bland.  Bide the rest of you here,
+and Will Stutely shall be your chief while I am gone."
+Then straightway Robin Hood donned a fine steel coat of chain mail,
+over which he put on a light jacket of Lincoln green.
+Upon his head he clapped a steel cap, and this he covered by one
+of soft white leather, in which stood a nodding cock's plume.
+By his side he hung a good broadsword of tempered steel,
+the bluish blade marked all over with strange figures of dragons,
+winged women, and what not.  A gallant sight was Robin so arrayed,
+I wot, the glint of steel showing here and there as the sunlight
+caught brightly the links of polished mail that showed beneath
+his green coat.
+
+So, having arrayed himself, he and the four yeomen set forth upon
+their way, Will Scarlet taking the lead, for he knew better than
+the others whither to go.  Thus, mile after mile, they strode along,
+now across a brawling stream, now along a sunlit road, now adown some
+sweet forest path, over which the trees met in green and rustling canopy,
+and at the end of which a herd of startled deer dashed away,
+with rattle of leaves and crackle of branches.  Onward they walked
+with song and jest and laughter till noontide was passed, when at last
+they came to the banks of a wide, glassy, and lily-padded stream.
+Here a broad, beaten path stretched along beside the banks, on which path
+labored the horses that tugged at the slow-moving barges, laden with
+barley meal or what not, from the countryside to the many-towered town.
+But now, in the hot silence of the midday, no horse was seen nor
+any man besides themselves.  Behind them and before them stretched
+the river, its placid bosom ruffled here and there by the purple dusk
+of a small breeze.
+
+"Now, good uncle," quoth Will Scarlet at last, when they
+had walked for a long time beside this sweet, bright river,
+"just beyond yon bend ahead of us is a shallow ford which in no
+place is deeper than thy mid-thigh, and upon the other side
+of the stream is a certain little hermitage hidden amidst
+the bosky tangle of the thickets wherein dwelleth the Friar
+of Fountain Dale.  Thither will I lead thee, for I know the way;
+albeit it is not overhard to find."
+
+"Nay," quoth jolly Robin, stopping suddenly, "had I thought
+that I should have had to wade water, even were it so crystal
+a stream as this, I had donned other clothes than I have upon me.
+But no matter now, for after all a wetting will not wash the skin away,
+and what must be, must.  But bide ye here, lads, for I would
+enjoy this merry adventure alone.  Nevertheless, listen well,
+and if ye hear me sound upon my bugle horn, come quickly."
+So saying, he turned and left them, striding onward alone.
+
+Robin had walked no farther than where the bend of the road
+hid his good men from his view, when he stopped suddenly,
+for he thought that he heard voices.  He stood still and listened,
+and presently heard words passed back and forth betwixt what seemed
+to be two men, and yet the two voices were wondrously alike.
+The sound came from over behind the bank, that here was steep
+and high, dropping from the edge of the road a half a score
+of feet to the sedgy verge of the river.
+
+"'Tis strange," muttered Robin to himself after a space, when the voices
+had ceased their talking, "surely there be two people that spoke
+the one to the other, and yet methinks their voices are mightily alike.
+I make my vow that never have I heard the like in all my life before.
+Truly, if this twain are to be judged by their voices, no two peas
+were ever more alike.  I will look into this matter."  So saying,
+he came softly to the river bank and laying him down upon the grass,
+peered over the edge and down below.
+
+All was cool and shady beneath the bank.  A stout osier grew,
+not straight upward, but leaning across the water, shadowing the spot
+with its soft foliage.  All around grew a mass of feathery ferns
+such as hide and nestle in cool places, and up to Robin's nostrils
+came the tender odor of the wild thyme, that loves the moist verges
+of running streams.  Here, with his broad back against the rugged
+trunk of the willow tree, and half hidden by the soft ferns
+around him, sat a stout, brawny fellow, but no other man was there.
+His head was as round as a ball, and covered with a mat of
+close-clipped, curly black hair that grew low down on his forehead.
+But his crown was shorn as smooth as the palm of one's hand,
+which, together with his loose robe, cowl, and string of beads,
+showed that which his looks never would have done, that he was a friar.
+His cheeks were as red and shining as a winter crab, albeit they
+were nearly covered over with a close curly black beard,
+as were his chin and upper lip likewise.  His neck was thick
+like that of a north country bull, and his round head closely set
+upon shoulders e'en a match for those of Little John himself.
+Beneath his bushy black brows danced a pair of little gray
+eyes that could not stand still for very drollery of humor.
+No man could look into his face and not feel his heartstrings tickled
+by the merriment of their look.  By his side lay a steel cap,
+which he had laid off for the sake of the coolness to his crown.
+His legs were stretched wide apart, and betwixt his knees he held
+a great pasty compounded of juicy meats of divers kinds made savory
+with tender young onions, both meat and onions being mingled
+with a good rich gravy.  In his right fist he held a great piece
+of brown crust at which he munched sturdily, and every now and then
+he thrust his left hand into the pie and drew it forth full of meat;
+anon he would take a mighty pull at a great bottle of Malmsey
+that lay beside him.
+
+"By my faith," quoth Robin to himself, "I do verily believe that this
+is the merriest feast, the merriest wight, the merriest place,
+and the merriest sight in all merry England.  Methought there was
+another here, but it must have been this holy man talking to himself."
+
+So Robin lay watching the Friar, and the Friar, all unknowing that
+he was so overlooked, ate his meal placidly.  At last he was done,
+and, having first wiped his greasy hands upon the ferns and wild thyme
+(and sweeter napkin ne'er had king in all the world), he took up
+his flask and began talking to himself as though he were another man,
+and answering himself as though he were somebody else.
+
+"Dear lad, thou art the sweetest fellow in all the world,
+I do love thee as a lover loveth his lass.  La, thou dost
+make me shamed to speak so to me in this solitary place,
+no one being by, and yet if thou wilt have me say so,
+I do love thee as thou lovest me.  Nay then, wilt thou not
+take a drink of good Malmsey?  After thee, lad, after thee.
+Nay, I beseech thee, sweeten the draught with thy lips
+(here he passed the flask from his right hand to his left).
+An thou wilt force it on me so, I must needs do thy bidding,
+yet with the more pleasure do I so as I drink thy very great health
+(here he took a long, deep draught). And now, sweet lad,
+'tis thy turn next (here he passed the bottle from his left
+hand back again to his right). I take it, sweet chuck,
+and here's wishing thee as much good as thou wishest me."
+Saying this, he took another draught, and truly he drank
+enough for two.
+
+All this time merry Robin lay upon the bank and listened, while his
+stomach so quaked with laughter that he was forced to press his palm
+across his mouth to keep it from bursting forth; for, truly, he would
+not have spoiled such a goodly jest for the half of Nottinghamshire.
+
+Having gotten his breath from his last draught, the Friar began talking
+again in this wise:  "Now, sweet lad, canst thou not sing me a song?
+La, I know not, I am but in an ill voice this day; prythee ask me not;
+dost thou not hear how I croak like a frog?  Nay, nay, thy voice
+is as sweet as any bullfinch; come, sing, I prythee, I would rather
+hear thee sing than eat a fair feast.  Alas, I would fain not sing
+before one that can pipe so well and hath heard so many goodly songs
+and ballads, ne'ertheless, an thou wilt have it so, I will do my best.
+But now methinks that thou and I might sing some fair song together;
+dost thou not know a certain dainty little catch called `The Loving Youth
+and the Scornful Maid'? Why, truly, methinks I have heard it ere now.
+Then dost thou not think that thou couldst take the lass's part gif
+I take the lad's? I know not but I will try; begin thou with the lad
+and I will follow with the lass."
+
+Then, singing first with a voice deep and gruff, and anon in one high
+and squeaking, he blithely trolled the merry catch of
+
+
+THE LOVING YOUTH AND THE SCORNFUL MAID _HE
+ "Ah, it's wilt thou come with me, my love?
+     And it's wilt thou, love, he mine?
+ For I will give unto thee, my love,
+     Gay knots and ribbons so fine.
+ I'll woo thee, love, on my bended knee,
+ And I'll pipe sweet songs to none but thee.
+          Then it's hark! hark! hark!
+               To the winged lark
+          And it's hark to the cooing dove!
+               And the bright daffodil
+               Groweth down by the rill,
+          So come thou and be my love.
+
+SHE
+ "Now get thee away, young man so fine;
+     Now get thee away, I say;
+ For my true love shall never be thine,
+     And so thou hadst better not stay.
+ Thou art not a fine enough lad for me,
+ So I'll wait till a better young man I see.
+          For it's hark! hark! hark!
+               To the winged lark,
+          And it's hark to the cooing dove!
+               And the bright daffodil
+               Groweth down by the rill,
+          Yet never I'll be thy love.
+
+HE
+ "Then straight will I seek for another fair she,
+     For many a maid can be found,
+ And as thou wilt never have aught of me,
+     By thee will I never be bound.
+ For never is a blossom in the field so rare,
+ But others are found that are just as fair.
+          So it's hark! hark! hark!
+               To the joyous lark
+          And it's hark to the cooing dove!
+               And the bright daffodil
+               Groweth down by the rill,
+          And I'll seek me another dear love.
+
+SHE
+ "Young man, turn not so very quick away
+     Another fair lass to find.
+ Methinks I have spoken in haste today,
+     Nor have I made up my mind_,
+_
+          And if thou only wilt stay with me,
+          I'll love no other, sweet lad, but thee_."
+
+
+Here Robin could contain himself no longer but burst forth into a mighty
+roar of laughter; then, the holy Friar keeping on with the song, he joined
+in the chorus, and together they sang, or, as one might say, bellowed:
+
+          "_So it's hark! hark! hark!
+               To the joyous lark
+          And it's hark to the cooing dove!
+               For the bright daffodil
+               Groweth down by the rill
+          And I'll be thine own true love_."
+
+
+So they sang together, for the stout Friar did not seem to have heard
+Robin's laughter, neither did he seem to know that the yeoman had joined
+in with the song, but, with eyes half closed, looking straight before
+him and wagging his round head from side to side in time to the music,
+he kept on bravely to the end, he and Robin finishing up with a mighty
+roar that might have been heard a mile.  But no sooner had the last word
+been sung than the holy man seized his steel cap, clapped it on his head,
+and springing to his feet, cried in a great voice, "What spy have we here?
+Come forth, thou limb of evil, and I will carve thee into as fine pudding
+meat as e'er a wife in Yorkshire cooked of a Sunday."  Hereupon he drew
+from beneath his robes a great broadsword full as stout as was Robin's.
+
+"Nay, put up thy pinking iron, friend," quoth Robin,
+standing up with the tears of laughter still on his cheeks.
+"Folk who have sung so sweetly together should not fight thereafter."
+Hereupon he leaped down the bank to where the other stood.
+"I tell thee, friend," said he, "my throat is as parched
+with that song as e'er a barley stubble in October.  Hast thou
+haply any Malmsey left in that stout pottle?"
+
+"Truly," said the Friar in a glum voice, "thou dost ask
+thyself freely where thou art not bidden.  Yet I trust I am
+too good a Christian to refuse any man drink that is athirst.
+Such as there is o't thou art welcome to a drink of the same."
+And he held the pottle out to Robin.
+
+Robin took it without more ado and putting it to his lips, tilted his
+head back, while that which was within said "glug! "lug! glug!"
+for more than three winks, I wot.  The stout Friar watched Robin
+anxiously the while, and when he was done took the pottle quickly.
+He shook it, held it betwixt his eyes and the light, looked reproachfully
+at the yeoman, and straightway placed it at his own lips.
+When it came away again there was nought within it.
+
+"Doss thou know the country hereabouts, thou good and holy man?"
+asked Robin, laughing.
+
+"Yea, somewhat," answered the other dryly.
+
+"And dost thou know of a certain spot called Fountain Abbey?"
+
+"Yea, somewhat."
+
+"Then perchance thou knowest also of a certain one who goeth
+by the name of the Curtal Friar of Fountain Abbey."
+
+"Yea, somewhat."
+
+"Well then, good fellow, holy father, or whatever thou art,"
+quoth Robin, "I would know whether this same Friar is to be found
+upon this side of the river or the other."
+
+"That," quoth the Friar, "is a practical question upon
+which the cunning rules appertaining to logic touch not.
+I do advise thee to find that out by the aid of thine own
+five senses; sight, feeling, and what not."
+
+"I do wish much," quoth Robin, looking thoughtfully at the stout priest,
+"to cross yon ford and strive to find this same good Friar."
+
+"Truly," said the other piously, "it is a goodly wish on the part
+of one so young.  Far be it from me to check thee in so holy a quest.
+Friend, the river is free to all."
+
+"Yea, good father," said Robin, "but thou seest that my
+clothes are of the finest and I fain would not get them wet.
+Methinks thy shoulders are stout and broad; couldst thou not
+find it in thy heart to carry me across?"
+
+"Now, by the white hand of the holy Lady of the Fountain!" burst forth
+the Friar in a mighty rage, "dost thou, thou poor puny stripling,
+thou kiss-my-lady-la poppenjay; thou--thou What shall I call thee?
+Dost thou ask me, the holy Tuck, to carry thee?  Now I swear--"
+Here he paused suddenly, then slowly the anger passed from his face,
+and his little eyes twinkled once more.  "But why should I not?"
+quoth he piously.
+
+"Did not the holy Saint Christopher ever carry the stranger across the river?
+And should I, poor sinner that I am, be ashamed to do likewise?
+Come with me, stranger, and I will do thy bidding in an humble frame
+of mind."  So saying, he clambered up the bank, closely followed by Robin,
+and led the way to the shallow pebbly ford, chuckling to himself the while
+as though he were enjoying some goodly jest within himself.
+
+Having come to the ford, he girded up his robes about his loins,
+tucked his good broadsword beneath his arm, and stooped his
+back to take Robin upon it.  Suddenly he straightened up.
+"Methinks," quoth he, "thou'lt get thy weapon wet.
+Let me tuck it beneath mine arm along with mine own."
+
+"Nay, good father," said Robin, "I would not burden thee with aught
+of mine but myself."
+
+"Dost thou think," said the Friar mildly, "that the good Saint Christopher
+would ha' sought his own ease so?  Nay, give me thy tool as I bid thee,
+for I would carry it as a penance to my pride."
+
+Upon this, without more ado, Robin Hood unbuckled his sword from his side
+and handed it to the other, who thrust it with his own beneath his arm.
+Then once more the Friar bent his back, and, Robin having mounted upon it,
+he stepped sturdily into the water and so strode onward, splashing in
+the shoal, and breaking all the smooth surface into ever-widening rings.
+At last he reached the other side and Robin leaped lightly from his back.
+
+"Many thanks, good father," quoth he.  "Thou art indeed a good and holy man.
+Prythee give me my sword and let me away, for I am in haste."
+
+At this the stout Friar looked upon Robin for a long time,
+his head on one side, and with a most waggish twist to his face;
+then he slowly winked his right eye.  "Nay, good youth,"
+said he gently, "I doubt not that thou art in haste with thine affairs,
+yet thou dost think nothing of mine.  Thine are of a carnal nature;
+mine are of a spiritual nature, a holy work, so to speak;
+moreover, mine affairs do lie upon the other side of this stream.
+I see by thy quest of this same holy recluse that thou
+art a good young man and most reverent to the cloth.
+I did get wet coming hither, and am sadly afraid that should I
+wade the water again I might get certain cricks and pains i'
+the joints that would mar my devotions for many a day to come.
+I know that since I have so humbly done thy bidding thou
+wilt carry me back again.  Thou seest how Saint Godrick,
+that holy hermit whose natal day this is, hath placed in my hands
+two swords and in thine never a one.  Therefore be persuaded,
+good youth, and carry me back again."
+
+Robin Hood looked up and he looked down, biting his nether lip.
+Quoth he, "Thou cunning Friar, thou hast me fair and fast enow.
+Let me tell thee that not one of thy cloth hath so hoodwinked me
+in all my life before.  I might have known from thy looks that thou
+wert no such holy man as thou didst pretend to be."
+
+"Nay," interrupted the Friar, "I bid thee speak not so scurrilously neither,
+lest thou mayst perchance feel the prick of an inch or so of blue steel."
+
+"Tut, tut," said Robin, "speak not so, Friar; the loser
+hath ever the right to use his tongue as he doth list.
+Give me my sword; I do promise to carry thee back straightway.
+Nay, I will not lift the weapon against thee."
+
+"Marry, come up," quoth the Friar, "I fear thee not, fellow.
+Here is thy skewer; and get thyself presently ready, for I
+would hasten back."
+
+So Robin took his sword again and buckled it at his side;
+then he bent his stout back and took the Friar upon it.
+
+Now I wot Robin Hood had a heavier load to carry in the Friar
+than the Friar had in him.  Moreover he did not know the ford,
+so he went stumbling among the stones, now stepping into a deep hole,
+and now nearly tripping over a boulder, while the sweat ran down his
+face in beads from the hardness of his journey and the heaviness
+of his load.  Meantime, the Friar kept digging his heels into Robin's
+sides and bidding him hasten, calling him many ill names the while.
+To all this Robin answered never a word, but, having softly felt around
+till he found the buckle of the belt that held the Friar's sword,
+he worked slyly at the fastenings, seeking to loosen them.
+Thus it came about that, by the time he had reached the other bank
+with his load, the Friar's sword belt was loose albeit he knew it not;
+so when Robin stood on dry land and the Friar leaped from his back,
+the yeoman gripped hold of the sword so that blade, sheath, and strap
+came away from the holy man, leaving him without a weapon.
+
+"Now then," quoth merry Robin, panting as he spake and wiping
+the sweat from his brow, "I have thee, fellow.  This time
+that same saint of whom thou didst speak but now hath delivered
+two swords into my hand and hath stripped thine away from thee.
+Now if thou dost not carry me back, and that speedily,
+I swear I will prick thy skin till it is as full of holes
+as a slashed doublet."
+
+The good Friar said not a word for a while, but he looked
+at Robin with a grim look.  "Now," said he at last, "I did
+think that thy wits were of the heavy sort and knew not that
+thou wert so cunning.  Truly, thou hast me upon the hip.
+Give me my sword, and I promise not to draw it against thee save
+in self-defense; also, I promise to do thy bidding and take
+thee upon my back and carry thee."
+
+So jolly Robin gave him his sword again, which the Friar buckled
+to his side, and this time looked to it that it was more secure
+in its fastenings; then tucking up his robes once more, he took
+Robin Hood upon his back and without a word stepped into the water,
+and so waded on in silence while Robin sat laughing upon his back.
+At last he reached the middle of the ford where the water was deepest.
+Here he stopped for a moment, and then, with a sudden lift of his
+hand and heave of his shoulders, fairly shot Robin over his head
+as though he were a sack of grain.
+
+Down went Robin into the water with a mighty splash.
+"There," quoth the holy man, calmly turning back again to the shore,
+"let that cool thy hot spirit, if it may."
+
+Meantime, after much splashing, Robin had gotten to his feet and stood gazing
+about him all bewildered, the water running from him in pretty little rills.
+At last he shot the water out of his ears and spat some out of his mouth,
+and, gathering his scattered wits together, saw the stout Friar standing
+on the bank and laughing.  Then, I wot, was Robin Hood a mad man.
+"Stay, thou villain!" roared he, "I am after thee straight, and if I do
+not carve thy brawn for thee this day, may I never lift finger again!"
+So saying, he dashed, splashing, to the bank.
+
+"Thou needst not hasten thyself unduly," quoth the stout Friar.  "Fear not;
+I will abide here, and if thou dost not cry `Alack-a-day' ere long time
+is gone, may I never more peep through the brake at a fallow deer."
+
+And now Robin, having reached the bank, began, without more ado,
+to roll up his sleeves above his wrists.  The Friar, also,
+tucked his robes more about him, showing a great, stout arm
+on which the muscles stood out like humps of an aged tree.
+Then Robin saw, what he had not wotted of before, that the Friar
+had also a coat of chain mail beneath his gown.
+
+"Look to thyself," cried Robin, drawing his good sword.
+
+"Ay, marry," quoth the Friar, who held his already
+in his hand.  So, without more ado, they came together,
+and thereupon began a fierce and mighty battle.
+Right and left, and up and down and back and forth they fought.
+The swords flashed in the sun and then met with a clash
+that sounded far and near.  I wot this was no playful bout
+at quarterstaff, but a grim and serious fight of real earnest.
+Thus they strove for an hour or more, pausing every now and then
+to rest, at which times each looked at the other with wonder,
+and thought that never had he seen so stout a fellow;
+then once again they would go at it more fiercely than ever.
+Yet in all this time neither had harmed the other nor caused
+his blood to flow.  At last merry Robin cried, "Hold thy hand,
+good friend!" whereupon both lowered their swords.
+
+"Now I crave a boon ere we begin again," quoth Robin, wiping the sweat
+from his brow; for they had striven so long that he began to think that it
+would be an ill-done thing either to be smitten himself or to smite so stout
+and brave a fellow.
+
+"What wouldst thou have of me?" asked the Friar.
+
+"Only this," quoth Robin; "that thou wilt let me blow thrice upon
+my bugle horn."
+
+The Friar bent his brows and looked shrewdly at Robin Hood.  "Now I
+do verily think that thou hast some cunning trick in this," quoth he.
+"Ne'ertheless, I fear thee not, and will let thee have thy wish,
+providing thou wilt also let me blow thrice upon this little whistle."
+
+"With all my heart," quoth Robin, "so, here goes for one."
+So saying, he raised his silver horn to his lips and blew thrice
+upon it, clear and high.
+
+Meantime, the Friar stood watching keenly for what might come
+to pass, holding in his fingers the while a pretty silver whistle,
+such as knights use for calling their hawks back to their wrists,
+which whistle always hung at his girdle along with his rosary.
+
+Scarcely had the echo of the last note of Robin's bugle come winding back
+from across the river, when four tall men in Lincoln green came running
+around the bend of the road, each with a bow in his hand and an arrow
+ready nocked upon the string.
+
+"Ha!  Is it thus, thou traitor knave!" cried the Friar.  "Then, marry,
+look to thyself!"  So saying, he straightway clapped the hawk's whistle
+to his lips and blew a blast that was both loud and shrill.  And now there
+came a crackling of the bushes that lined the other side of the road,
+and presently forth from the covert burst four great, shaggy hounds.
+"At 'em, Sweet Lips!  At 'em, Bell Throat!  At 'em, Beauty!  At 'em, Fangs!"
+cried the Friar, pointing at Robin.
+
+And now it was well for that yeoman that a tree stood nigh
+him beside the road, else had he had an ill chance of it.
+Ere one could say "Gaffer Downthedale" the hounds were upon him,
+and he had only time to drop his sword and leap lightly into the tree,
+around which the hounds gathered, looking up at him as though he were
+a cat on the eaves.  But the Friar quickly called off his dogs.
+"At 'em!" cried he, pointing down the road to where the yeomen
+were standing stock still with wonder of what they saw.
+As the hawk darts down upon its quarry, so sped the four dogs
+at the yeomen; but when the four men saw the hounds so coming,
+all with one accord, saving only Will Scarlet, drew each man
+his goose feather to his ear and let fly his shaft.
+
+And now the old ballad telleth of a wondrous thing that happened, for thus
+it says, that each dog so shot at leaped lightly aside, and as the arrow
+passed him whistling, caught it in his mouth and bit it in twain.
+Now it would have been an ill day for these four good fellows
+had not Will Scarlet stepped before the others and met the hounds
+as they came rushing.  "Why, how now, Fangs!" cried he sternly.
+"Down, Beauty!  Down, sirrah!  What means this?"
+
+At the sound of his voice each dog shrank back quickly and then
+straightway came to him and licked his hands and fawned upon him,
+as is the wont of dogs that meet one they know.  Then the four yeomen
+came forward, the hounds leaping around Will Scarlet joyously.
+"Why, how now!" cried the stout Friar, "what means this?
+Art thou wizard to turn those wolves into lambs?  Ha!" cried he,
+when they had come still nearer, "can I trust mine eyes?
+What means it that I see young Master William Gamwell
+in such company?"
+
+"Nay, Tuck," said the young man, as the four came forward to where Robin
+was now clambering down from the tree in which he had been roosting,
+he having seen that all danger was over for the time; "nay, Tuck, my name
+is no longer Will Gamwell, but Will Scarlet; and this is my good uncle,
+Robin Hood, with whom I am abiding just now."
+
+"Truly, good master," said the Friar, looking somewhat abashed
+and reaching out his great palm to Robin, "I ha' oft heard thy name
+both sung and spoken of, but I never thought to meet thee in battle.
+I crave thy forgiveness, and do wonder not that I found so stout
+a man against me."
+
+"Truly, most holy father," said Little John, "I am more thankful
+than e'er I was in all my life before that our good friend Scarlet
+knew thee and thy dogs.  I tell thee seriously that I felt my
+heart crumble away from me when I saw my shaft so miss its aim,
+and those great beasts of thine coming straight at me."
+
+"Thou mayst indeed be thankful, friend," said the Friar gravely.
+"But, Master Will, how cometh it that thou dost now abide in Sherwood?"
+
+"Why, Tuck, dost thou not know of my ill happening with my
+father's steward?" answered Scarlet.
+
+"Yea, truly, yet I knew not that thou wert in hiding because of it.
+Marry, the times are all awry when a gentleman must lie hidden
+for so small a thing."
+
+"But we are losing time," quoth Robin, "and I have yet to find
+that same Curtal Friar."
+
+"Why, uncle, thou hast not far to go," said Will Scarlet,
+pointing to the Friar, "for there he stands beside thee."
+
+"How?" quoth Robin, "art thou the man that I have been at such pains
+to seek all day, and have got such a ducking for?"
+
+"Why, truly," said the Friar demurely, "some do call me the Curtal Friar
+of Fountain Dale; others again call me in jest the Abbot of Fountain Abbey;
+others still again call me simple Friar Tuck."
+
+"I like the last name best," quoth Robin, "for it doth slip more glibly
+off the tongue.  But why didst thou not tell me thou wert he I sought,
+instead of sending me searching for black moonbeams?"
+
+"Why, truly, thou didst not ask me, good master," quoth stout Tuck;
+"but what didst thou desire of me?"
+
+"Nay," quoth Robin, "the day groweth late, and we cannot
+stand longer talking here.  Come back with us to Sherwood,
+and I will unfold all to thee as we travel along."
+
+So, without tarrying longer, they all departed, with the stout
+dogs at their heels, and wended their way back to Sherwood again;
+but it was long past nightfall ere they reached the greenwood tree.
+
+Now listen, for next I will tell how Robin Hood compassed the happiness
+of two young lovers, aided by the merry Friar Tuck of Fountain Dale.
+
+
+
+Robin Hood Compasses a Marriage
+
+AND NOW had come the morning when fair Ellen was to be married,
+and on which merry Robin had sworn that Allan a Dale should,
+as it were, eat out of the platter that had been filled
+for Sir Stephen of Trent.  Up rose Robin Hood, blithe and gay,
+up rose his merry men one and all, and up rose last of all stout
+Friar Tuck, winking the smart of sleep from out his eyes.
+Then, while the air seemed to brim over with the song of many birds,
+all blended together and all joying in the misty morn, each man
+raved face and hands in the leaping brook, and so the day began.
+
+"Now," quoth Robin, when they had broken their fast, and each man had eaten
+his fill, "it is time for us to set forth upon the undertaking that we have
+in hand for today.  I will choose me one score of my good men to go with me,
+for I may need aid; and thou, Will Scarlet, wilt abide here and be the chief
+while I am gone."  Then searching through all the band, each man of whom
+crowded forward eager to be chosen, Robin called such as he wished by name,
+until he had a score of stout fellows, the very flower of his yeomanrie.
+Besides Little John and Will Stutely were nigh all those famous lads of whom I
+have already told you.  Then, while those so chosen ran leaping, full of joy,
+to arm themselves with bow and shaft and broadsword, Robin Hood stepped aside
+into the covert, and there donned a gay, beribboned coat such as might have
+been worn by some strolling minstrel, and slung a harp across his shoulder,
+the better to carry out that part.
+
+All the band stared and many laughed, for never had they seen
+their master in such a fantastic guise before.
+
+"Truly," quoth Robin, holding up his arms and looking down at himself,
+"I do think it be somewhat of a gay, gaudy, grasshopper dress;
+but it is a pretty thing for all that, and doth not ill befit
+the turn of my looks, albeit I wear it but for the nonce.
+But stay, Little John, here are two bags that I would
+have thee carry in thy pouch for the sake of safekeeping.
+I can ill care for them myself beneath this motley."
+
+"Why, master," quoth Little John, taking the bags and weighing them
+in his hand, "here is the chink of gold."
+
+"Well, what an there be," said Robin, "it is mine own coin and
+the band is none the worse for what is there.  Come, busk ye, lads,"
+and he turned quickly away.  "Get ye ready straightway."
+Then gathering the score together in a close rank, in the midst
+of which were Allan a Dale and Friar Tuck, he led them forth upon
+their way from the forest shades.
+
+So they walked on for a long time till they had come out of Sherwood and
+to the vale of Rotherstream.  Here were different sights from what one saw
+in the forest; hedgerows, broad fields of barley corn, pasture lands rolling
+upward till they met the sky and all dotted over with flocks of white sheep,
+hayfields whence came the odor of new-mown hay that lay in smooth swathes over
+which skimmed the swifts in rapid flight; such they saw, and different was it,
+I wot, from the tangled depths of the sweet woodlands, but full as fair.
+Thus Robin led his band, walking blithely with chest thrown out and head
+thrown back, snuffing the odors of the gentle breeze that came drifting
+from over the hayfields.
+
+"Truly," quoth he, "the dear world is as fair here as in the woodland shades.
+Who calls it a vale of tears?  Methinks it is but the darkness in our
+minds that bringeth gloom to the world.  For what sayeth that merry song
+thou singest, Little John?  Is it not thus?
+
+ "_For when my love's eyes do thine, do thine,
+     And when her lips smile so rare,
+ The day it is jocund and fine, so fine,
+     Though let it be wet or be fair
+ And when the stout ale is all flowing so fast,
+ Our sorrows and troubles are things of the past_."
+
+
+"Nay," said Friar Tuck piously, "ye do think of profane things and of
+nought else; yet, truly, there be better safeguards against care and woe
+than ale drinking and bright eyes, to wit, fasting and meditation.
+Look upon me, have I the likeness of a sorrowful man?"
+
+At this a great shout of laughter went up from all around,
+for the night before the stout Friar had emptied twice as many
+canakins of ale as any one of all the merry men.
+
+"Truly," quoth Robin, when he could speak for laughter, "I should say
+that thy sorrows were about equal to thy goodliness."
+
+So they stepped along, talking, singing, jesting, and laughing,
+until they had come to a certain little church that belonged
+to the great estates owned by the rich Priory of Emmet.  Here it
+was that fair Ellen was to be married on that morn, and here
+was the spot toward which the yeomen had pointed their toes.
+On the other side of the road from where the church stood with waving
+fields of barley around, ran a stone wall along the roadside.
+Over the wall from the highway was a fringe of young trees
+and bushes, and here and there the wall itself was covered
+by a mass of blossoming woodbine that filled all the warm air
+far and near with its sweet summer odor.  Then straightway
+the yeomen leaped over the wall, alighting on the tall soft grass
+upon the other side, frightening a flock of sheep that lay there
+in the shade so that they scampered away in all directions.
+Here was a sweet cool shadow both from the wall and from
+the fair young trees and bushes, and here sat the yeomen down,
+and glad enough they were to rest after their long tramp
+of the morning.
+
+"Now," quoth Robin, "I would have one of you watch and tell me when he sees
+anyone coming to the church, and the one I choose shall be young David
+of Doncaster.  So get thee upon the wall, David, and hide beneath the woodbine
+so as to keep watch."
+
+Accordingly young David did as he was bidden, the others stretching themselves
+at length upon the grass, some talking together and others sleeping.
+Then all was quiet save only for the low voices of those that
+talked together, and for Allan's restless footsteps pacing up and down,
+for his soul was so full of disturbance that he could not stand still,
+and saving, also, for the mellow snoring of Friar Tuck, who enjoyed
+his sleep with a noise as of one sawing soft wood very slowly.
+Robin lay upon his back and gazed aloft into the leaves of the trees,
+his thought leagues away, and so a long time passed.
+
+Then up spoke Robin, "Now tell us, young David of Doncaster,
+what dost thou see?"
+
+Then David answered, "I see the white clouds floating and I feel
+the wind a-blowing and three black crows are flying over the wold;
+but nought else do I see, good master."
+
+So silence fell again and another time passed, broken only
+as I have said, till Robin, growing impatient, spake again.
+"Now tell me, young David, what dost thou see by this?"
+
+And David answered, "I see the windmills swinging and three tall poplar trees
+swaying against the sky, and a flock of fieldfares are flying over the hill;
+but nought else do I see, good master."
+
+So another time passed, till at last Robin asked young David once
+more what he saw; and David said, "I hear the cuckoo singing,
+and I see how the wind makes waves in the barley field;
+and now over the hill to the church cometh an old friar,
+and in his hands he carries a great bunch of keys; and lo!
+Now he cometh to the church door."
+
+Then up rose Robin Hood and shook Friar Tuck by the shoulder.
+"Come, rouse thee, holy man!" cried he; whereupon, with much grunting,
+the stout Tuck got to his feet.  "Marry, bestir thyself,"
+quoth Robin, "for yonder, in the church door, is one of thy cloth.
+Go thou and talk to him, and so get thyself into the church, that thou
+mayst be there when thou art wanted; meantime, Little John, Will Stutely,
+and I will follow thee anon."
+
+So Friar Tuck clambered over the wall, crossed the road, and came to
+the church, where the old friar was still laboring with the great key,
+the lock being somewhat rusty and he somewhat old and feeble.
+
+"Hilloa, brother," quoth Tuck, "let me aid thee."  So saying,
+he took the key from the other's hand and quickly opened the door
+with a turn of it.
+
+"Who art thou, good brother?" asked the old friar, in a high,
+wheezing voice.  "Whence comest thou, and whither art thou going?"
+And he winked and blinked at stout Friar Tuck like an owl at the sun.
+
+"Thus do I answer thy questions, brother," said the other.
+"My name is Tuck, and I go no farther than this spot, if thou wilt
+haply but let me stay while this same wedding is going forward.
+I come from Fountain Dale and, in truth, am a certain poor hermit,
+as one may say, for I live in a cell beside the fountain blessed
+by that holy Saint Ethelrada.  But, if I understand aught,
+there is to be a gay wedding here today; so, if thou mindest not,
+I would fain rest me in the cool shade within, for I would
+like to see this fine sight."
+
+"Truly, thou art welcome, brother," said the old man, leading the
+way within.  Meantime, Robin Hood, in his guise of harper,
+together with Little John and Will Stutely, had come to the church.
+Robin sat him down on a bench beside the door, but Little John,
+carrying the two bags of gold, went within, as did Will Stutely.
+
+So Robin sat by the door, looking up the road and down
+the road to see who might come, till, after a time, he saw
+six horsemen come riding sedately and slowly, as became them,
+for they were churchmen in high orders.  Then, when they
+had come nearer, Robin saw who they were, and knew them.
+The first was the Bishop of Hereford, and a fine figure he cut, I wot.
+His vestments were of the richest silk, and around his neck was
+a fair chain of beaten gold.  The cap that hid his tonsure was
+of black velvet, and around the edges of it were rows of jewels
+that flashed in the sunlight, each stone being set in gold.
+His hose were of flame-colored silk, and his shoes of black velvet,
+the long, pointed toes being turned up and fastened to his knees,
+and on either instep was embroidered a cross in gold thread.
+Beside the Bishop rode the Prior of Emmet upon a mincing palfrey.
+Rich were his clothes also, but not so gay as the stout
+Bishop's. Behind these were two of the higher brethren of Emmet,
+and behind these again two retainers belonging to the Bishop;
+for the Lord Bishop of Hereford strove to be as like the great
+barons as was in the power of one in holy orders.
+
+When Robin saw this train drawing near, with flash of jewels and silk
+and jingle of silver bells on the trappings of the nags, he looked sourly
+upon them.  Quoth he to himself, "Yon Bishop is overgaudy for a holy man.
+I do wonder whether his patron, who, methinks, was Saint Thomas, was given
+to wearing golden chains about his neck, silk clothing upon his body,
+and pointed shoes upon his feet; the money for all of which, God wot,
+hath been wrung from the sweat of poor tenants.  Bishop, Bishop, thy pride
+may have a fall ere thou wottest of it."
+
+So the holy men came to the church; the Bishop and the Prior jesting
+and laughing between themselves about certain fair dames, their words
+more befitting the lips of laymen, methinks, than holy clerks.
+Then they dismounted, and the Bishop, looking around,
+presently caught sight of Robin standing in the doorway.
+"Hilloa, good fellow," quoth he in a jovial voice, "who art thou
+that struttest in such gay feathers?"
+
+"A harper am I from the north country," quoth Robin, "and I can
+touch the strings, I wot, as never another man in all merry England
+can do.  Truly, good Lord Bishop, many a knight and burgher,
+clerk and layman, have danced to my music, willy-nilly, and most
+times greatly against their will; such is the magic of my harping.
+Now this day, my Lord Bishop, if I may play at this wedding,
+I do promise that I will cause the fair bride to love the man
+she marries with a love that shall last as long as that twain
+shall live together."
+
+"Ha! is it so?" cried the Bishop.  "Meanest thou this in sooth?"
+And he looked keenly at Robin, who gazed boldly back again into his eyes.
+"Now, if thou wilt cause this maiden (who hath verily bewitched my poor
+cousin Stephen) thus to love the man she is to marry, as thou sayst
+thou canst, I will give thee whatsoever thou wilt ask me in due measure.
+Let me have a taste of thy skill, fellow."
+
+"Nay," quoth Robin, "my music cometh not without I choose,
+even at a lord bishop's bidding.  In sooth, I will not play
+until the bride and bridegroom come."
+
+"Now, thou art a saucy varlet to speak so to my crest,"
+quoth the Bishop, frowning on Robin.  "Yet, I must needs bear
+with thee.  Look, Prior, hither cometh our cousin Sir Stephen,
+and his ladylove."
+
+And now, around the bend of the highroad, came others, riding upon horses.
+The first of all was a tall, thin man, of knightly bearing, dressed all in
+black silk, with a black velvet cap upon his head, turned up with scarlet.
+Robin looked, and had no doubt that this was Sir Stephen, both because
+of his knightly carriage and of his gray hairs.  Beside him rode a stout
+Saxon franklin, Ellen's father, Edward of Deirwold; behind those two came
+a litter borne by two horses, and therein was a maiden whom Robin knew must
+be Ellen.  Behind this litter rode six men-at-arms, the sunlight flashing
+on their steel caps as they came jingling up the dusty road.
+
+So these also came to the church, and there Sir Stephen leaped from
+his horse and, coming to the litter, handed fair Ellen out therefrom.
+Then Robin Hood looked at her, and could wonder no longer how it came
+about that so proud a knight as Sir Stephen of Trent wished to marry
+a common franklin's daughter; nor did he wonder that no ado was made
+about the matter, for she was the fairest maiden that ever he had beheld.
+Now, however, she was all pale and drooping, like a fair white lily
+snapped at the stem; and so, with bent head and sorrowful look,
+she went within the church, Sir Stephen leading her by the hand.
+
+"Why dost thou not play, fellow?" quoth the Bishop, looking sternly at Robin.
+
+"Marry," said Robin calmly, "I will play in greater wise than
+Your Lordship thinks, but not till the right time hath come."
+
+Said the Bishop to himself, while he looked grimly at Robin, "When this
+wedding is gone by I will have this fellow well whipped for his saucy
+tongue and bold speech."
+
+And now fair Ellen and Sir Stephen stood before the altar,
+and the Bishop himself came in his robes and opened his book,
+whereat fair Ellen looked up and about her in bitter despair,
+like the fawn that finds the hounds on her haunch.
+Then, in all his fluttering tags and ribbons of red and yellow,
+Robin Hood strode forward.  Three steps he took from the pillar
+whereby he leaned, and stood between the bride and bridegroom.
+
+"Let me look upon this lass," he said in a loud voice.  "Why, how now!
+What have we here?  Here be lilies in the cheeks, and not roses such
+as befit a bonny bride.  This is no fit wedding.  Thou, Sir Knight,
+so old, and she so young, and thou thinkest to make her thy wife?
+I tell thee it may not be, for thou art not her own true love."
+
+At this all stood amazed, and knew not where to look nor what to think or say,
+for they were all bewildered with the happening; so, while everyone looked
+at Robin as though they had been changed to stone, he clapped his bugle
+horn to his lips and blew three blasts so loud and clear, they echoed
+from floor to rafter as though they were sounded by the trump of doom.
+Then straightway Little John and Will Stutely came leaping and stood
+upon either side of Robin Hood, and quickly drew their broadswords,
+the while a mighty voice rolled over the heads of all, "Here be I,
+good master, when thou wantest me"; for it was Friar Tuck that so called
+from the organ loft.
+
+And now all was hubbub and noise.  Stout Edward strode forward raging,
+and would have seized his daughter to drag her away, but Little John
+stepped between and thrust him back.  "Stand back, old man," said he,
+"thou art a hobbled horse this day."
+
+"Down with the villains!" cried Sir Stephen, and felt for his sword,
+but it hung not beside him on his wedding day.
+
+Then the men-at-arms drew their swords, and it seemed like that blood
+would wet the stones; but suddenly came a bustle at the door and
+loud voices, steel flashed in the light, and the crash of blows sounded.
+The men-at-arms fell back, and up the aisle came leaping eighteen stout
+yeomen all clad in Lincoln green, with Allan a Dale at their head.
+In his hand he bore Robin Hood's good stout trusty bow of yew,
+and this he gave to him, kneeling the while upon one knee.
+
+Then up spake Edward of Deirwold in a deep voice of anger, "Is it thou,
+Allan a Dale, that hath bred all this coil in a church?"
+
+"Nay," quoth merry Robin, "that have I done, and I care not who knoweth it,
+for my name is Robin Hood."
+
+At this name a sudden silence fell.  The Prior of Emmet and those
+that belonged to him gathered together like a flock of frightened
+sheep when the scent of the wolf is nigh, while the Bishop
+of Hereford, laying aside his book, crossed himself devoutly.
+"Now Heaven keep us this day," said he, "from that evil man!"
+
+"Nay," quoth Robin, "I mean you no harm; but here is fair Ellen's
+betrothed husband, and she shall marry him or pain will be bred
+to some of you."
+
+Then up spake stout Edward in a loud and angry voice, "Now I say nay!
+I am her father, and she shall marry Sir Stephen and none other."
+
+Now all this time, while everything was in turmoil about him,
+Sir Stephen had been standing in proud and scornful silence.
+"Nay, fellow," said he coldly, "thou mayst take thy daughter back again;
+I would not marry her after this day's doings could I gain all
+merry England thereby.  I tell thee plainly, I loved thy daughter,
+old as I am, and would have taken her up like a jewel from
+the sty, yet, truly, I knew not that she did love this fellow,
+and was beloved by him.  Maiden, if thou dost rather choose
+a beggarly minstrel than a high-born knight, take thy choice.
+I do feel it shame that I should thus stand talking amid this herd,
+and so I will leave you."  Thus saying, he turned and,
+gathering his men about him, walked proudly down the aisle.
+Then all the yeomen were silenced by the scorn of his words.
+Only Friar Tuck leaned over the edge of the choir loft and called
+out to him ere he had gone, "Good den, Sir Knight.  Thou wottest
+old bones must alway make room for young blood."  Sir Stephen
+neither answered nor looked up, but passed out from the church
+as though he had heard nought, his men following him.
+
+Then the Bishop of Hereford spoke hastily, "I, too, have no
+business here, and so will depart."  And he made as though he would go.
+But Robin Hood laid hold of his clothes and held him.
+"Stay, my Lord Bishop," said he, "I have yet somewhat to say to thee."
+The Bishop's face fell, but he stayed as Robin bade him,
+for he saw he could not go.
+
+Then Robin Hood turned to stout Edward of Deirwold, and said he,
+"Give thy blessing on thy daughter's marriage to this yeoman, and all
+will be well.  Little John, give me the bags of gold.  Look, farmer.
+Here are two hundred bright golden angels; give thy blessing,
+as I say, and I will count them out to thee as thy daughter's dower.
+Give not thy blessing, and she shall be married all the same,
+but not so much as a cracked farthing shall cross thy palm.  Choose."
+
+Then Edward looked upon the ground with bent brows, turning the matter over
+and over in his mind; but he was a shrewd man and one, withal, that made
+the best use of a cracked pipkin; so at last he looked up and said,
+but in no joyous tone, "If the wench will go her own gait, let her go.
+I had thought to make a lady of her; yet if she chooses to be
+what she is like to be, I have nought to do with her henceforth.
+Ne'ertheless I will give her my blessing when she is duly wedded."
+
+"It may not be," spake up one of those of Emmet.  "The banns have not been
+duly published, neither is there any priest here to marry them."
+
+"How sayst thou?" roared Tuck from the choir loft.  "No priest?
+Marry, here stands as holy a man as thou art, any day of the week,
+a clerk in orders, I would have thee know.  As for the question of banns,
+stumble not over that straw, brother, for I will publish them."
+So saying, he called the banns; and, says the old ballad, lest three times
+should not be enough, he published them nine times o'er. Then straightway
+he came down from the loft and forthwith performed the marriage service;
+and so Allan and Ellen were duly wedded.
+
+And now Robin counted out two hundred golden angels to Edward
+of Deirwold, and he, upon his part, gave his blessing, yet not,
+I wot, as though he meant it with overmuch good will.
+Then the stout yeomen crowded around and grasped Allan's palm,
+and he, holding Ellen's hand within his own, looked about him
+all dizzy with his happiness.
+
+Then at last jolly Robin turned to the Bishop of Hereford,
+who had been looking on at all that passed with a grim look.
+"My Lord Bishop," quoth he, "thou mayst bring to thy mind that thou
+didst promise me that did I play in such wise as to cause this fair
+lass to love her husband, thou wouldst give me whatsoever I asked
+in reason.  I have played my play, and she loveth her husband,
+which she would not have done but for me; so now fulfill thy promise.
+Thou hast upon thee that which, methinks, thou wouldst be the
+better without; therefore, I prythee, give me that golden chain
+that hangeth about thy neck as a wedding present for this fair bride."
+
+Then the Bishop's cheeks grew red with rage and his eyes flashed.
+He looked at Robin with a fell look, but saw that in the yeoman's
+face which bade him pause.  Then slowly he took the chain
+from about his neck and handed it to Robin, who flung it over
+Ellen's head so that it hung glittering about her shoulders.
+Then said merry Robin, "I thank thee, on the bride's part,
+for thy handsome gift, and truly thou thyself art more seemly
+without it.  Now, shouldst thou ever come nigh to Sherwood I
+much hope that I shall give thee there such a feast as thou
+hast ne'er had in all thy life before."
+
+"May Heaven forfend!" cried the Bishop earnestly; for he knew
+right well what manner of feast it was that Robin Hood gave
+his guests in Sherwood Forest.
+
+But now Robin Hood gathered his men together, and, with Allan
+and his young bride in their midst, they all turned
+their footsteps toward the woodlands.  On the way thither
+Friar Tuck came close to Robin and plucked him by the sleeve.
+"Thou dost lead a merry life, good master," quoth he,
+"but dost thou not think that it would be for the welfare
+of all your souls to have a good stout chaplain, such as I,
+to oversee holy matters?  Truly, I do love this life mightily."
+At this merry Robin Hood laughed amain, and bade him stay
+and become one of their band if he wished.
+
+That night there was such a feast held in the greenwood as Nottinghamshire
+never saw before.  To that feast you and I were not bidden, and pity it is
+that we were not; so, lest we should both feel the matter the more keenly,
+I will say no more about it.
+
+
+
+Robin Hood Aids a Sorrowful Knight
+
+SO PASSED the gentle springtime away in budding beauty; its silver
+showers and sunshine, its green meadows and its flowers.  So, likewise,
+passed the summer with its yellow sunlight, its quivering heat and deep,
+bosky foliage, its long twilights and its mellow nights, through which
+the frogs croaked and fairy folk were said to be out on the hillsides.
+All this had passed and the time of fall had come, bringing with it its own
+pleasures and joyousness; for now, when the harvest was gathered home,
+merry bands of gleaners roamed the country about, singing along the roads in
+the daytime, and sleeping beneath the hedgerows and the hay-ricks at night.
+Now the hips burned red in the tangled thickets and the hews waxed
+black in the hedgerows, the stubble lay all crisp and naked to the sky,
+and the green leaves were fast turning russet and brown.  Also, at this
+merry season, good things of the year are gathered in in great store.
+Brown ale lies ripening in the cellar, hams and bacon hang in the smoke-shed,
+and crabs are stowed away in the straw for roasting in the wintertime,
+when the north wind piles the snow in drifts around the gables and the fire
+crackles warm upon the hearth.
+
+So passed the seasons then, so they pass now, and so they will pass
+in time to come, while we come and go like leaves of the tree that fall
+and are soon forgotten.
+
+
+Quoth Robin Hood, snuffing the air, "Here is a fair day,
+Little John, and one that we can ill waste in idleness.
+Choose such men as thou dost need, and go thou east while I
+will wend to the west, and see that each of us bringeth back
+some goodly guest to dine this day beneath the greenwood tree."
+
+"Marry," cried Little John, clapping his palms together
+for joy, "thy bidding fitteth my liking like heft to blade.
+I'll bring thee back a guest this day, or come not back
+mine own self."
+
+Then they each chose such of the band as they wished, and so went
+forth by different paths from the forest.
+
+Now, you and I cannot go two ways at the same time while we join
+in these merry doings; so we will e'en let Little John follow his
+own path while we tuck up our skirts and trudge after Robin Hood.
+And here is good company, too; Robin Hood, Will Scarlet, Allan
+a Dale, Will Scathelock, Midge, the Miller's son, and others.
+A score or more of stout fellows had abided in the forest,
+with Friar Tuck, to make ready for the homecoming, but all the rest
+were gone either with Robin Hood or Little John.
+
+They traveled onward, Robin following his fancy and the others
+following Robin.  Now they wended their way through an open
+dale with cottage and farm lying therein, and now again they
+entered woodlands once more.  Passing by fair Mansfield Town,
+with its towers and battlements and spires all smiling in the sun,
+they came at last out of the forest lands.  Onward they journeyed,
+through highway and byway, through villages where goodwives and merry
+lasses peeped through the casements at the fine show of young men,
+until at last they came over beyond Alverton in Derbyshire.  By this
+time high noontide had come, yet they had met no guest such as was
+worth their while to take back to Sherwood; so, coming at last to
+a certain spot where a shrine stood at the crossing of two roads,
+Robin called upon them to stop, for here on either side was shelter
+of high hedgerows, behind which was good hiding, whence they could
+watch the roads at their ease, while they ate their midday meal.
+Quoth merry Robin, "Here, methinks, is good lodging, where peaceful folk,
+such as we be, can eat in quietness; therefore we will rest here,
+and see what may, perchance, fall into our luck-pot." So they crossed
+a stile and came behind a hedgerow where the mellow sunlight was bright
+and warm, and where the grass was soft, and there sat them down.
+Then each man drew from the pouch that hung beside him that
+which he had brought to eat, for a merry walk such as this had
+been sharpens the appetite till it is as keen as a March wind.
+So no more words were spoken, but each man saved his teeth for better use--
+munching at brown crust and cold meat right lustily.
+
+In front of them, one of the highroads crawled up the steep hill
+and then dipped suddenly over its crest, sharp-cut with hedgerow
+and shaggy grass against the sky.  Over the top of the windy hill
+peeped the eaves of a few houses of the village that fell back
+into the valley behind; there, also, showed the top of a windmill,
+the sails slowly rising and dipping from behind the hill against
+the clear blue sky, as the light wind moved them with creaking
+and labored swing.
+
+So the yeomen lay behind the hedge and finished their midday meal;
+but still the time slipped along and no one came.  At last,
+a man came slowly riding over the hill and down the stony
+road toward the spot where Robin and his band lay hidden.
+He was a good stout knight, but sorrowful of face and downcast
+of mien.  His clothes were plain and rich, but no chain of gold,
+such as folk of his stand in life wore at most times,
+hung around his neck, and no jewel was about him; yet no one
+could mistake him for aught but one of proud and noble blood.
+His head was bowed upon his breast and his hands drooped limp
+on either side; and so he came slowly riding, as though sunk
+in sad thoughts, while even his good horse, the reins loose
+upon his neck, walked with hanging head, as though he shared
+his master's grief.
+
+Quoth Robin Hood, "Yon is verily a sorry-looking gallant,
+and doth seem to have donned ill-content with his jerkin
+this morning; nevertheless, I will out and talk with him,
+for there may be some pickings here for a hungry daw.
+Methinks his dress is rich, though he himself is so downcast.
+Bide ye here till I look into this matter."  So saying,
+he arose and left them, crossed the road to the shrine,
+and there stood, waiting for the sorrowful knight to come near him.
+So, presently, when the knight came riding slowly along,
+jolly Robin stepped forward and laid his hand upon the bridle rein.
+"Hold, Sir Knight," quoth he.  "I prythee tarry for a short time,
+for I have a few words to say to thee."
+
+"What art thou, friend, who dost stop a traveler in this manner
+upon his most gracious Majesty's highway?" said the Knight.
+
+"Marry," quoth Robin, "that is a question hard to answer.
+One man calleth me kind, another calleth me cruel; this one
+calleth me good honest fellow, and that one, vile thief.
+Truly, the world hath as many eyes to look upon a man withal
+as there are spots on a toad; so, with what pair of eyes
+thou regardest me lieth entirely with thine own self.
+My name is Robin Hood."
+
+"Truly, good Robin," said the Knight, a smile twitching
+at the corners of his mouth, "thou hast a quaint conceit.
+As for the pair of eyes with which I regard thee, I would say
+that they are as favorable as may be, for I hear much good
+of thee and little ill.  What is thy will of me?"
+
+"Now, I make my vow, Sir Knight," quoth Robin, "thou hast surely learned
+thy wisdom of good Gaffer Swanthold, for he sayeth, `Fair words are
+as easy spoke as foul, and bring good will in the stead of blows.'
+Now I will show thee the truth of this saying; for, if thou wilt go
+with me this day to Sherwood Forest, I will give thee as merry a feast
+as ever thou hadst in all thy life."
+
+"Thou art indeed kind," said the Knight, "but methinks
+thou wilt find me but an ill-seeming and sorrowful guest.
+Thou hadst best let me pass on my way in peace."
+
+"Nay," quoth Robin, "thou mightst go thine own way but for one thing,
+and that I will tell thee.  We keep an inn, as it were,
+in the very depths of Sherwood, but so far from highroads and beaten
+paths that guests do not often come nigh us; so I and my friends
+set off merrily and seek them when we grow dull of ourselves.
+Thus the matter stands, Sir Knight; yet I will furthermore tell
+thee that we count upon our guests paying a reckoning."
+
+"I take thy meaning, friend," said the Knight gravely, "but I am not thy man,
+for I have no money by me."
+
+"Is it sooth?" said Robin, looking at the Knight keenly.  "I can scarce
+choose but believe thee; yet, Sir Knight, there be those of thy order whose
+word is not to be trusted as much as they would have others believe.
+Thou wilt think no ill if I look for myself in this matter."
+Then, still holding the horse by the bridle rein, he put his fingers
+to his lips and blew a shrill whistle, whereupon fourscore yeomen came
+leaping over the stile and ran to where the Knight and Robin stood.
+"These," said Robin, looking upon them proudly, "are some of my merry men.
+They share and share alike with me all joys and troubles, gains and losses.
+Sir Knight, I prythee tell me what money thou hast about thee."
+
+For a time the Knight said not a word, but a slow red arose into his cheeks;
+at last he looked Robin in the face and said, "I know not why I should
+be ashamed, for it should be no shame to me; but, friend, I tell thee
+the truth, when I say that in my purse are ten shillings, and that that is
+every groat that Sir Richard of the Lea hath in all the wide world."
+
+When Sir Richard ended a silence fell, until at last Robin said,
+"And dost thou pledge me thy knightly word that this is all thou
+hast with thee?"
+
+"Yea," answered Sir Richard, "I do pledge thee my most solemn word,
+as a true knight, that it is all the money I have in the world.
+Nay, here is my purse, ye may find for yourselves the truth of what I say."
+And he held his purse out to Robin.
+
+"Put up thy purse, Sir Richard," quoth Robin.  "Far be it from me
+to doubt the word of so gentle a knight.  The proud I strive to
+bring low, but those that walk in sorrow I would aid if I could.
+Come, Sir Richard, cheer up thy heart and go with us into the greenwood.
+Even I may perchance aid thee, for thou surely knowest how the good
+Athelstane was saved by the little blind mole that digged a trench
+over which he that sought the king's life stumbled."
+
+"Truly, friend," said Sir Richard, "methinks thou meanest kindness
+in thine own way; nevertheless my troubles are such that it is
+not likely that thou canst cure them.  But I will go with thee
+this day into Sherwood."  Hereupon he turned his horse's head,
+and they all wended their way to the woodlands, Robin walking
+on one side of the Knight and Will Scarlet on the other,
+while the rest of the band trudged behind.
+
+After they had traveled thus for a time Robin Hood spake.
+"Sir Knight," said he, "I would not trouble thee with idle questions;
+but dost thou find it in thy heart to tell me thy sorrows?"
+
+"Truly, Robin," quoth the Knight, "I see no reason why I should not do so.
+Thus it is:  My castle and my lands are in pawn for a debt that I owe.
+Three days hence the money must be paid or else all mine estate is
+lost forever, for then it falls into the hands of the Priory of Emmet,
+and what they swallow they never give forth again."
+
+Quoth Robin, "I understand not why those of thy kind live in such
+a manner that all their wealth passeth from them like snow beneath
+the springtide sun."
+
+"Thou wrongest me, Robin," said the Knight, "for listen:
+I have a son but twenty winters old, nevertheless he has
+won his spurs as knight.  Last year, on a certain evil day,
+the jousts were held at Chester, and thither my son went,
+as did I and my lady wife.  I wot it was a proud time for us,
+for he unhorsed each knight that he tilted against.
+At last he ran a course with a certain great knight,
+Sir Walter of Lancaster, yet, though my son was so youthful,
+he kept his seat, albeit both spears were shivered to the heft;
+but it happened that a splinter of my boy's lance ran through
+the visor of Sir Walter's helmet and pierced through his eye
+into his brain, so that he died ere his esquire could unlace
+his helm.  Now, Robin, Sir Walter had great friends at court,
+therefore his kinsmen stirred up things against my son so that,
+to save him from prison, I had to pay a ransom of six hundred
+pounds in gold.  All might have gone well even yet, only that,
+by ins and outs and crookedness of laws, I was shorn like
+a sheep that is clipped to the quick.  So it came that I
+had to pawn my lands to the Priory of Emmet for more money,
+and a hard bargain they drove with me in my hour of need.
+Yet I would have thee understand I grieve so for my lands
+only because of my dear lady wife."
+
+"But where is thy son now?" asked Robin, who had listened closely
+to all the Knight had said.
+
+"In Palestine," said Sir Richard, "battling like a brave
+Christian soldier for the cross and the holy sepulcher.
+Truly, England was an ill place for him because of Sir Walter's
+death and the hate of the Lancastrian's kinsmen."
+
+"Truly," said Robin, much moved, "thine is a hard lot.
+But tell me, what is owing to Emmet for thine estates?"
+
+"Only four hundred pounds," said Sir Richard.
+
+At this, Robin smote his thigh in anger.  "O the bloodsuckers!"
+cried he.  "A noble estate to be forfeit for four hundred pounds!
+But what will befall thee if thou dost lose thy lands, Sir Richard?"
+
+"It is not mine own lot that doth trouble me in that case,"
+said the Knight, "but my dear lady's; for should I lose my land
+she will have to betake herself to some kinsman and there abide
+in charity, which, methinks, would break her proud heart.
+As for me, I will over the salt sea, and so to Palestine to join
+my son in fight for the holy sepulcher."
+
+Then up spake Will Scarlet.  "But hast thou no friend that will help thee
+in thy dire need?"
+
+"Never a man," said Sir Richard.  "While I was rich enow at home,
+and had friends, they blew great boasts of how they loved me.
+But when the oak falls in the forest the swine run from beneath it
+lest they should be smitten down also.  So my friends have left me;
+for not only am I poor but I have great enemies."
+
+Then Robin said, "Thou sayst thou hast no friends, Sir Richard.  I make
+no boast, but many have found Robin Hood a friend in their troubles.
+Cheer up, Sir Knight, I may help thee yet."
+
+The Knight shook his head with a faint smile, but for all that,
+Robin's words made him more blithe of heart, for in truth hope,
+be it never so faint, bringeth a gleam into darkness, like a little
+rushlight that costeth but a groat.
+
+The day was well-nigh gone when they came near to the greenwood tree.
+Even at a distance they saw by the number of men that Little John had come
+back with some guest, but when they came near enough, whom should they find
+but the Lord Bishop of Hereford!  The good Bishop was in a fine stew, I wot.
+Up and down he walked beneath the tree like a fox caught in a hencoop.
+Behind him were three Black Friars standing close together
+in a frightened group, like three black sheep in a tempest.
+Hitched to the branches of the trees close at hand were six horses,
+one of them a barb with gay trappings upon which the Bishop was wont
+to ride, and the others laden with packs of divers shapes and kinds,
+one of which made Robin's eyes glisten, for it was a box not overlarge,
+but heavily bound with bands and ribs of iron.
+
+When the Bishop saw Robin and those with him come into the open he made
+as though he would have run toward the yeoman, but the fellow that guarded
+the Bishop and the three friars thrust his quarterstaff in front,
+so that his lordship was fain to stand back, though with frowning brow
+and angry speech.
+
+"Stay, my Lord Bishop," cried jolly Robin in a loud voice,
+when he saw what had passed, "I will come to thee with all speed,
+for I would rather see thee than any man in merry England."  So saying,
+he quickened his steps and soon came to where the Bishop stood fuming.
+
+"How now," quoth the Bishop in a loud and angry voice, when Robin
+had so come to him, "is this the way that thou and thy band
+treat one so high in the church as I am?  I and these brethren
+were passing peacefully along the highroad with our pack horses,
+and a half score of men to guard them, when up comes a great strapping
+fellow full seven feet high, with fourscore or more men back of him,
+and calls upon me to stop--me, the Lord Bishop of Hereford, mark thou!
+Whereupon my armed guards--beshrew them for cowards!--straight ran away.
+But look ye; not only did this fellow stop me, but he threatened me,
+saying that Robin Hood would strip me as bare as a winter hedge.
+Then, besides all this, he called me such vile names as `fat priest,'
+`man-eating bishop,' `money-gorging usurer,' and what not, as though
+I were no more than a strolling beggar or tinker."
+
+At this, the Bishop glared like an angry cat, while even
+Sir Richard laughed; only Robin kept a grave face.  "Alas! my lord,"
+said he, "that thou hast been so ill-treated by my band!
+I tell thee truly that we greatly reverence thy cloth.
+Little John, stand forth straightway."
+
+At these words Little John came forward, twisting his face into a
+whimsical look, as though he would say, "Ha' mercy upon me, good master."
+Then Robin turned to the Bishop of Hereford and said, "Was this the man
+who spake so boldly to Your Lordship?"
+
+"Ay, truly it was the same," said the Bishop, "a naughty fellow, I wot.
+
+"And didst thou, Little John," said Robin in a sad voice,
+"call his lordship a fat priest?"
+
+"Ay," said Little John sorrowfully.
+
+"And a man-eating bishop?"
+
+"Ay," said Little John, more sorrowfully than before.
+
+"And a money-gorging usurer?"
+
+"Ay," said Little John in so sorrowful a voice that it might have drawn
+tears from the Dragon of Wentley.
+
+"Alas, that these things should be!" said jolly Robin, turning to the Bishop,
+"for I have ever found Little John a truthful man."
+
+At this, a roar of laughter went up, whereat the blood rushed
+into the Bishop's face till it was cherry red from crown to chin;
+but he said nothing and only swallowed his words, though they
+well-nigh choked him.
+
+"Nay, my Lord Bishop," said Robin, "we are rough fellows,
+but I trust not such ill men as thou thinkest, after all.
+There is not a man here that would harm a hair of thy reverence's head.
+I know thou art galled by our jesting, but we are all equal here in
+the greenwood, for there are no bishops nor barons nor earls among us,
+but only men, so thou must share our life with us while thou dost
+abide here.  Come, busk ye, my merry men, and get the feast ready.
+Meantime, we will show our guests our woodland sports."
+
+So, while some went to kindle the fires for roasting meats,
+others ran leaping to get their cudgels and longbows.
+Then Robin brought forward Sir Richard of the Lea.  "My Lord Bishop,"
+said he, "here is another guest that we have with us this day.
+I wish that thou mightest know him better, for I and all my men
+will strive to honor you both at this merrymaking."
+
+"Sir Richard," said the Bishop in a reproachful tone, "methinks thou
+and I are companions and fellow sufferers in this den of--"
+He was about to say "thieves," but he stopped suddenly and looked
+askance at Robin Hood.
+
+"Speak out, Bishop," quoth Robin, laughing.  "We of Sherwood
+check not an easy flow of words.  `Den of thieves' thou west
+about to say."
+
+Quoth the Bishop, "Mayhap that was what I meant to say, Sir Richard;
+but this I will say, that I saw thee just now laugh at the scurrilous
+jests of these fellows.  It would have been more becoming of thee,
+methinks, to have checked them with frowns instead of spurring them
+on by laughter."
+
+"I meant no harm to thee," said Sir Richard, "but a merry jest
+is a merry jest, and I may truly say I would have laughed at it
+had it been against mine own self."
+
+But now Robin Hood called upon certain ones of his band who
+spread soft moss upon the ground and laid deerskins thereon.
+Then Robin bade his guests be seated, and so they all three sat down,
+some of the chief men, such as Little John, Will Scarlet, Allan a Dale,
+and others, stretching themselves upon the ground near by.
+Then a garland was set up at the far end of the glade,
+and thereat the bowmen shot, and such shooting was done
+that day as it would have made one's heart leap to see.
+And all the while Robin talked so quaintly to the Bishop and
+the Knight that, the one forgetting his vexation and the other
+his troubles, they both laughed aloud again and again.
+
+Then Allan a Dale came forth and tuned his harp, and all was hushed around,
+and he sang in his wondrous voice songs of love, of war, of glory,
+and of sadness, and all listened without a movement or a sound.
+So Allan sang till the great round silver moon gleamed with its clear
+white light amid the upper tangle of the mazy branches of the trees.
+At last two fellows came to say that the feast was ready spread,
+so Robin, leading his guests with either hand, brought them
+to where great smoking dishes that sent savory smells far and near
+stood along the white linen cloth spread on the grass.  All around
+was a glare of torches that lit everything up with a red light.
+Then, straightway sitting down, all fell to with noise and hubbub,
+the rattling of platters blending with the sound of loud talking
+and laughter.  A long time the feast lasted, but at last all
+was over, and the bright wine and humming ale passed briskly.
+Then Robin Hood called aloud for silence, and all was hushed
+till he spoke.
+
+"I have a story to tell you all, so listen to what I have to say,"
+quoth he; whereupon, without more ado, he told them all about Sir Richard,
+and how his lands were in pawn.  But, as he went on, the Bishop's face,
+that had erst been smiling and ruddy with merriment, waxed serious,
+and he put aside the horn of wine he held in his hand, for he knew the story
+of Sir Richard, and his heart sank within him with grim forebodings.
+Then, when Robin Hood had done, he turned to the Bishop of Hereford.  "Now, my
+Lord Bishop," said he, "dost thou not think this is ill done of anyone,
+much more of a churchman, who should live in humbleness and charity?"
+
+To this the Bishop answered not a word but looked upon the ground
+with moody eyes.
+
+Quoth Robin, "Now, thou art the richest bishop in all England;
+canst thou not help this needy brother?"  But still the Bishop
+answered not a word.
+
+Then Robin turned to Little John, and quoth he, "Go thou and
+Will Stutely and bring forth those five pack horses yonder."
+Whereupon the two yeomen did as they were bidden, those about
+the cloth making room on the green, where the light was brightest,
+for the five horses which Little John and Will Stutely
+presently led forward.
+
+"Who hath the score of the goods?" asked Robin Hood, looking at
+the Black Friars.
+
+Then up spake the smallest of all, in a trembling voice--
+an old man he was, with a gentle, wrinkled face.
+"That have I; but, I pray thee, harm me not."
+
+"Nay," quoth Robin, "I have never harmed harmless man yet;
+but give it to me, good father."  So the old man did as
+he was bidden, and handed Robin the tablet on which was marked
+down the account of the various packages upon the horses.
+This Robin handed to Will Scarlet, bidding him to read the same.
+So Will Scarlet, lifting his voice that all might hear, began:
+
+"Three bales of silk to Quentin, the mercer at Ancaster."
+
+"That we touch not," quoth Robin, "for this Quentin
+is an honest fellow, who hath risen by his own thrift."
+So the bales of silk were laid aside unopened.
+
+" One bale of silk velvet for the Abbey of Beaumont."
+
+"What do these priests want of silk velvet?"
+quoth Robin.  "Nevertheless, though they need it not,
+I will not take all from them.  Measure it off into three lots,
+one to be sold for charity, one for us, and one for the abbey."
+So this, too, was done as Robin Hood bade.
+
+"Twoscore of great wax candles for the Chapel of Saint Thomas."
+
+"That belongeth fairly to the chapel," quoth Robin, "so lay it to one side.
+Far be it from us to take from the blessed Saint Thomas that which
+belongeth to him."  So this, also, was done according to Robin's bidding,
+and the candles were laid to one side, along with honest Quentin's
+unopened bales of silk.  So the list was gone through with,
+and the goods adjudged according to what Robin thought most fit.
+Some things were laid aside untouched, and many were opened and divided
+into three equal parts, for charity, for themselves, and for the owners.
+And now all the ground in the torchlight was covered over with
+silks and velvets and cloths of gold and cases of rich wines,
+and so they came to the last line upon the tablet--" A box belonging
+to the Lord Bishop of Hereford."
+
+At these words the Bishop shook as with a chill, and the box
+was set upon the ground.
+
+"My Lord Bishop, hast thou the key of this box?" asked Robin.
+
+The Bishop shook his head.
+
+"Go, Will Scarlet," said Robin, "thou art the strongest man here--
+bring a sword straightway, and cut this box open, if thou canst."
+Then up rose Will Scarlet and left them, coming back in a short time,
+bearing a great two-handed sword.  Thrice he smote that strong,
+ironbound box, and at the third blow it burst open and a great heap
+of gold came rolling forth, gleaming red in the light of the torches.
+At this sight a murmur went all around among the band, like the
+sound of the wind in distant trees; but no man came forward nor
+touched the money.
+
+Quoth Robin, "Thou, Will Scarlet, thou, Allan a Dale, and thou,
+Little John, count it over."
+
+A long time it took to count all the money, and when it had been duly
+scored up, Will Scarlet called out that there were fifteen hundred
+golden pounds in all.  But in among the gold they found a paper,
+and this Will Scarlet read in a loud voice, and all heard that this
+money was the rental and fines and forfeits from certain estates
+belonging to the Bishopric of Hereford.
+
+"My Lord Bishop," said Robin Hood, "I will not strip thee,
+as Little John said, like a winter hedge, for thou shalt take
+back one third of thy money.  One third of it thou canst
+well spare to us for thy entertainment and that of thy train,
+for thou art very rich; one third of it thou canst better spare
+for charity, for, Bishop, I hear that thou art a hard master
+to those beneath thee and a close hoarder of gains that thou
+couldst better and with more credit to thyself give to charity
+than spend upon thy own likings."
+
+At this the Bishop looked up, but he could say never a word;
+yet he was thankful to keep some of his wealth.
+
+Then Robin turned to Sir Richard of the Lea, and quoth he,
+"Now, Sir Richard, the church seemed like to despoil thee,
+therefore some of the overplus of church gains may well be used
+in aiding thee.  Thou shalt take that five hundred pounds laid
+aside for people more in need than the Bishop is, and shalt
+pay thy debts to Emmet therewith."
+
+Sir Richard looked at Robin until something arose in his
+eyes that made all the lights and the faces blur together.
+At last he said, "I thank thee, friend, from my heart, for what thou
+doest for me; yet, think not ill if I cannot take thy gift freely.
+But this I will do:  I will take the money and pay my debts,
+and in a year and a day hence will return it safe either to thee
+or to the Lord Bishop of Hereford.  For this I pledge my most
+solemn knightly word.  I feel free to borrow, for I know no man
+that should be more bound to aid me than one so high in that church
+that hath driven such a hard bargain."  "Truly, Sir Knight,"
+quoth Robin, "I do not understand those fine scruples that weigh
+with those of thy kind; but, nevertheless, it shall all be
+as thou dost wish.  But thou hadst best bring the money to me
+at the end of the year, for mayhap I may make better use of it
+than the Bishop."  Thereupon, turning to those near him, he gave
+his orders, and five hundred pounds were counted out and tied
+up in a leathern bag for Sir Richard.  The rest of the treasure
+was divided, and part taken to the treasurehouse of the band,
+and part put by with the other things for the Bishop.
+
+Then Sir Richard arose.  "I cannot stay later, good friends,"
+said he, "for my lady will wax anxious if I come not home;
+so I crave leave to depart."
+
+Then Robin Hood and all his merry men arose, and Robin said,
+"We cannot let thee go hence unattended, Sir Richard."
+
+Then up spake Little John, "Good master, let me choose a score
+of stout fellows from the band, and let us arm ourselves in a seemly
+manner and so serve as retainers to Sir Richard till he can get
+others in our stead."
+
+"Thou hast spoken well, Little John, and it shall be done," said Robin.
+
+Then up spake Will Scarlet, "Let us give him a golden chain
+to hang about his neck, such as befits one of his blood,
+and also golden spurs to wear at his heels."
+
+Then Robin Hood said, "Thou hast spoken well, Will Scarlet,
+and it shall be done."
+
+Then up spake Will Stutely, "Let us give him yon bale of rich
+velvet and yon roll of cloth of gold to take home to his noble
+lady wife as a present from Robin Hood and his merry men all."
+
+At this all clapped their hands for joy, and Robin said:
+"Thou hast well spoken, Will Stutely, and it shall be done."
+
+Then Sir Richard of the Lea looked all around and strove to speak,
+but could scarcely do so for the feelings that choked him; at last
+he said in a husky, trembling voice, "Ye shall all see, good friends,
+that Sir Richard o' the Lea will ever remember your kindness this day.
+And if ye be at any time in dire need or trouble, come to me and my lady,
+and the walls of Castle Lea shall be battered down ere harm shall
+befall you.  I--" He could say nothing further, but turned hastily away.
+
+But now Little John and nineteen stout fellows whom he had
+chosen for his band, came forth all ready for the journey.
+Each man wore upon his breast a coat of linked mail, and on
+his head a cap of steel, and at his side a good stout sword.
+A gallant show they made as they stood all in a row.
+Then Robin came and threw a chain of gold about Sir Richard's neck,
+and Will Scarlet knelt and buckled the golden spurs upon
+his heel; and now Little John led forward Sir Richard's horse,
+and the Knight mounted.  He looked down at Robin for a
+little time, then of a sudden stooped and kissed his cheek.
+All the forest glades rang with the shout that went up
+as the Knight and the yeomen marched off through the woodland
+with glare of torches and gleam of steel, and so were gone.
+
+Then up spake the Bishop of Hereford in a mournful voice, "I, too,
+must be jogging, good fellow, for the night waxes late."
+
+But Robin laid his hand upon the Bishop's arm and stayed him.
+"Be not so hasty, Lord Bishop," said he.  "Three days hence Sir Richard
+must pay his debts to Emmet; until that time thou must be content
+to abide with me lest thou breed trouble for the Knight.  I promise
+thee that thou shalt have great sport, for I know that thou art
+fond of hunting the dun deer.  Lay by thy mantle of melancholy,
+and strive to lead a joyous yeoman life for three stout days.
+I promise thee thou shalt be sorry to go when the time has come."
+
+So the Bishop and his train abided with Robin for three days, and much
+sport his lordship had in that time, so that, as Robin had said,
+when the time had come for him to go he was sorry to leave the greenwood.
+At the end of three days Robin set him free, and sent him forth from
+the forest with a guard of yeomen to keep freebooters from taking
+what was left of the packs and bundles.
+
+But, as the Bishop rode away, he vowed within himself that he would
+sometime make Robin rue the day that he stopped him in Sherwood.
+
+But now we shall follow Sir Richard; so listen, and you shall
+hear what befell him, and how he paid his debts at Emmet Priory,
+and likewise in due season to Robin Hood.
+
+
+
+How Sir Richard of the Lea Paid His Debts
+
+THE LONG HIGHWAY stretched straight on, gray and dusty in the sun.
+On either side were dikes full of water bordered by osiers,
+and far away in the distance stood the towers of Emmet Priory
+with tall poplar trees around.
+
+Along the causeway rode a knight with a score of stout
+men-at-arms behind him.  The Knight was clad in a plain,
+long robe of gray serge, gathered in at the waist with a broad
+leathern belt, from which hung a long dagger and a stout sword.
+But though he was so plainly dressed himself, the horse he rode
+was a noble barb, and its trappings were rich with silk
+and silver bells.
+
+So thus the band journeyed along the causeway between the dikes, till at
+last they reached the great gate of Emmet Priory.  There the Knight called
+to one of his men and bade him knock at the porter's lodge with the heft
+of his sword.
+
+The porter was drowsing on his bench within the lodge,
+but at the knock he roused himself and, opening the wicket,
+came hobbling forth and greeted the Knight, while a tame starling
+that hung in a wicker cage within piped out, "_In coelo quies!
+In coelo quies!_" such being the words that the poor old lame
+porter had taught him to speak.
+
+"Where is thy prior?" asked the Knight of the old porter.
+
+"He is at meat, good knight, and he looketh for thy coming,"
+quoth the porter, "for, if I mistake not, thou art Sir Richard
+of the Lea."
+
+"I am Sir Richard of the Lea; then I will go seek him forthwith,"
+said the Knight.
+
+"But shall I not send thy horse to stable?" said the porter.
+"By Our Lady, it is the noblest nag, and the best harnessed,
+that e'er I saw in all my life before."  And he stroked the horse's
+flank with his palm.
+
+"Nay," quoth Sir Richard, "the stables of this place are not for me,
+so make way, I prythee."  So saying, he pushed forward, and, the gates being
+opened, he entered the stony courtyard of the Priory, his men behind him.
+In they came with rattle of steel and clashing of swords, and ring of horses'
+feet on cobblestones, whereat a flock of pigeons that strutted in the sun
+flew with flapping wings to the high eaves of the round towers.
+
+
+While the Knight was riding along the causeway to Emmet,
+a merry feast was toward in the refectory there.  The afternoon
+sun streamed in through the great arched windows and lay in broad
+squares of light upon the stone floor and across the board covered
+with a snowy linen cloth, whereon was spread a princely feast.
+At the head of the table sat Prior Vincent of Emmet all clad
+in soft robes of fine cloth and silk; on his head was a black
+velvet cap picked out with gold, and around his neck hung
+a heavy chain of gold, with a great locket pendant therefrom.
+Beside him, on the arm of his great chair, roosted his favorite falcon,
+for the Prior was fond of the gentle craft of hawking.
+On his right hand sat the Sheriff of Nottingham in rich robes
+of purple all trimmed about with fur, and on his left a famous
+doctor of law in dark and sober garb.  Below these sat the high
+cellarer of Emmet, and others chief among the brethren.
+
+Jest and laughter passed around, and all was as merry as merry could be.
+The wizened face of the man of law was twisted into a wrinkled smile,
+for in his pouch were fourscore golden angels that the Prior had paid him
+in fee for the case betwixt him and Sir Richard of the Lea.  The learned
+doctor had been paid beforehand, for he had not overmuch trust in the holy
+Vincent of Emmet.
+
+Quoth the Sheriff of Nottingham, "But art thou sure, Sir Prior,
+that thou hast the lands so safe?"
+
+"Ay, marry," said Prior Vincent, smacking his lips after a deep
+draught of wine, "I have kept a close watch upon him, albeit he was
+unawares of the same, and I know right well that he hath no money
+to pay me withal."
+
+"Ay, true," said the man of law in a dry, husky voice, "his land
+is surely forfeit if he cometh not to pay; but, Sir Prior,
+thou must get a release beneath his sign manual, or else thou
+canst not hope to hold the land without trouble from him."
+
+"Yea," said the Prior, "so thou hast told me ere now, but I know that this
+knight is so poor that he will gladly sign away his lands for two hundred
+pounds of hard money.
+
+Then up spake the high cellarer, "Methinks it is a shame to so drive
+a misfortunate knight to the ditch.  I think it sorrow that the noblest
+estate in Derbyshire should so pass away from him for a paltry five
+hundred pounds.  Truly, I--"
+
+"How now," broke in the Prior in a quivering voice, his eyes glistening
+and his cheeks red with anger, "dost thou prate to my very beard, sirrah?
+By Saint Hubert, thou hadst best save thy breath to cool thy pottage,
+else it may scald thy mouth."
+
+"Nay," said the man of law smoothly, "I dare swear this same knight
+will never come to settlement this day, but will prove recreant.
+Nevertheless, we will seek some means to gain his lands from him,
+so never fear."
+
+But even as the doctor spoke, there came a sudden clatter of horses'
+hoofs and a jingle of iron mail in the courtyard below.
+Then up spake the Prior and called upon one of the brethren
+that sat below the salt, and bade him look out of the window
+and see who was below, albeit he knew right well it could
+be none but Sir Richard.
+
+So the brother arose and went and looked, and he said, "I see below a score
+of stout men-at-arms and a knight just dismounting from his horse.
+He is dressed in long robes of gray which, methinks, are of poor seeming;
+but the horse he rideth upon hath the richest coursing that ever I saw.
+The Knight dismounts and they come this way, and are even now below
+in the great hall."
+
+"Lo, see ye there now," quoth Prior Vincent.  "Here ye have
+a knight with so lean a purse as scarce to buy him a crust
+of bread to munch, yet he keeps a band of retainers and puts rich
+trappings upon his horse's hide, while his own back goeth bare.
+Is it not well that such men should be brought low?"
+
+"But art thou sure," said the little doctor tremulously,
+"that this knight will do us no harm?  Such as he are fierce
+when crossed, and he hath a band of naughty men at his heels.
+Mayhap thou hadst better give an extension of his debt."
+Thus he spake, for he was afraid Sir Richard might do him a harm.
+
+"Thou needst not fear," said the Prior, looking down at the little man
+beside him.  "This knight is gentle and would as soon think of harming
+an old woman as thee."
+
+As the Prior finished, a door at the lower end of the refectory swung open,
+and in came Sir Richard, with folded hands and head bowed upon his breast.
+Thus humbly he walked slowly up the hall, while his men-at-arms stood about
+the door.  When he had come to where the Prior sat, he knelt upon one knee.
+"Save and keep thee, Sir Prior," said he, "I am come to keep my day."
+
+Then the first word that the Prior said to him was "Hast thou
+brought my money?"
+
+"Alas!  I have not so much as one penny upon my body," said the Knight;
+whereat the Prior's eyes sparkled.
+
+"Now, thou art a shrewd debtor, I wot," said he.
+Then, "Sir Sheriff, I drink to thee."
+
+But still the Knight kneeled upon the hard stones, so the Prior turned
+to him again.  "What wouldst thou have?" quoth he sharply.
+
+At these words, a slow red mounted into the Knight's cheeks;
+but still he knelt.  "I would crave thy mercy," said he.
+"As thou hopest for Heaven's mercy, show mercy to me.
+Strip me not of my lands and so reduce a true knight to poverty."
+
+"Thy day is broken and thy lands forfeit," said the man of law,
+plucking up his spirits at the Knight's humble speech.
+
+Quoth Sir Richard, "Thou man of law, wilt thou not befriend me
+in mine hour of need?"
+
+"Nay," said the other, "I hold with this holy Prior, who hath
+paid me my fees in hard gold, so that I am bounder to him."
+
+"Wilt thou not be my friend, Sir Sheriff?" said Sir Richard.
+
+"Nay, 'fore Heaven," quoth the Sheriff of Nottingham,
+"this is no business of mine, yet I will do what I may,"
+and he nudged the Prior beneath the cloth with his knee.
+"Wilt thou not ease him of some of his debts, Sir Prior?"
+
+At this the Prior smiled grimly.  "Pay me three hundred pounds, Sir Richard,"
+said he, "and I will give thee quittance of thy debt."
+
+"Thou knowest, Sir Prior, that it is as easy for me to pay four hundred
+pounds as three hundred," said Sir Richard.  "But wilt thou not give me
+another twelvemonth to pay my debt?"
+
+"Not another day," said the Prior sternly.
+
+"And is this all thou wilt do for me?" asked the Knight.
+
+"Now, out upon thee, false knight!" cried the Prior, bursting forth in anger.
+"Either pay thy debt as I have said, or release thy land and get thee gone
+from out my hall."
+
+Then Sir Richard arose to his feet.  "Thou false, lying priest!"
+said he in so stern a voice that the man of law shrunk affrighted,
+"I am no false knight, as thou knowest full well, but have even
+held my place in the press and the tourney.  Hast thou so little
+courtesy that thou wouldst see a true knight kneel for all this time,
+or see him come into thy hall and never offer him meat or drink?"
+
+Then quoth the man of law in a trembling voice, "This is surely an ill way
+to talk of matters appertaining to business; let us be mild in speech.
+What wilt thou pay this knight, Sir Prior, to give thee release of his land?"
+
+"I would have given him two hundred pounds," quoth the Prior,
+"but since he hath spoken so vilely to my teeth, not one groat
+over one hundred pounds will he get."
+
+"Hadst thou offered me a thousand pounds, false prior,"
+said the Knight, "thou wouldst not have got an inch of my land."
+Then turning to where his men-at-arms stood near the door, he called,
+"Come hither," and beckoned with his finger; whereupon the tallest
+of them all came forward and handed him a long leathern bag.
+Sir Richard took the bag and shot from it upon the table a glittering
+stream of golden money.  "Bear in mind, Sir Prior," said he,
+"that thou hast promised me quittance for three hundred pounds.
+Not one farthing above that shalt thou get."  So saying, he counted
+out three hundred pounds and pushed it toward the Prior.
+
+But now the Prior's hands dropped at his sides and the Prior's
+head hung upon his shoulder, for not only had he lost all hopes
+of the land, but he had forgiven the Knight one hundred pounds
+of his debt and had needlessly paid the man of law fourscore angels.
+To him he turned, and quoth he, "Give me back my money that thou hast."
+
+"Nay," cried the other shrilly, "it is but my fee that thou
+didst pay me, and thou gettest it not back again."
+And he hugged his gown about him.
+
+"Now, Sir Prior," quoth Sir Richard, "I have held my day
+and paid all the dues demanded of me; so, as there is no
+more betwixt us, I leave this vile place straightway."
+So saying, he turned upon his heel and strode away.
+
+All this time the Sheriff had been staring with wide-open eyes and mouth
+agape at the tall man-at-arms, who stood as though carved out of stone.
+At last he gasped out, "Reynold Greenleaf!"
+
+At this, the tall man-at-arms, who was no other than Little John, turned,
+grinning, to the Sheriff.  "I give thee good den, fair gossip," quoth he.
+"I would say, sweet Sheriff, that I have heard all thy pretty talk this day,
+and it shall be duly told unto Robin Hood.  So, farewell for the nonce,
+till we meet again in Sherwood Forest."  Then he, also, turned and followed
+Sir Richard down the hall, leaving the Sheriff, all pale and amazed,
+shrunk together upon his chair.
+
+A merry feast it was to which Sir Richard came, but a sorry lot he left behind
+him, and little hunger had they for the princely food spread before them.
+Only the learned doctor was happy, for he had his fee.
+
+
+Now a twelvemonth and a day passed since Prior Vincent of Emmet sat
+at feast, and once more the mellow fall of another year had come.
+But the year had brought great change, I wot, to the lands
+of Sir Richard of the Lea; for, where before shaggy wild grasses
+grew upon the meadow lands, now all stretch away in golden stubble,
+betokening that a rich and plentiful crop had been gathered therefrom.
+A year had made a great change in the castle, also, for, where were
+empty moats and the crumbling of neglect, all was now orderly
+and well kept.
+
+Bright shone the sun on battlement and tower, and in the blue air
+overhead a Hock of clattering jackdaws flew around the gilded
+weather vane and spire.  Then, in the brightness of the morning,
+the drawbridge fell across the moat with a rattle and clank
+of chains, the gate of the castle swung slowly open,
+and a goodly array of steel-clad men-at-arms, with a knight
+all clothed in chain mail, as white as frost on brier and thorn
+of a winter morning, came flashing out from the castle courtyard.
+In his hand the Knight held a great spear, from the point of which
+fluttered a blood-red pennant as broad as the palm of one's hand.
+So this troop came forth from the castle, and in the midst
+of them walked three pack horses laden with parcels of divers
+shapes and kinds.
+
+Thus rode forth good Sir Richard of the Lea to pay
+his debt to Robin Hood this bright and merry morn.
+Along the highway they wended their way, with measured
+tramp of feet and rattle and jingle of sword and harness.
+Onward they marched till they came nigh to Denby, where,
+from the top of a hill, they saw, over beyond the town,
+many gay flags and streamers floating in the bright air.
+Then Sir Richard turned to the man-at-arms nearest to him.
+"What is toward yonder at Denby today?" quoth he.
+
+"Please Your Worship," answered the man-at-arms, "a merry fair is held
+there today, and a great wrestling match, to which many folk have come,
+for a prize hath been offered of a pipe of red wine, a fair golden ring,
+and a pair of gloves, all of which go to the best wrestler."
+
+"Now, by my faith," quoth Sir Richard, who loved good manly sports
+right well, "this will be a goodly thing to see.  Methinks we have
+to stay a little while on our journey, and see this merry sport."
+So he turned his horse's head aside toward Denby and the fair,
+and thither he and his men made their way.
+
+There they found a great hubbub of merriment.  Flags and streamers
+were floating, tumblers were tumbling on the green, bagpipes were playing,
+and lads and lasses were dancing to the music.  But the crowd were
+gathered most of all around a ring where the wrestling was going forward,
+and thither Sir Richard and his men turned their steps.
+
+Now when the judges of the wrestling saw Sir Richard coming and knew
+who he was, the chief of them came down from the bench where he and
+the others sat, and went to the Knight and took him by the hand,
+beseeching him to come and sit with them and judge the sport.
+So Sir Richard got down from his horse and went with the others
+to the bench raised beside the ring.
+
+Now there had been great doings that morning, for a certain yeoman
+named Egbert, who came from Stoke over in Staffordshire, had thrown
+with ease all those that came against him; but a man of Denby,
+well known through all the countryside as William of the Scar,
+had been biding his time with the Stoke man; so, when Egbert
+had thrown everyone else, stout William leaped into the ring.
+Then a tough bout followed, and at last he threw Egbert heavily,
+whereat there was a great shouting and shaking of hands,
+for all the Denby men were proud of their wrestler.
+
+When Sir Richard came, he found stout William, puffed up
+by the shouts of his friends, walking up and down the ring,
+daring anyone to come and try a throw with him.  "Come one, come all!"
+quoth he.  "Here stand I, William of the Scar, against any man.
+If there is none in Derbyshire to come against me, come all who will,
+from Nottingham, Stafford, or York, and if I do not make them one
+and all root the ground with their noses like swine in the forests,
+call me no more brave William the wrestler."
+
+At this all laughed; but above all the laughter a loud
+voice was heard to cry out, "Sin' thou talkest so big,
+here cometh one from Nottinghamshire to try a fall
+with thee, fellow"; and straightway a tall youth with a tough
+quarterstaff in his hand came pushing his way through the crowd
+and at last leaped lightly over the rope into the ring.
+He was not as heavy as stout William, but he was taller and
+broader in the shoulders, and all his joints were well knit.
+Sir Richard looked upon him keenly, then, turning to one
+of the judges, he said, "Knowest thou who this youth is?
+Methinks I have seen him before."
+
+"Nay," said the judge, "he is a stranger to me."
+
+Meantime, without a word, the young man, laying aside his quarterstaff,
+began to take off his jerkin and body clothing until he presently stood
+with naked arms and body; and a comely sight he was when so bared to the view,
+for his muscles were cut round and smooth and sharp like swift-running water.
+
+And now each man spat upon his hands and, clapping them
+upon his knees, squatted down, watching the other keenly,
+so as to take the vantage of him in the grip.
+Then like a flash they leaped together, and a great shout
+went up, for William had gotten the better hold of the two.
+For a short time they strained and struggled and writhed,
+and then stout William gave his most cunning trip and throw,
+but the stranger met it with greater skill than his,
+and so the trip came to nought.  Then, of a sudden,
+with a twist and a wrench, the stranger loosed himself,
+and he of the scar found himself locked in a pair of arms
+that fairly made his ribs crack.  So, with heavy, hot breathing,
+they stood for a while straining, their bodies all glistening
+with sweat, and great drops of sweat trickling down their faces.
+But the stranger's hug was so close that at last stout
+William's muscles softened under his grip, and he gave a sob.
+Then the youth put forth all his strength and gave a sudden trip
+with his heel and a cast over his right hip, and down stout
+William went, with a sickening thud, and lay as though he would
+never move hand nor foot again.
+
+But now no shout went up for the stranger, but an angry murmur
+was heard among the crowd, so easily had he won the match.
+Then one of the judges, a kinsman to William of the Scar,
+rose with trembling lip and baleful look.  Quoth he,
+"If thou hath slain that man it will go ill with thee,
+let me tell thee, fellow."  But the stranger answered boldly,
+"He took his chance with me as I took mine with him.
+No law can touch me to harm me, even if I slew him, so that it
+was fairly done in the wrestling ring."
+
+"That we shall see," said the judge, scowling upon the youth,
+while once more an angry murmur ran around the crowd; for, as I
+have said, the men of Denby were proud of stout William of the Scar.
+
+Then up spoke Sir Richard gently.  "Nay," said he, "the youth is right;
+if the other dieth, he dieth in the wrestling ring, where he took his chance,
+and was cast fairly enow."
+
+But in the meantime three men had come forward and lifted
+stout William from the ground and found that he was not dead,
+though badly shaken by his heavy fall.  Then the chief
+judge rose and said, "Young man, the prize is duly thine.
+Here is the red-gold ring, and here the gloves, and yonder
+stands the pipe of wine to do with whatsoever thou dost list."
+
+At this, the youth, who had donned his clothes and taken up his staff again,
+bowed without a word, then, taking the gloves and the ring, and thrusting
+the one into his girdle and slipping the other upon his thumb, he turned and,
+leaping lightly over the ropes again, made his way through the crowd,
+and was gone.
+
+"Now, I wonder who yon youth may be," said the judge, turning to Sir Richard,
+"he seemeth like a stout Saxon from his red cheeks and fair hair.
+This William of ours is a stout man, too, and never have I seen
+him cast in the ring before, albeit he hath not yet striven
+with such great wrestlers as Thomas of Cornwall, Diccon of York,
+and young David of Doncaster.  Hath he not a firm foot in the ring,
+thinkest thou, Sir Richard?"
+
+"Ay, truly, and yet this youth threw him fairly, and with wondrous ease.
+I much wonder who he can be."  Thus said Sir Richard in a thoughtful voice.
+
+For a time the Knight stood talking to those about him,
+but at last he arose and made ready to depart, so he called
+his men about him and, tightening the girths of his saddle,
+he mounted his horse once more.
+
+Meanwhile the young stranger had made his way through the crowd,
+but, as he passed, he heard all around him such words muttered
+as "Look at the cockerel!"  "Behold how he plumeth himself!"
+"I dare swear he cast good William unfairly!"  "Yea, truly,
+saw ye not birdlime upon his hands?"  "It would be well to cut
+his cock's comb!"  To all this the stranger paid no heed,
+but strode proudly about as though he heard it not.
+So he walked slowly across the green to where the booth stood wherein
+was dancing, and standing at the door he looked in on the sport.
+As he stood thus, a stone struck his arm of a sudden with a sharp
+jar, and, turning, he saw that an angry crowd of men had followed
+him from the wrestling ring.  Then, when they saw him turn so,
+a great hooting and yelling arose from all, so that the folk
+came running out from the dancing booth to see what was to do.
+At last a tall, broad-shouldered, burly blacksmith strode forward
+from the crowd swinging a mighty blackthorn club in his hand.
+
+"Wouldst thou come here to our fair town of Denby, thou Jack in
+the Box, to overcome a good honest lad with vile, juggling tricks?"
+growled he in a deep voice like the bellow of an angry bull.
+"Take that, then!"  And of a sudden he struck a blow at the youth
+that might have felled an ox.  But the other turned the blow
+deftly aside, and gave back another so terrible that the Denby man
+went down with a groan, as though he had been smitten by lightning.
+When they saw their leader fall, the crowd gave another angry shout;
+but the stranger placed his back against the tent near which he stood,
+swinging his terrible staff, and so fell had been the blow that he struck
+the stout smith that none dared to come within the measure of his cudgel,
+so the press crowded back, like a pack of dogs from a bear at bay.
+But now some coward hand from behind threw a sharp jagged stone that
+smote the stranger on the crown, so that he staggered back, and the red
+blood gushed from the cut and ran down his face and over his jerkin.
+Then, seeing him dazed with this vile blow, the crowd rushed upon him,
+so that they overbore him and he fell beneath their feet.
+
+Now it might have gone ill with the youth, even to the losing
+of his young life, had not Sir Richard come to this fair;
+for of a sudden, shouts were heard, and steel flashed in the air,
+and blows were given with the flat of swords, while through the midst
+of the crowd Sir Richard of the Lea came spurring on his white horse.
+Then the crowd, seeing the steel-clad knight and the armed men,
+melted away like snow on the warm hearth, leaving the young man
+all bloody and dusty upon the ground.
+
+Finding himself free, the youth arose and, wiping the blood
+from his face, looked up.  Quoth he, "Sir Richard of the Lea,
+mayhap thou hast saved my life this day."
+
+"Who art thou that knowest Sir Richard of the Lea so well?"
+quoth the Knight.  "Methinks I have seen thy face before, young man."
+
+"Yea, thou hast," said the youth, "for men call me David of Doncaster."
+
+"Ha!" said Sir Richard, "I wonder that I knew thee not, David;
+but thy beard hath grown longer, and thou thyself art more
+set in manhood since this day twelvemonth.  Come hither
+into the tent, David, and wash the blood from thy face.
+And thou, Ralph, bring him straightway a clean jerkin.
+Now I am
+
+
+
+
+sorry for thee, yet I am right glad that I have had a chance to pay
+a part of my debt of kindness to thy good master Robin Hood,
+for it might have gone ill with thee had I not come, young man."
+
+So saying, the Knight led David into the tent, and there the youth washed
+the blood from his face and put on the clean jerkin.
+
+In the meantime a whisper had gone around from those that stood
+nearest that this was none other than the great David of Doncaster,
+the best wrestler in all the mid-country, who only last spring
+had cast stout Adam o' Lincoln in the ring at Selby, in Yorkshire,
+and now held the mid-country champion belt, Thus it happened that
+when young David came forth from the tent along with Sir Richard,
+the blood all washed from his face, and his soiled jerkin changed
+for a clean one, no sounds of anger were heard, but all pressed
+forward to see the young man, feeling proud that one of the great
+wrestlers of England should have entered the ring at Denby fair.
+For thus fickle is a mass of men.
+
+Then Sir Richard called aloud, "Friends, this is David of Doncaster;
+so think it no shame that your Denby man was cast by such a wrestler.
+He beareth you no ill will for what hath passed, but let it be a warning
+to you how ye treat strangers henceforth.  Had ye slain him it would
+have been an ill day for you, for Robin Hood would have harried your
+town as the kestrel harries the dovecote.  I have bought the pipe
+of wine from him, and now I give it freely to you to drink as ye list.
+But never hereafterward fall upon a man for being a stout yeoman."
+
+At this all shouted amain; but in truth they thought more of the wine
+than of the Knight's words.  Then Sir Richard, with David beside him
+and his men-at-arms around, turned about and left the fair.
+
+But in after days, when the men that saw that wrestling bout were bent
+with age, they would shake their heads when they heard of any stalwart game,
+and say, "Ay, ay; but thou shouldst have seen the great David of Doncaster
+cast stout William of the Scar at Denby fair."
+
+Robin Hood stood in the merry greenwood with Little John and most
+of his stout yeomen around him, awaiting Sir Richard's coming.
+At last a glint of steel was seen through the brown forest leaves, and forth
+from the covert into the open rode Sir Richard at the head of his men.
+He came straight forward to Robin Hood and leaping from off his horse,
+clasped the yeoman in his arms.
+
+"Why, how now," said Robin, after a time, holding Sir Richard off
+and looking at him from top to toe, "methinks thou art a gayer bird
+than when I saw thee last."
+
+"Yes, thanks to thee, Robin," said the Knight, laying his hand upon
+the yeoman's shoulder.  "But for thee I would have been wandering in
+misery in a far country by this time.  But I have kept my word, Robin,
+and have brought back the money that thou didst lend me, and which I
+have doubled four times over again, and so become rich once more.
+Along with this money I have brought a little gift to thee and thy
+brave men from my dear lady and myself."  Then, turning to his men,
+he called aloud, "Bring forth the pack horses."
+
+But Robin stopped him.  "Nay, Sir Richard," said he, "think it not bold
+of me to cross thy bidding, but we of Sherwood do no business till after
+we have eaten and drunk."  Whereupon, taking Sir Richard by the hand,
+he led him to the seat beneath the greenwood tree, while others
+of the chief men of the band came and seated themselves around.
+Then quoth Robin, "How cometh it that I saw young David of Doncaster
+with thee and thy men, Sir Knight?"
+
+Then straightway the Knight told all about his stay at Denby
+and of the happening at the fair, and how it was like to go
+hard with young David; so he told his tale, and quoth he,
+"It was this, good Robin, that kept me so late on the way,
+otherwise I would have been here an hour agone."
+
+Then, when he had done speaking, Robin stretched out his hand
+and grasped the Knight's palm.  Quoth he in a trembling voice,
+"I owe thee a debt I can never hope to repay, Sir Richard,
+for let me tell thee, I would rather lose my right hand than have
+such ill befall young David of Doncaster as seemed like to come
+upon him at Denby."
+
+So they talked until after a while one came forward to say
+that the feast was spread; whereupon all arose and went thereto.
+When at last it was done, the Knight called upon his men to bring
+the pack horses forward, which they did according to his bidding.
+Then one of the men brought the Knight a strongbox, which he opened
+and took from it a bag and counted out five hundred pounds,
+the sum he had gotten from Robin.
+
+"Sir Richard," quoth Robin, "thou wilt pleasure us all if thou wilt keep
+that money as a gift from us of Sherwood.  Is it not so, my lads?"
+
+Then all shouted "Ay" with a mighty voice.
+
+"I thank you all deeply," said the Knight earnestly, "but think it
+not ill of me if I cannot take it.  Gladly have I borrowed it from you,
+but it may not be that I can take it as a gift."
+
+Then Robin Hood said no more but gave the money to Little John to put away
+in the treasury, for he had shrewdness enough to know that nought breeds
+ill will and heart bitterness like gifts forced upon one that cannot choose
+but take them.
+
+Then Sir Richard had the packs laid upon the ground and opened,
+whereupon a great shout went up that made the forest ring again, for lo,
+there were tenscore bows of finest Spanish yew, all burnished till
+they shone again, and each bow inlaid with fanciful figures in silver,
+yet not inlaid so as to mar their strength.  Beside these were tenscore
+quivers of leather embroidered with golden thread, and in each quiver
+were a score of shafts with burnished heads that shone like silver;
+each shaft was feathered with peacock's plumes, innocked with silver.
+
+Sir Richard gave to each yeoman a bow and a quiver of arrows, but to Robin
+he gave a stout bow inlaid with the cunningest workmanship in gold,
+while each arrow in his quiver was innocked with gold.
+
+Then all shouted again for joy of the fair gift, and all swore
+among themselves that they would die if need be for Sir Richard
+and his lady.
+
+At last the time came when Sir Richard must go, whereupon Robin Hood
+called his band around him, and each man of the yeomen took
+a torch in his hand to light the way through the woodlands.
+So they came to the edge of Sherwood, and there the Knight kissed
+Robin upon the cheeks and left him and was gone.
+
+Thus Robin Hood helped a noble knight out of his dire misfortunes,
+that else would have smothered the happiness from his life.
+
+
+
+Little John Turns Barefoot Friar
+
+COLD WINTER had passed and spring had come.  No leafy thickness
+had yet clad the woodlands, but the budding leaves hung like a
+tender mist about the trees.  In the open country the meadow
+lands lay a sheeny green, the cornfields a dark velvety color,
+for they were thick and soft with the growing blades.
+The plowboy shouted in the sun, and in the purple new-turned
+furrows flocks of birds hunted for fat worms.  All the broad
+moist earth smiled in the warm light, and each little green
+hill clapped its hand for joy.
+
+On a deer's hide, stretched on the ground in the open in front of the
+greenwood tree, sat Robin Hood basking in the sun like an old dog fox.
+Leaning back with his hands clasped about his knees, he lazily watched
+Little John rolling a stout bowstring from long strands of hempen thread,
+wetting the palms of his hands ever and anon, and rolling the cord upon
+his thigh.  Near by sat Allan a Dale fitting a new string to his harp.
+
+Quoth Robin at last, "Methinks I would rather roam this forest in
+the gentle springtime than be King of all merry England.  What palace
+in the broad world is as fair as this sweet woodland just now,
+and what king in all the world hath such appetite for plover's
+eggs and lampreys as I for juicy venison and sparkling ale?
+Gaffer Swanthold speaks truly when he saith, `Better a crust
+with content than honey with a sour heart.'  "
+
+"Yea," quoth Little John, as he rubbed his new-made bowstring
+with yellow beeswax, "the life we lead is the life for me.
+Thou speakest of the springtime, but methinks even the winter
+hath its own joys.  Thou and I, good master, have had more than
+one merry day, this winter past, at the Blue Boar.  Dost thou
+not remember that night thou and Will Stutely and Friar Tuck
+and I passed at that same hostelry with the two beggars and
+the strolling friar?"
+
+"Yea," quoth merry Robin, laughing, "that was the night that
+Will Stutely must needs snatch a kiss from the stout hostess,
+and got a canakin of ale emptied over his head for his pains."
+
+"Truly, it was the same," said Little John, laughing also.
+"Methinks that was a goodly song that the strolling friar sang.
+Friar Tuck, thou hast a quick ear for a tune, dost thou
+not remember it?"
+
+"I did have the catch of it one time," said Tuck.  "Let me see,"
+and he touched his forefinger to his forehead in thought,
+humming to himself, and stopping ever and anon to fit
+what he had got to what he searched for in his mind.
+At last he found it all and clearing his throat, sang merrily:
+
+ "_In the blossoming hedge the robin cock sings,
+     For the sun it is merry and bright,
+ And he joyfully hops and he flutters his wings,
+     For his heart is all full of delight.
+          For the May bloometh fair,
+          And there's little of care,
+ And plenty to eat in the Maytime rare.
+          When the flowers all die,
+          Then off he will fly,
+          To keep himself warm
+          In some jolly old barn
+ Where the snow and the wind neither chill him nor harm.
+
+ "And such is the life of the strolling friar,
+     With aplenty to eat and to drink;
+ For the goodwife will keep him a seat by the fire,
+     And the pretty girls smile at his wink.
+          Then he lustily trolls
+          As he onward strolls,
+ A rollicking song for the saving of souls.
+          When the wind doth blow,
+          With the coming of snow,
+          There's a place by the fire
+          For the fatherly friar,
+ And a crab in the bowl for his heart's desire_."
+
+
+Thus Friar Tuck sang in a rich and mellow voice, rolling his head
+from side to side in time with the music, and when he had done,
+all clapped their hands and shouted with laughter, for the song
+fitted him well.
+
+"In very sooth," quoth Little John, "it is a goodly song, and, were I
+not a yeoman of Sherwood Forest, I had rather be a strolling friar
+than aught else in the world."
+
+"Yea, it is a goodly song," said Robin Hood, "but methought those
+two burly beggars told the merrier tales and led the merrier life.
+Dost thou not remember what that great black-bearded fellow told
+of his begging at the fair in York?"
+
+"Yea," said Little John, "but what told the friar of the harvest home
+in Kentshire?  I hold that he led a merrier life than the other two."
+
+"Truly, for the honor of the cloth," quoth Friar Tuck, "I hold
+with my good gossip, Little John."
+
+"Now," quoth Robin, "I hold to mine own mind.  But what sayst thou,
+Little John, to a merry adventure this fair day?  Take thou
+a friar's gown from our chest of strange garments, and don the same,
+and I will stop the first beggar I meet and change clothes with him.
+Then let us wander the country about, this sweet day, and see
+what befalls each of us."
+
+"That fitteth my mind," quoth Little John, "so let us forth, say I."
+
+Thereupon Little John and Friar Tuck went to the storehouse of the band,
+and there chose for the yeoman the robe of a Gray Friar.  Then they came
+forth again, and a mighty roar of laughter went up, for not only had the band
+never seen Little John in such guise before, but the robe was too short
+for him by a good palm's-breadth. But Little John's hands were folded
+in his loose sleeves, and Little John's eyes were cast upon the ground,
+and at his girdle hung a great, long string of beads.
+
+And now Little John took up his stout staff, at the end of which hung a chubby
+little leathern pottle, such as palmers carry at the tips of their staves;
+but in it was something, I wot, more like good Malmsey than cold spring water,
+such as godly pilgrims carry.  Then up rose Robin and took his stout staff
+in his hand, likewise, and slipped ten golden angels into his pouch;
+for no beggar's garb was among the stores of the band, so he was fain to run
+his chance of meeting a beggar and buying his clothes of him.
+
+So, all being made ready, the two yeomen set forth on their way,
+striding lustily along all in the misty morning.  Thus they walked
+down the forest path until they came to the highway, and then along
+the highway till it split in twain, leading on one hand to Blyth
+and on the other to Gainsborough.  Here the yeomen stopped.
+
+Quoth jolly Robin, "Take thou the road to Gainsborough, and I will take
+that to Blyth.  So, fare thee well, holy father, and mayst thou not ha'
+cause to count thy beads in earnest ere we meet again."
+
+"Good den, good beggar that is to be," quoth Little John, "and mayst thou
+have no cause to beg for mercy ere I see thee next."
+
+So each stepped sturdily upon his way until a green hill rose between them,
+and the one was hid from the sight of the other.
+
+Little John walked along, whistling, for no one was nigh upon all the road.
+In the budding hedges the little birds twittered merrily, and on either
+hand the green hills swept up to the sky, the great white clouds
+of springtime sailing slowly over their crowns in lazy flight.
+Up hill and down dale walked Little John, the fresh wind blowing in his face
+and his robes fluttering behind him, and so at last he came to a crossroad
+that led to Tuxford.  Here he met three pretty lasses, each bearing
+a basket of eggs to market.  Quoth he, "Whither away, fair maids?"
+And he stood in their path, holding his staff in front of them,
+to stop them.
+
+Then they huddled together and nudged one another, and one presently
+spake up and said, "We are going to the Tuxford market, holy friar,
+to sell our eggs."
+
+"Now out upon it!" quoth Little John, looking upon them
+with his head on one side.  "Surely, it is a pity that such
+fair lasses should be forced to carry eggs to market.
+Let me tell you, an I had the shaping of things in this world,
+ye should all three have been clothed in the finest silks,
+and ride upon milk-white horses, with pages at your side,
+and feed upon nothing but whipped cream and strawberries;
+for such a life would surely befit your looks."
+
+At this speech all three of the pretty maids looked down,
+blushing and simpering.  One said, "La!" another, "Marry, a'
+maketh sport of us!" and the third, "Listen, now, to the holy man!"
+But at the same time they looked at Little John from out the corners
+of their eyes.
+
+"Now, look you," said Little John, "I cannot see such dainty
+damsels as ye are carrying baskets along a highroad.
+Let me take them mine own self, and one of you, if ye will,
+may carry my staff for me."
+
+"Nay," said one of the lasses, "but thou canst not carry three baskets
+all at one time."
+
+"Yea, but I can," said Little John, "and that I will show you presently.
+I thank the good Saint Wilfred that he hath given me a pretty wit.
+Look ye, now.  Here I take this great basket, so; here I tie
+my rosary around the handle, thus; and here I slip the rosary
+over my head and sling the basket upon my back, in this wise."
+And Little John did according to his words, the basket hanging
+down behind him like a peddler's pack; then, giving his staff
+to one of the maids, and taking a basket upon either arm, he turned
+his face toward Tuxford Town and stepped forth merrily, a laughing
+maid on either side, and one walking ahead, carrying the staff.
+In this wise they journeyed along, and everyone they met stopped and looked
+after them, laughing, for never had anybody seen such a merry sight
+as this tall, strapping Gray Friar, with robes all too short for him,
+laden with eggs, and tramping the road with three pretty lasses.
+For this Little John cared not a whit, but when such folks gave
+jesting words to him he answered back as merrily, speech for speech.
+
+So they stepped along toward Tuxford, chatting and laughing,
+until they came nigh to the town.  Here Little John stopped
+and set down the baskets, for he did not care to go into the town
+lest he should, perchance, meet some of the Sheriff's men.
+"Alas! sweet chucks," quoth he, "here I must leave you.
+I had not thought to come this way, but I am glad that I did so.
+Now, ere we part, we must drink sweet friendship."  So saying,
+he unslung the leathern pottle from the end of his staff, and,
+drawing the stopper therefrom, he handed it to the lass who had carried
+his staff, first wiping the mouth of the pottle upon his sleeve.
+Then each lass took a fair drink of what was within, and when it
+had passed all around, Little John finished what was left, so that
+not another drop could be squeezed from it.  Then, kissing each
+lass sweetly, he wished them all good den, and left them.
+But the maids stood looking after him as he walked away whistling.
+"What a pity," quoth one, "that such a stout, lusty lad should
+be in holy orders."
+
+"Marry," quoth Little John to himself, as he strode along,
+"yon was no such ill happening; Saint Dunstan send me more
+of the like."
+
+After he had trudged along for a time he began to wax thirsty
+again in the warmth of the day.  He shook his leathern pottle
+beside his ear, but not a sound came therefrom.  Then he placed it
+to his lips and tilted it high aloft, but not a drop was there.
+"Little John!  Little John!" said he sadly to himself,
+shaking his head the while, "woman will be thy ruin yet,
+if thou dost not take better care of thyself."
+
+But at last he reached the crest of a certain hill, and saw below
+a sweet little thatched inn lying snugly in the dale beneath him,
+toward which the road dipped sharply.  At the sight of this, a voice
+within him cried aloud, "I give thee joy, good friend, for yonder is
+thy heart's delight, to wit, a sweet rest and a cup of brown beer."
+So he quickened his pace down the hill and so came to the little inn,
+from which hung a sign with a stag's head painted upon it.
+In front of the door a clucking hen was scratching in the dust
+with a brood of chickens about her heels, the sparrows were
+chattering of household affairs under the eaves, and all was so
+sweet and peaceful that Little John's heart laughed within him.
+Beside the door stood two stout cobs with broad soft-padded saddles,
+well fitted for easy traveling, and speaking of rich guests in the parlor.
+In front of the door three merry fellows, a tinker, a peddler,
+and a beggar, were seated on a bench in the sun quaffing stout ale.
+
+"I give you good den, sweet friends," quoth Little John,
+striding up to where they sat.
+
+"Give thee good den, holy father," quoth the merry Beggar with a grin.
+"But look thee, thy gown is too short.  Thou hadst best cut a piece
+off the top and tack it to the bottom, so that it may be long enough.
+But come, sit beside us here and take a taste of ale, if thy vows
+forbid thee not."
+
+"Nay," quoth Little John, also grinning, "the blessed Saint Dunstan
+hath given me a free dispensation for all indulgence in that line."
+And he thrust his hand into his pouch for money to pay his score.
+
+"Truly," quoth the Tinker, "without thy looks belie thee, holy friar,
+the good Saint Dunstan was wise, for without such dispensation
+his votary is like to ha' many a penance to make.  Nay, take thy
+hand from out thy pouch, brother, for thou shalt not pay this shot.
+Ho, landlord, a pot of ale!"
+
+So the ale was brought and given to Little John.  Then, blowing the
+froth a little way to make room for his lips, he tilted the bottom
+of the pot higher and higher, till it pointed to the sky, and he had
+to shut his eyes to keep the dazzle of the sunshine out of them.
+Then he took the pot away, for there was nothing in it, and heaved
+a full deep sigh, looking at the others with moist eyes and shaking
+his head solemnly.
+
+"Ho, landlord!" cried the Peddler, "bring this good fellow another pot of ale,
+for truly it is a credit to us all to have one among us who can empty
+a canakin so lustily."
+
+So they talked among themselves merrily, until after a while quoth
+Little John, "Who rideth those two nags yonder?"
+
+"Two holy men like thee, brother," quoth the Beggar.  "They are now having
+a goodly feast within, for I smelled the steam of a boiled pullet just now.
+The landlady sayeth they come from Fountain Abbey, in Yorkshire, and go
+to Lincoln on matters of business."
+
+"They are a merry couple," said the Tinker, "for one is as lean as an old
+wife's spindle, and the other as fat as a suet pudding."
+
+"Talking of fatness," said the Peddler, "thou thyself lookest
+none too ill-fed, holy friar."
+
+"Nay, truly," said Little John, "thou seest in me what the holy Saint Dunstan
+can do for them that serve him upon a handful of parched peas and a trickle
+of cold water."
+
+At this a great shout of laughter went up.  "Truly, it is a
+wondrous thing," quoth the Beggar, "I would have made my vow, to see
+the masterly manner in which thou didst tuck away yon pot of ale,
+that thou hadst not tasted clear water for a brace of months.
+Has not this same holy Saint Dunstan taught thee a goodly
+song or two?"
+
+"Why, as for that," quoth Little John, grinning, "mayhap he hath lent
+me aid to learn a ditty or so."
+
+"Then, prythee, let us hear how he hath taught thee,"
+quoth the Tinker.
+
+At this Little John cleared his throat and, after a word or two
+about a certain hoarseness that troubled him, sang thus:
+
+ "_Ah, pretty, pretty maid, whither dost thou go?
+ I prythee, prythee, wait for thy lover also,
+     And we'll gather the rose
+     As it sweetly blows,
+ For the merry, merry winds are blo-o-o-wing_."
+
+
+Now it seemed as though Little John's songs were never to get sung,
+for he had got no farther than this when the door of the inn opened
+and out came the two brothers of Fountain Abbey, the landlord
+following them, and, as the saying is, washing his hands with humble soap.
+But when the brothers of Fountain Abbey saw who it was that sang,
+and how he was clad in the robes of a Gray Friar, they stopped suddenly,
+the fat little Brother drawing his heavy eyebrows together in a mighty frown,
+and the thin Brother twisting up his face as though he had sour beer
+in his mouth.  Then, as Little John gathered his breath for a new verse,
+"How, now," roared forth the fat Brother, his voice coming from him
+like loud thunder from a little cloud, "thou naughty fellow, is this
+a fit place for one in thy garb to tipple and sing profane songs?"
+
+"Nay," quoth Little John, "sin' I cannot tipple and sing,
+like Your Worship's reverence, in such a goodly place as
+Fountain Abbey, I must e'en tipple and sing where I can."
+
+"Now, out upon thee," cried the tall lean Brother in a harsh voice,
+"now, out upon thee, that thou shouldst so disgrace thy cloth by this
+talk and bearing."
+
+"Marry, come up!" quoth Little John.  "Disgrace, sayest thou?
+Methinks it is more disgrace for one of our garb to wring
+hard-earned farthings out of the gripe of poor lean peasants.
+It is not so, brother?"
+
+At this the Tinker and the Peddler and the Beggar nudged one another,
+and all grinned, and the friars scowled blackly at Little John; but they
+could think of nothing further to say, so they turned to their horses.
+Then Little John arose of a sudden from the bench where he sat,
+and ran to where the brothers of Fountain Abbey were mounting.
+Quoth he, "Let me hold your horses' bridles for you.  Truly, your words
+have smitten my sinful heart, so that I will abide no longer in this
+den of evil, but will go forward with you.  No vile temptation, I wot,
+will fall upon me in such holy company."
+
+"Nay, fellow," said the lean Brother harshly, for he saw that
+Little John made sport of them, "we want none of thy company,
+so get thee gone."
+
+"Alas," quoth Little John, "I am truly sorry that ye like me
+not nor my company, but as for leaving you, it may not be,
+for my heart is so moved, that, willy-nilly, I must go with you
+for the sake of your holy company."
+
+Now, at this talk all the good fellows on the bench grinned till their
+teeth glistened, and even the landlord could not forbear to smile.
+As for the friars, they looked at one another with a puzzled look,
+and knew not what to do in the matter.  They were so proud that it made
+them feel sick with shame to think of riding along the highroad with a
+strolling friar, in robes all too short for him, running beside them,
+but yet they could not make Little John stay against his will, for they knew
+he could crack the bones of both of them in a twinkling were he so minded.
+Then up spake the fat Brother more mildly than he had done before.
+"Nay, good brother," said he, "we will ride fast, and thou wilt tire
+to death at the pace."
+
+"Truly, I am grateful to thee for the thought of me," quoth Little John,
+"but have no fear, brother; my limbs are stout, and I could run like a hare
+from here to Gainsborough."
+
+At these words a sound of laughing came from the bench, whereat the lean
+Brother's wrath boiled over, like water into the fire, with great fuss
+and noise.  "Now, out upon thee, thou naughty fellow!" he cried.
+"Art thou not ashamed to bring disgrace so upon our cloth?
+Bide thee here, thou sot, with these porkers.  Thou art no fit
+company for us."
+
+"La, ye there now!" quoth Little John.  "Thou hearest, landlord;
+thou art not fit company for these holy men; go back to thine alehouse.
+Nay, if these most holy brothers of mine do but give me the word,
+I'll beat thy head with this stout staff till it is as soft
+as whipped eggs."
+
+At these words a great shout of laughter went up from those on the bench,
+and the landlord's face grew red as a cherry from smothering his laugh
+in his stomach; but he kept his merriment down, for he wished not to bring
+the ill-will of the brothers of Fountain Abbey upon him by unseemly mirth.
+So the two brethren, as they could do nought else, having mounted their nags,
+turned their noses toward Lincoln and rode away.
+
+"I cannot stay longer, sweet friends," quoth Little John, as he pushed in
+betwixt the two cobs, "therefore I wish you good den.  Off we go, we three."
+So saying, he swung his stout staff over his shoulder and trudged off,
+measuring his pace with that of the two nags.
+
+The two brothers glowered at Little John when he so pushed
+himself betwixt them, then they drew as far away from him as
+they could, so that the yeoman walked in the middle of the road,
+while they rode on the footpath on either side of the way.
+As they so went away, the Tinker, the Peddler, and the Beggar
+ran skipping out into the middle of the highway, each with a pot
+in his hand, and looked after them laughing.
+
+While they were in sight of those at the inn, the brothers walked their
+horses soberly, not caring to make ill matters worse by seeming to run away
+from Little John, for they could not but think how it would sound in folks'
+ears when they heard how the brethren of Fountain Abbey scampered away
+from a strolling friar, like the Ugly One, when the blessed Saint Dunstan
+loosed his nose from the red-hot tongs where he had held it fast;
+but when they had crossed the crest of the hill and the inn was lost
+to sight, quoth the fat Brother to the thin Brother, "Brother Ambrose,
+had we not better mend our pace?"
+
+"Why truly, gossip," spoke up Little John, "methinks it would be
+well to boil our pot a little faster, for the day is passing on.
+So it will not jolt thy fat too much, onward, say I."
+
+At this the two friars said nothing, but they glared again
+on Little John with baleful looks; then, without another word,
+they clucked to their horses, and both broke into a canter.
+So they galloped for a mile and more, and Little John ran
+betwixt them as lightly as a stag and never turned a hair
+with the running.  At last the fat Brother drew his horse's
+rein with a groan, for he could stand the shaking no longer.
+"Alas," said Little John, with not so much as a catch in his breath,
+"I did sadly fear that the roughness of this pace would shake
+thy poor old fat paunch."
+
+To this the fat Friar said never a word, but he stared straight before him,
+and he gnawed his nether lip.  And now they traveled forward more quietly,
+Little John in the middle of the road whistling merrily to himself,
+and the two friars in the footpath on either side saying never a word.
+
+Then presently they met three merry minstrels, all clad in red,
+who stared amain to see a Gray Friar with such short robes
+walking in the middle of the road, and two brothers.
+with heads bowed with shame, riding upon richly caparisoned cobs
+on the footpaths.  When they had come near to the minstrels,
+Little John waved his staff like an usher clearing the way.
+"Make way!" he cried in a loud voice.  "Make way! make way!
+For here we go, we three!"  Then how the minstrels stared,
+and how they laughed!  But the fat Friar shook as with an ague,
+and the lean Friar bowed his head over his horse's neck.
+
+Then next they met two noble knights in rich array, with hawk on wrist,
+and likewise two fair ladies clad in silks and velvets, all a-riding
+on noble steeds.  These all made room, staring, as Little John
+and the two friars came along the road.  To them Little John
+bowed humbly.  "Give you greetings, lords and ladies," said he.
+"But here we go, we three."
+
+Then all laughed, and one of the fair ladies cried out,
+"What three meanest thou, merry friend?"
+
+Little John looked over his shoulder, for they had now passed each other,
+and he called back, "Big Jack, lean Jack and fat Jack-pudding."
+
+At this the fat Friar gave a groan and seemed as if he were like
+to fall from his saddle for shame; the other brother said nothing,
+but he looked before him with a grim and stony look.
+
+Just ahead of them the road took a sudden turn around a high hedge,
+and some twoscore paces beyond the bend another road crossed the one
+they were riding upon.  When they had come to the crossroad and were
+well away from those they had left, the lean Friar drew rein suddenly.
+"Look ye, fellow," quoth he in a voice quivering with rage, "we have had
+enough of thy vile company, and care no longer to be made sport of.
+Go thy way, and let us go ours in peace."
+
+"La there, now!" quoth Little John.  "Methought we were such a
+merry company, and here thou dost blaze up like fat in the pan.
+But truly, I ha' had enow of you today, though I can ill spare
+your company.  I know ye will miss me, but gin ye want me again,
+whisper to Goodman Wind, and he will bring news thereof to me.
+But ye see I am a poor man and ye are rich.  I pray you give me
+a penny or two to buy me bread and cheese at the next inn."
+
+"We have no money, fellow," said the lean Friar harshly.
+"Come, Brother Thomas, let us forward."
+
+But Little John caught the horses by the bridle reins, one in either hand.
+"Ha' ye in truth no money about you whatsoever?" said he.
+"Now, I pray you, brothers, for charity's sake, give me somewhat
+to buy a crust of bread, e'en though it be only a penny."
+
+"I tell thee, fellow, we have no money," thundered the fat little
+Friar with the great voice.
+
+"Ha' ye, in holy truth, no money?" asked Little John.
+
+"Not a farthing," said the lean Friar sourly.
+
+"Not a groat," said the fat Friar loudly.
+
+"Nay," quoth Little John, "this must not be.  Far be it from me
+to see such holy men as ye are depart from me with no money.
+Get both of you down straightway from off your horses,
+and we will kneel here in the middle of the crossroads and pray
+the blessed Saint Dunstan to send us some money to carry us
+on our journey."
+
+"What sayest thou, thou limb of evil!" cried the lean Friar,
+fairly gnashing his teeth with rage.  "Doss thou bid me, the high
+cellarer of Fountain Abbey, to get down from my horse and kneel
+in the dirty road to pray to some beggarly Saxon saint?"
+
+"Now," quoth Little John, "I ha' a great part of a mind to crack thy
+head for thee for speaking thus of the good Saint Dunstan!  But get
+down straightway, for my patience will not last much longer,
+and I may forget that ye are both in holy orders."  So saying,
+he twirled his stout staff till it whistled again.
+
+At this speech both friars grew as pale as dough.
+Down slipped the fat Brother from off his horse on one side,
+and down slipped the lean Brother on the other.
+
+"Now, brothers, down on your knees and pray," said Little John;
+thereupon, putting his heavy hands upon the shoulder of each,
+he forced them to their knees, he kneeling also.  Then Little John began
+to beseech Saint Dunstan for money, which he did in a great loud voice.
+After he had so besought the Saint for a time, he bade the friars
+feel in their pouches and see if the Saint had sent them anything;
+so each put his hand slowly in the pouch that hung beside him,
+but brought nothing thence.
+
+"Ha!" quoth Little John, "have your prayers so little virtue?
+Then let us at it again."  Then straightway he began calling
+on Saint Dunstan again, somewhat in this wise:  "O gracious
+Saint Dunstan!  Send some money straightway to these poor folk,
+lest the fat one waste away and grow as lean as the lean one,
+and the lean one waste away to nothing at all, ere they get to
+Lincoln Town; but send them only ten shillings apiece, lest they
+grow puffed up with pride, Any more than that that thou sendest,
+send to me.
+
+"Now," quoth he, rising, "let us see what each man hath."
+Then he thrust his hand into his pouch and drew thence four golden angels.
+"What have ye, brothers?" said he.
+
+Then once again each friar slowly thrust his hand into his pouch,
+and once again brought it out with nothing in it.
+
+"Have ye nothing?" quoth Little John.  "Nay, I warrant there is somewhat
+that hath crept into the seams of your pouches, and so ye ha' missed it.
+Let me look."
+
+So he went first to the lean Friar, and, thrusting his hand into the pouch,
+he drew forth a leathern bag and counted therefrom one hundred and ten pounds
+of golden money.  "I thought," quoth Little John, "that thou hadst missed,
+in some odd corner of thy pouch, the money that the blessed Saint had
+sent thee.  And now let me see whether thou hast not some, also, brother."
+Thereupon he thrust his hand into the pouch of the fat Friar and drew thence
+a bag like the other and counted out from it threescore and ten pounds.
+"Look ye now," quoth he, "I knew the good Saint had sent thee some pittance
+that thou, also, hadst missed."
+
+Then, giving them one pound between them, he slipped the rest
+of the money into his own pouch, saying, "Ye pledged me
+your holy word that ye had no money.  Being holy men, I trust
+that ye would not belie your word so pledged, therefore I know
+the good Saint Dunstan hath sent this in answer to my prayers.
+But as I only prayed for ten shillings to be sent to each of you,
+all over and above that belongeth by rights to me, and so I take it.
+I give you good den, brothers, and may ye have a pleasant
+journey henceforth."  So saying, he turned and left them,
+striding away.  The friars looked at one another with a woeful look,
+and slowly and sadly they mounted their horses again and rode
+away with never a word.
+
+But Little John turned his footsteps back again to Sherwood Forest,
+and merrily he whistled as he strode along.
+
+And now we will see what befell Robin Hood in his venture as beggar.
+
+
+
+Robin Hood Turns Beggar
+
+AFTER JOLLY ROBIN had left Little John at the forking of the roads,
+he walked merrily onward in the mellow sunshine that shone about him.
+Ever and anon he would skip and leap or sing a snatch of song,
+for pure joyousness of the day; for, because of the sweetness
+of the springtide, his heart was as lusty within him as that
+of a colt newly turned out to grass.  Sometimes he would walk
+a long distance, gazing aloft at the great white swelling clouds
+that moved slowly across the deep blue sky; anon he would stop
+and drink in the fullness of life of all things, for the hedgerows
+were budding tenderly and the grass of the meadows was waxing long
+and green; again he would stand still and listen to the pretty
+song of the little birds in the thickets or hearken to the clear
+crow of the cock daring the sky to rain, whereat he would laugh,
+for it took but little to tickle Robin's heart into merriment.
+So he trudged manfully along, ever willing to stop for this
+reason or for that, and ever ready to chat with such merry
+lasses as he met now and then.  So the morning slipped along,
+but yet he met no beggar with whom he could change clothes.
+Quoth he, "If I do not change my luck in haste, I am like to
+have an empty day of it, for it is well nigh half gone already,
+and, although I have had a merry walk through the countryside,
+I know nought of a beggar's life."
+
+Then, after a while, he began to grow hungry, whereupon his mind turned
+from thoughts of springtime and flowers and birds and dwelled upon
+boiled capons, Malmsey, white bread, and the like, with great tenderness.
+Quoth he to himself, "I would I had Willie Wynkin's wishing coat;
+I know right well what I should wish for, and this it should be."
+Here he marked upon the fingers of his left hand with the
+forefinger of his right hand those things which he wished for.
+"Firstly, I would have a sweet brown pie of tender larks; mark ye,
+not dry cooked, but with a good sop of gravy to moisten it withal.
+Next, I would have a pretty pullet, fairly boiled, with tender pigeons'
+eggs, cunningly sliced, garnishing the platter around.
+With these I would have a long, slim loaf of wheaten bread that hath
+been baked upon the hearth; it should be warm from the fire,
+with glossy brown crust, the color of the hair of mine own Maid Marian,
+and this same crust should be as crisp and brittle as the thin white
+ice that lies across the furrows in the early winter's morning.
+These will do for the more solid things; but with these I
+must have three potties, fat and round, one full of Malmsey,
+one of Canary, and one brimming full of mine own dear lusty sack."
+Thus spoke Robin to himself, his mouth growing moist at the corners
+with the thoughts of the good things he had raised in his own mind.
+
+So, talking to himself, he came to where the dusty road turned sharply
+around the hedge, all tender with the green of the coming leaf,
+and there he saw before him a stout fellow sitting upon a stile,
+swinging his legs in idleness.  All about this lusty rogue dangled
+divers pouches and bags of different sizes and kinds, a dozen or more,
+with great, wide, gaping mouths, like a brood of hungry daws.
+His coat was gathered in at his waist, and was patched with as many
+colors as there are stripes upon a Maypole in the springtide.
+On his head he wore a great tall leathern cap, and across his knees
+rested a stout quarterstaff of blackthorn, full as long and heavy
+as Robin's. As jolly a beggar was he as ever trod the lanes
+and byways of Nottinghamshire, for his eyes were as gray as slate,
+and snapped and twinkled and danced with merriment, and his black
+hair curled close all over his head in little rings of kinkiness.
+
+"Halloa, good fellow," quoth Robin, when he had come nigh to the other,
+"what art thou doing here this merry day, when the flowers are peeping
+and the buds are swelling?"
+
+Then the other winked one eye and straightway trolled forth
+in a merry voice:
+
+     "_I sit upon the stile,
+     And I sing a little while
+ As I wait for my own true dear, O,
+     For the sun is shining bright,
+     And the leaves are dancing light,
+ And the little fowl sings she is near, O_.
+
+
+"And so it is with me, bully boy, saving that my doxy cometh not."
+
+"Now that is a right sweet song," quoth Robin, "and, were I in
+the right mind to listen to thee, I could bear well to hear more;
+but I have two things of seriousness to ask of thee;
+so listen, I prythee."
+
+At this the jolly Beggar cocked his head on one side, like a rogue
+of a magpie.  Quoth he, "I am an ill jug to pour heavy things into,
+good friend, and, if I mistake not, thou hast few serious words
+to spare at any time."
+
+"Nay," quoth jolly Robin, "what I would say first is the most serious
+of all thoughts to me, to wit, `Where shall I get somewhat to eat
+and drink?' "
+
+"Sayst thou so?" quoth the Beggar.  "Marry, I make no such serious
+thoughts upon the matter.  I eat when I can get it, and munch
+my crust when I can get no crumb; likewise, when there is no ale
+to be had I wash the dust from out my throat with a trickle
+of cold water.  I was sitting here, as thou camest upon me,
+bethinking myself whether I should break my fast or no.
+I do love to let my hunger grow mightily keen ere I eat,
+for then a dry crust is as good to me as a venison pasty
+with suet and raisins is to stout King Harry.  I have a sharp
+hunger upon me now, but methinks in a short while it will ripen
+to a right mellow appetite."
+
+"Now, in good sooth," quoth merry Robin, laughing, "thou hast a quaint tongue
+betwixt thy teeth.  But hast thou truly nought but a dry crust about thee?
+Methinks thy bags and pouches are fat and lusty for such thin fare."
+
+"Why, mayhap there is some other cold fare therein," said the Beggar slyly.
+
+"And hast thou nought to drink but cold water?" said Robin.
+
+"Never so much as a drop," quoth the Beggar.  "Over beyond yon clump
+of trees is as sweet a little inn as ever thou hast lifted eyelid upon;
+but I go not thither, for they have a nasty way with me.
+Once, when the good Prior of Emmet was dining there, the landlady set
+a dear little tart of stewed crabs and barley sugar upon the window
+sill to cool, and, seeing it there, and fearing it might be lost,
+I took it with me till that I could find the owner thereof.
+Ever since then they have acted very ill toward me; yet truth
+bids me say that they have the best ale there that ever rolled
+over my tongue."
+
+At this Robin laughed aloud.  "Marry," quoth he, "they did ill toward thee
+for thy kindness.  But tell me truly, what hast thou in thy pouches?"
+
+"Why," quoth the Beggar, peeping into the mouths of his bags, "I find here
+a goodly piece of pigeon pie, wrapped in a cabbage leaf to hold the gravy.
+Here I behold a dainty streaked piece of brawn, and here a fair lump
+of white bread.  Here I find four oaten cakes and a cold knuckle
+of ham.  Ha!  In sooth, 'tis strange; but here I behold six eggs
+that must have come by accident from some poultry yard hereabouts.
+They are raw, but roasted upon the coals and spread with a piece
+of butter that I see--"
+
+"Peace, good friend!" cried Robin, holding up his hand.  "Thou makest
+my poor stomach quake with joy for what thou tellest me so sweetly.
+If thou wilt give me to eat, I will straightway hie me to that little
+inn thou didst tell of but now, and will bring a skin of ale for thy
+drinking and mine."
+
+"Friend, thou hast said enough," said the Beggar, getting down from
+the stile.  "I will feast thee with the best that I have and bless
+Saint Cedric for thy company.  But, sweet chuck, I prythee bring
+three quarts of ale at least, one for thy drinking and two for mine,
+for my thirst is such that methinks I can drink ale as the sands
+of the River Dee drink salt water."
+
+So Robin straightway left the Beggar, who, upon his part,
+went to a budding lime bush back of the hedge, and there spread
+his feast upon the grass and roasted his eggs upon a little
+fagot fire, with a deftness gained by long labor in that line.
+After a while back came Robin bearing a goodly skin of ale upon
+his shoulder, which he laid upon the grass.  Then, looking upon
+the feast spread upon the ground--and a fair sight it was to look upon--
+he slowly rubbed his hand over his stomach, for to his hungry eyes
+it seemed the fairest sight that he had beheld in all his life.
+
+"Friend," said the Beggar, "let me feel the weight of that skin.
+
+"Yea, truly," quoth Robin, "help thyself, sweet chuck, and meantime
+let me see whether thy pigeon pie is fresh or no."
+
+So the one seized upon the ale and the other upon the pigeon pie,
+and nothing was heard for a while but the munching of food
+and the gurgle of ale as it left the skin.
+
+At last, after a long time had passed thus, Robin pushed
+the food from him and heaved a great sigh of deep content,
+for he felt as though he had been made all over anew.
+
+"And now, good friend," quoth he, leaning upon one elbow,
+"I would have at thee about that other matter of seriousness
+of which I spoke not long since."
+
+"How!" said the Beggar reproachfully, "thou wouldst surely not talk
+of things appertaining to serious affairs upon such ale as this!"
+
+"Nay," quoth Robin, laughing.  "I would not check thy thirst,
+sweet friend; drink while I talk to thee.  Thus it is:
+I would have thee know that I have taken a liking to thy craft
+and would fain have a taste of a beggar's life mine own self."
+
+Said the Beggar, "I marvel not that thou hast taken a liking
+to my manner of life, good fellow, but `to like' and `to do'
+are two matters of different sorts.  I tell thee, friend, one must
+serve a long apprenticeship ere one can learn to be even so much
+as a clapper-dudgeon, much less a crank or an Abraham-man.[3] I
+tell thee, lad, thou art too old to enter upon that which it
+may take thee years to catch the hang of."
+
+
+[3] Classes of traveling mendicants that infested England
+as late as the middle of the seventeenth century.
+VIDE Dakkar's ENGLISH VILLAINIES, etc.
+
+
+"Mayhap that may be so," quoth Robin, "for I bring to mind
+that Gaffer Swanthold sayeth Jack Shoemaker maketh ill bread;
+Tom Baker maketh ill shoon.  Nevertheless, I have a mind to taste
+a beggar's life, and need but the clothing to be as good as any."
+
+"I tell thee, fellow," said the Beggar, "if thou wert clad as sweetly as good
+Saint Wynten, the patron of our craft, thou wouldst never make a beggar.
+Marry, the first jolly traveler that thou wouldst meet would beat thee to a
+pudding for thrusting thy nose into a craft that belongeth not to thee."
+
+"Nevertheless," quoth Robin, "I would have a try at it; and methinks I shall
+change clothes with thee, for thy garb seemeth to be pretty, not to say gay.
+So not only will I change clothes, but I will give thee two golden angels
+to boot.  I have brought my stout staff with me, thinking that I might
+have to rap some one of the brethren of thy cloth over the head by way
+of argument in this matter, but I love thee so much for the feast thou
+hast given me that I would not lift even my little finger against thee,
+so thou needst not have a crumb of fear."
+
+To this the Beggar listened with his knuckles resting against his hips,
+and when Robin had ended he cocked his head on one side and thrust
+his tongue into his cheek.
+
+"Marry, come up," quoth he at last.  "Lift thy finger
+against me, forsooth!  Art thou out of thy wits, man?
+My name is Riccon Hazel, and I come from Holywell, in Flintshire,
+over by the River Dee.  I tell thee, knave, I have cracked
+the head of many a better man than thou art, and even now I would
+scald thy crown for thee but for the ale thou hast given me.
+Now thou shalt not have so much as one tag-rag of my coat,
+even could it save thee from hanging."
+
+"Now, fellow," said Robin, "it would ill suit me to spoil thy pretty head
+for thee, but I tell thee plainly, that but for this feast I would do
+that to thee would stop thy traveling the country for many a day to come.
+Keep thy lips shut, lad, or thy luck will tumble out of thy mouth
+with thy speech!"
+
+"Now out, and alas for thee, man, for thou hast bred thyself ill
+this day!" cried the Beggar, rising and taking up his staff.
+"Take up thy club and defend thyself, fellow, for I will
+not only beat thee but I will take from thee thy money
+and leave thee not so much as a clipped groat to buy thyself
+a lump of goose grease to rub thy cracked crown withal.
+So defend thyself, I say."
+
+Then up leaped merry Robin and snatched up his staff also.
+"Take my money, if thou canst," quoth he.  "I promise
+freely to give thee every farthing if thou dost touch me."
+And he twirled his staff in his fingers till it whistled again.
+
+Then the Beggar swung his staff also, and struck a mighty blow
+at Robin, which the yeoman turned.  Three blows the Beggar struck,
+yet never one touched so much as a hair of Robin's head.
+Then stout Robin saw his chance, and, ere you could count three,
+Riccon's staff was over the hedge, and Riccon himself lay
+upon the green grass with no more motion than you could find
+in an empty pudding bag.
+
+"How now!" quoth merry Robin, laughing.  "Wilt thou have my hide or my money,
+sweet chuck?"  But to this the other answered never a word.  Then Robin,
+seeing his plight, and that he was stunned with the blow, ran, still laughing,
+and brought the skin of ale and poured some of it on the Beggar's head
+and some down his throat, so that presently he opened his eyes and looked
+around as though wondering why he lay upon his back.
+
+Then Robin, seeing that he had somewhat gathered the wits that
+had just been rapped out of his head, said, "Now, good fellow,
+wilt thou change clothes with me, or shall I have to tap
+thee again?  Here are two golden angels if thou wilt give
+me freely all thy rags and bags and thy cap and things.
+If thou givest them not freely, I much fear me I shall have to--"
+and he looked up and down his staff.
+
+Then Riccon sat up and rubbed the bump on his crown.  "Now, out upon it!"
+quoth he.  "I did think to drub thee sweetly, fellow.  I know not how it is,
+but I seem, as it were, to have bought more beer than I can drink.
+If I must give up my clothes, I must, but first promise me, by thy word
+as a true yeoman, that thou wilt take nought from me but my clothes."
+
+"I promise on the word of a true yeoman," quoth Robin,
+thinking that the fellow had a few pennies that he would save.
+
+Thereupon the Beggar drew a little knife that hung at his side and,
+ripping up the lining of his coat, drew thence ten bright golden pounds,
+which he laid upon the ground beside him with a cunning wink
+at Robin.  "Now thou mayst have my clothes and welcome," said he,
+"and thou mightest have had them in exchange for thine without
+the cost of a single farthing, far less two golden angels."
+
+"Marry," quoth Robin, laughing, "thou art a sly fellow, and I tell thee truly,
+had I known thou hadst so much money by thee maybe thou mightst not have
+carried it away, for I warrant thou didst not come honestly by it."
+
+Then each stripped off his clothes and put on those of the other, and as
+lusty a beggar was Robin Hood as e'er you could find of a summer's day.
+But stout Riccon of Holywell skipped and leaped and danced for joy of the fair
+suit of Lincoln green that he had so gotten.  Quoth he, "I am a gay-feathered
+bird now.  Truly, my dear Moll Peascod would never know me in this dress.
+Thou mayst keep the cold pieces of the feast, friend, for I mean to live
+well and lustily while my money lasts and my clothes are gay."
+
+So he turned and left Robin and, crossing the stile, was gone,
+but Robin heard him singing from beyond the hedge as he strode away:
+
+     "_For Polly is smiling and Molly is glad
+     When the beggar comes in at the door,
+ And Jack and Dick call him a fine lusty lad,
+     And the hostess runs up a great score.
+
+ Then hey, Willy Waddykin,
+     Stay, Billy Waddykin,
+ And let the brown ale flow free, flow free,
+     The beggar's the man for me_."
+
+
+Robin listened till the song ended in the distance,
+then he also crossed the stile into the road,
+but turned his toes away from where the Beggar had gone.
+The road led up a gentle hill and up the hill Robin walked,
+a half score or more of bags dangling about his legs.
+Onward he strolled for a long time, but other adventure he found not.
+The road was bare of all else but himself, as he went kicking
+up little clouds of dust at each footstep; for it was noontide,
+the most peaceful time of all the day, next to twilight.
+All the earth was silent in the restfulness of eating time;
+the plowhorses stood in the furrow munching, with great bags
+over their noses holding sweet food, the plowman sat under
+the hedge and the plowboy also, and they, too, were munching,
+each one holding a great piece of bread in one fist and a great
+piece of cheese in the other.
+
+So Robin, with all the empty road to himself, strode along whistling merrily,
+his bags and pouches bobbing and dangling at his thighs.  At last he came
+to where a little grass-grown path left the road and, passing through a stile
+and down a hill, led into a little dell and on across a rill in the valley
+and up the hill on the other side, till it reached a windmill that stood
+on the cap of the rise where the wind bent the trees in swaying motion.
+Robin looked at the spot and liked it, and, for no reason but that his fancy
+led him, he took the little path and walked down the grassy sunny slope
+of the open meadow, and so came to the little dingle and, ere he knew it,
+upon four lusty fellows that sat with legs outstretched around a goodly
+feast spread upon the ground.
+
+Four merry beggars were they, and each had slung about
+his neck a little board that rested upon his breast.
+One board had written upon it, "I am blind," another, "I am deaf,"
+another, "I am dumb," and the fourth, "Pity the lame one."
+But although all these troubles written upon the boards seemed
+so grievous, the four stout fellows sat around feasting
+as merrily as though Cain's wife had never opened the pottle
+that held misfortunes and let them forth like a cloud of flies
+to pester us.
+
+The deaf man was the first to hear Robin, for he said, "Hark, brothers, I hear
+someone coming."  And the blind man was the first to see him, for he said,
+"He is an honest man, brothers, and one of like craft to ourselves."
+Then the dumb man called to him in a great voice and said, "Welcome, brother;
+come and sit while there is still some of the feast left and a little
+Malmsey in the pottle."  At this, the lame man, who had taken off his
+wooden leg and unstrapped his own leg, and was sitting with it stretched
+out upon the grass so as to rest it, made room for Robin among them.
+"We are glad to see thee, brother," said he, holding out the flask of Malmsey.
+
+"Marry," quoth Robin, laughing, and weighing the flask in his hands
+ere he drank, "methinks it is no more than seemly of you all to be
+glad to see me, seeing that I bring sight to the blind, speech to
+the dumb, hearing to the deaf, and such a lusty leg to a lame man.
+I drink to your happiness, brothers, as I may not drink to your health,
+seeing ye are already hale, wind and limb."
+
+At this all grinned, and the Blind beggar, who was the chief man among them,
+and was the broadest shouldered and most lusty rascal of all, smote Robin
+upon the shoulder, swearing he was a right merry wag.
+
+"Whence comest thou, lad?" asked the Dumb man.
+
+"Why," quoth Robin, "I came this morning from sleeping overnight in Sherwood."
+
+"Is it even so?" said the Deaf man.  "I would not for all the money we four
+are carrying to Lincoln Town sleep one night in Sherwood.  If Robin Hood
+caught one of our trade in his woodlands he would, methinks, clip his ears."
+
+"Methinks he would, too," quoth Robin, laughing.  "But what money
+is this that ye speak of?"
+
+Then up spake the Lame man.  "Our king, Peter of York," said he,
+"hath sent us to Lincoln with those moneys that--"
+
+"Stay, brother Hodge," quoth the Blind man, breaking into the talk,
+"I would not doubt our brother here, but bear in mind we know him not.
+What art thou, brother?  Upright-man, Jurkman, Clapper-dudgeon, Dommerer,
+or Abraham-man?"
+
+At these words Robin looked from one man to the other with mouth agape.
+"Truly," quoth he, "I trust I am an upright man, at least, I strive to be;
+but I know not what thou meanest by such jargon, brother.  It were much
+more seemly, methinks, if yon Dumb man, who hath a sweet voice, would give
+us a song."
+
+At these words a silence fell on all, and after a while the Blind
+man spoke again.  Quoth he, "Thou dost surely jest when thou
+sayest that thou dost not understand such words.  Answer me this:
+Hast thou ever fibbed a chouse quarrons in the Rome pad for the loure
+in his bung?"[4]
+
+
+[4] I.E., in old beggar's cant, "beaten a man or gallant upon the highway
+for the money in his purse."  Dakkar's ENGLISH VILLAINIES.
+
+
+"Now out upon it," quoth Robin Hood testily, "an ye make sport of me
+by pattering such gibberish, it will be ill for you all, I tell you.
+I have the best part of a mind to crack the heads of all four of you,
+and would do so, too, but for the sweet Malmsey ye have given me.
+Brother, pass the pottle lest it grow cold."
+
+But all the four beggars leaped to their feet when Robin had
+done speaking, and the Blind man snatched up a heavy knotted cudgel
+that lay beside him on the grass, as did the others likewise.
+Then Robin, seeing that things were like to go ill with him,
+albeit he knew not what all the coil was about, leaped to his
+feet also and, catching up his trusty staff, clapped his back
+against the tree and stood upon his guard against them.
+"How, now!" cried he, twirling his staff betwixt his fingers,
+"would you four stout fellows set upon one man?
+Stand back, ye rascals, or I will score your pates till they
+have as many marks upon them as a pothouse door!  Are ye mad?
+I have done you no harm."
+
+"Thou liest!" quoth the one who pretended to be blind and who,
+being the lustiest villain, was the leader of the others,
+"thou liest!  For thou hast come among us as a vile spy.
+But thine ears have heard too much for thy body's good, and thou
+goest not forth from this place unless thou goest feet foremost,
+for this day thou shalt die!  Come, brothers, all together!
+Down with him!"  Then, whirling up his cudgel, he rushed
+upon Robin as an angry bull rushes upon a red rag.
+But Robin was ready for any happening.  "Crick!  Crack!" he struck
+two blows as quick as a wink, and down went the Blind man,
+rolling over and over upon the grass.
+
+At this the others bore back and stood at a little distance
+scowling upon Robin.  "Come on, ye scum!" cried he merrily.
+"Here be cakes and ale for all.  Now, who will be next served?"
+
+To this speech the beggars answered never a word, but they looked at
+Robin as great Blunderbore looked upon stout Jack the slayer of giants,
+as though they would fain eat him, body and bones; nevertheless, they did
+not care to come nigher to him and his terrible staff.  Then, seeing them
+so hesitate, Robin of a sudden leaped upon them, striking even as he leaped.
+Down went the Dumb man, and away flew his cudgel from his hand as he fell.
+At this the others ducked to avoid another blow, then, taking to
+their heels, scampered, the one one way and the other the other,
+as though they had the west wind's boots upon their feet.  Robin looked
+after them, laughing, and thought that never had he seen so fleet a runner
+as the Lame man; but neither of the beggars stopped nor turned around,
+for each felt in his mind the wind of Robin's cudgel about his ears.
+
+Then Robin turned to the two stout knaves lying upon the ground.
+Quoth he, "These fellows spake somewhat about certain moneys
+they were taking to Lincoln; methinks I may find it upon this
+stout blind fellow, who hath as keen sight as e'er a trained
+woodsman in Nottingham or Yorkshire.  It were a pity to let
+sound money stay in the pockets of such thieving knaves."
+So saying, he stooped over the burly rascal and searched
+among his rags and tatters, till presently his fingers felt
+a leathern pouch slung around his body beneath his patched
+and tattered coat.  This he stripped away and, weighing it
+in his hands, bethought himself that it was mighty heavy.
+"It were a sweet thing," said he to himself, "if this were
+filled with gold instead of copper pence."  Then, sitting down
+upon the grass, he opened the pocket and looked into it.
+There he found four round rolls wrapped up in dressed sheepskin;
+one of these rolls he opened; then his mouth gaped and his
+eyes stared, I wot, as though they would never close again,
+for what did he see but fifty pounds of bright golden money?
+He opened the other pockets and found in each one the same,
+fifty bright new-stamped golden pounds.  Quoth Robin, "I have oft
+heard that the Beggars' Guild was over-rich, but never did I think
+that they sent such sums as this to their treasury.  I shall take
+it with me, for it will be better used for charity and the good
+of my merry band than in the enriching of such knaves as these."
+So saying, he rolled up the money in the sheepskin again, and putting
+it back in the purse, he thrust the pouch into his own bosom.
+Then taking up the flask of Malmsey, he held it toward the two
+fellows lying on the grass, and quoth he, "Sweet friends,
+I drink your health and thank you dearly for what ye have
+so kindly given me this day, and so I wish you good den."
+Then, taking up his staff, he left the spot and went merrily
+on his way.
+
+But when the two stout beggars that had been rapped upon the head roused
+themselves and sat up, and when the others had gotten over their fright
+and come back, they were as sad and woebegone as four frogs in dry weather,
+for two of them had cracked crowns, their Malmsey was all gone, and they
+had not so much as a farthing to cross their palms withal.
+
+But after Robin left the little dell he strode along merrily, singing as
+he went; and so blithe was he and such a stout beggar, and, withal, so fresh
+and clean, that every merry lass he met had a sweet word for him and felt
+no fear, while the very dogs, that most times hate the sight of a beggar,
+snuffed at his legs in friendly wise and wagged their tails pleasantly;
+for dogs know an honest man by his smell, and an honest man Robin was--
+in his own way.
+
+Thus he went along till at last he had come to the wayside cross
+nigh Ollerton, and, being somewhat tired, he sat him down to rest
+upon the grassy bank in front of it.  "It groweth nigh time,"
+quoth he to himself, "that I were getting back again to Sherwood;
+yet it would please me well to have one more merry adventure ere
+I go back again to my jolly band."
+
+
+
+
+So he looked up the road and down the road to see who might come,
+until at last he saw someone drawing near, riding upon a horse.
+When the traveler came nigh enough for him to see him well,
+Robin laughed, for a strange enough figure he cut.  He was a thin,
+wizened man, and, to look upon him, you could not tell whether he was
+thirty years old or sixty, so dried up was he even to skin and bone.
+As for the nag, it was as thin as the rider, and both looked
+as though they had been baked in Mother Huddle's Oven, where folk
+are dried up so that they live forever.
+
+But although Robin laughed at the droll sight, he knew the wayfarer to be
+a certain rich corn engrosser of Worksop, who more than once had bought all
+the grain in the countryside and held it till it reached even famine prices,
+thus making much money from the needs of poor people, and for this he was
+hated far and near by everyone that knew aught of him.
+
+So, after a while, the Corn Engrosser came riding up to where Robin sat;
+whereupon merry Robin stepped straightway forth, in all his rags and tatters,
+his bags and pouches dangling about him, and laid his hand upon the horse's
+bridle rein, calling upon the other to stop.
+
+"Who art thou, fellow, that doth dare to stop me thus upon
+the King's highway?" said the lean man, in a dry, sour voice.
+
+"Pity a poor beggar," quoth Robin.  "Give me but a farthing to buy me
+a piece of bread."
+
+"Now, out upon thee!" snarled the other.  "Such sturdy rogues as thou art
+are better safe in the prisons or dancing upon nothing, with a hempen collar
+about the neck, than strolling the highways so freely."
+
+"Tut," quoth Robin, "how thou talkest!  Thou and I are brothers, man.
+Do we not both take from the poor people that which they can ill spare?
+Do we not make our livings by doing nought of any good?
+Do we not both live without touching palm to honest work?
+Have we either of us ever rubbed thumbs over honestly gained farthings?
+Go to!  We are brothers, I say; only thou art rich and I am poor;
+wherefore, I prythee once more, give me a penny."
+
+"Doss thou prate so to me, sirrah?" cried the Corn Engrosser in a rage.
+"Now I will have thee soundly whipped if ever I catch thee in any town
+where the law can lay hold of thee!  As for giving thee a penny,
+I swear to thee that I have not so much as a single groat in my purse.
+Were Robin Hood himself to take me, he might search me from crown
+to heel without finding the smallest piece of money upon me.
+I trust I am too sly to travel so nigh to Sherwood with money in my pouch,
+and that thief at large in the woods."
+
+Then merry Robin looked up and down, as if to see that there was no
+one nigh, and then, coming close to the Corn Engrosser, he stood on
+tiptoe and spake in his ear, "Thinkest thou in sooth that I am a beggar,
+as I seem to be?  Look upon me.  There is not a grain of dirt upon
+my hands or my face or my body.  Didst thou ever see a beggar so?
+I tell thee I am as honest a man as thou art.  Look, friend."
+Here he took the purse of money from his breast and showed to
+the dazzled eyes of the Corn Engrosser the bright golden pieces.
+"Friend, these rags serve but to hide an honest rich man from the eyes
+of Robin Hood."
+
+"Put up thy money, lad," cried the other quickly.  "Art thou a fool,
+to trust to beggar's rags to shield thee from Robin Hood?  If he caught thee,
+he would strip thee to the skin, for he hates a lusty beggar as he doth
+a fat priest or those of my kind."
+
+"Is it indeed so?" quoth Robin.  "Had I known this,
+mayhap I had not come hereabouts in this garb.
+But I must go forward now, as much depends upon my journeying.
+Where goest thou, friend?"
+
+"I go to Grantham," said the Corn Engrosser, "but I shall lodge
+tonight at Newark, if I can get so far upon my way."
+
+"Why, I myself am on the way to Newark," quoth merry Robin,
+"so that, as two honest men are better than one in roads beset
+by such a fellow as this Robin Hood, I will jog along with thee,
+if thou hast no dislike to my company."
+
+"Why, as thou art an honest fellow and a rich fellow,"
+said the Corn Engrosser, "I mind not thy company; but, in sooth,
+I have no great fondness for beggars."
+
+"Then forward," quoth Robin, "for the day wanes and it will be dark
+ere we reach Newark."  So off they went, the lean horse hobbling
+along as before, and Robin running beside, albeit he was so quaking
+with laughter within him that he could hardly stand; yet he dared
+not laugh aloud, lest the Corn Engrosser should suspect something.
+So they traveled along till they reached a hill just on the outskirts
+of Sherwood.  Here the lean man checked his lean horse into a walk,
+for the road was steep, and he wished to save his nag's strength,
+having far to go ere he reached Newark.  Then he turned in his saddle
+and spake to Robin again, for the first time since they had left the cross.
+"Here is thy greatest danger, friend," said he, "for here we are
+nighest to that vile thief Robin Hood, and the place where he dwells.
+Beyond this we come again to the open honest country, and so are more
+safe in our journeying."
+
+"Alas!" quoth Robin, "I would that I had as little money by me as thou hast,
+for this day I fear that Robin Hood will get every groat of my wealth."
+
+Then the other looked at Robin and winked cunningly.  Quoth he,
+"I tell thee, friend, that I have nigh as much by me as thou hast,
+but it is hidden so that never a knave in Sherwood could find it."
+
+"Thou dost surely jest," quoth Robin.  "How could one hide so much
+as two hundred pounds upon his person?"
+
+"Now, as thou art so honest a fellow, and, withal, so much younger than I am,
+I will tell thee that which I have told to no man in all the world before,
+and thus thou mayst learn never again to do such a foolish thing as to trust
+to beggar's garb to guard thee against Robin Hood.  Seest thou these clogs
+upon my feet?"
+
+"Yea," quoth Robin, laughing, "truly, they are large enough for any
+man to see, even were his sight as foggy as that of Peter Patter,
+who never could see when it was time to go to work."
+
+"Peace, friend," said the Corn Engrosser, "for this is no matter for jesting.
+The soles of these clogs are not what they seem to be, for each one is
+a sweet little box; and by twisting the second nail from the toe, the upper
+of the shoe and part of the sole lifts up like a lid, and in the spaces within
+are fourscore and ten bright golden pounds in each shoe, all wrapped in hair,
+to keep them from clinking and so telling tales of themselves."
+
+When the Corn Engrosser had told this, Robin broke into a roar
+of laughter and, laying his hands upon the bridle rein,
+stopped the sad-looking nag.  "Stay, good friend," quoth he,
+between bursts of merriment, "thou art the slyest old fox that e'er
+I saw in all my life!--In the soles of his shoon, quotha!--If ever
+I trust a poor-seeming man again, shave my head and paint it blue!
+A corn factor, a horse jockey, an estate agent, and a jackdaw
+for cunningness, say I!"  And he laughed again till he shook
+in his shoes with mirth.
+
+All this time the Corn Engrosser had been staring at Robin,
+his mouth agape with wonder.  "Art thou mad," quoth he, "to talk
+in this way, so loud and in such a place?  Let us forward,
+and save thy mirth till we are safe and sound at Newark."
+
+"Nay," quoth Robin, the tears of merriment wet on his cheeks, "on second
+thoughts I go no farther than here, for I have good friends hereabouts.
+Thou mayst go forward if thou dost list, thou sweet pretty fellow, but thou
+must go forward barefoot, for I am afraid that thy shoon must be left behind.
+Off with them, friend, for I tell thee I have taken a great fancy to them."
+
+At these words the corn factor grew pale as a linen napkin.
+"Who art thou that talkest so?" said he.
+
+Then merry Robin laughed again, and quoth he, "Men hereabouts
+call me Robin Hood; so, sweet friend, thou hadst best do my
+bidding and give me thy shoes, wherefore hasten, I prythee,
+or else thou wilt not get to fair Newark Town till after dark."
+
+At the sound of the name of Robin Hood, the corn factor quaked with fear,
+so that he had to seize his horse by the mane to save himself from
+falling off its back.  Then straightway, and without more words,
+he stripped off his clogs and let them fall upon the road.
+Robin, still holding the bridle rein, stooped and picked them up.
+Then he said, "Sweet friend, I am used to ask those that I
+have dealings with to come and feast at Sherwood with me.
+I will not ask thee, because of our pleasant journey together;
+for I tell thee there be those in Sherwood that would not be
+so gentle with thee as I have been.  The name of Corn Engrosser
+leaves a nasty taste upon the tongue of all honest men.
+Take a fool's advice of me and come no more so nigh to Sherwood,
+or mayhap some day thou mayst of a sudden find a clothyard shaft
+betwixt thy ribs.  So, with this, I give thee good den."  Hereupon he
+clapped his hand to the horse's flank and off went nag and rider.
+But the man's face was all bedewed with the sweat of fright,
+and never again, I wot, was he found so close to Sherwood Forest
+as he had been this day.
+
+Robin stood and looked after him, and, when he was fairly gone,
+turned, laughing, and entered the forest carrying the shoes
+in his hand.
+
+That night in sweet Sherwood the red fires glowed brightly in wavering
+light on tree and bush, and all around sat or lay the stout fellows
+of the band to hear Robin Hood and Little John tell their adventures.
+All listened closely, and again and again the woods rang with
+shouts of laughter.
+
+When all was told, Friar Tuck spoke up.  "Good master," said he,
+"thou hast had a pretty time, but still I hold to my saying,
+that the life of the barefoot friar is the merrier of the two."
+
+"Nay," quoth Will Stutely, "I hold with our master, that he hath
+had the pleasanter doings of the two, for he hath had two stout
+bouts at quarterstaff this day."
+
+So some of the band held with Robin Hood and some with
+Little John.  As for me, I think--But I leave it with you to say
+for yourselves which you hold with.
+
+
+
+Robin Hood Shoots Before Queen Eleanor
+
+THE HIGHROAD stretched white and dusty in the hot summer
+afternoon sun, and the trees stood motionless along the roadside.
+All across the meadow lands the hot air danced and quivered,
+and in the limpid waters of the lowland brook, spanned by a little
+stone bridge, the fish hung motionless above the yellow gravel,
+and the dragonfly sat quite still, perched upon the sharp tip
+of a spike of the rushes, with its wings glistening in the sun.
+
+Along the road a youth came riding upon a fair milk-white barb,
+and the folk that he passed stopped and turned and looked after him,
+for never had so lovely a lad or one so gaily clad been seen in
+Nottingham before.  He could not have been more than sixteen years
+of age, and was as fair as any maiden.  His long yellow hair flowed
+behind him as he rode along, all clad in silk and velvet, with jewels
+flashing and dagger jingling against the pommel of the saddle.
+Thus came the Queen's Page, young Richard Partington, from famous
+London Town down into Nottinghamshire, upon Her Majesty's bidding,
+to seek Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest.
+
+The road was hot and dusty and his journey had been long,
+for that day he had come all the way from Leicester Town, a good
+twenty miles and more; wherefore young Partington was right glad
+when he saw before him a sweet little inn, all shady and cool beneath
+the trees, in front of the door of which a sign hung pendant,
+bearing the picture of a blue boar.  Here he drew rein and called
+loudly for a pottle of Rhenish wine to be brought him, for stout
+country ale was too coarse a drink for this young gentleman.
+Five lusty fellows sat upon the bench beneath the pleasant shade
+of the wide-spreading oak in front of the inn door, drinking ale
+and beer, and all stared amain at this fair and gallant lad.
+Two of the stoutest of them were clothed in Lincoln green,
+and a great heavy oaken staff leaned against the gnarled oak tree
+trunk beside each fellow.
+
+The landlord came and brought a pottle of wine and a long narrow glass
+upon a salver, which he held up to the Page as he sat upon his horse.
+Young Partington poured forth the bright yellow wine and holding
+the glass aloft, cried, "Here is to the health and long happiness
+of my royal mistress, the noble Queen Eleanor; and may my journey
+and her desirings soon have end, and I find a certain stout yeoman
+men call Robin Hood."
+
+At these words all stared, but presently the two stout yeomen
+in Lincoln green began whispering together.  Then one of the two,
+whom Partington thought to be the tallest and stoutest fellow
+he had ever beheld, spoke up and said, "What seekest thou of
+Robin Hood, Sir Page?  And what does our good Queen Eleanor wish of him?
+I ask this of thee, not foolishly, but with reason, for I know
+somewhat of this stout yeoman."
+
+"An thou knowest aught of him, good fellow," said young Partington,
+"thou wilt do great service to him and great pleasure to our royal
+Queen by aiding me to find him."
+
+Then up spake the other yeoman, who was a handsome fellow with
+sunburned face and nut-brown, curling hair, "Thou hast an honest look,
+Sir Page, and our Queen is kind and true to all stout yeomen.
+Methinks I and my friend here might safely guide thee to Robin Hood,
+for we know where he may be found.  Yet I tell thee plainly,
+we would not for all merry England have aught of harm befall him."
+
+"Set thy mind at ease; I bring nought of ill with me,"
+quoth Richard Partington.  "I bring a kind message to him
+from our Queen, therefore an ye know where he is to be found,
+I pray you to guide me thither."
+
+Then the two yeomen looked at one another again, and the tall man said,
+"Surely it were safe to do this thing, Will"; whereat the other nodded.
+Thereupon both arose, and the tall yeoman said, "We think thou art true,
+Sir Page, and meanest no harm, therefore we will guide thee to Robin Hood
+as thou dost wish."
+
+Then Partington paid his score, and the yeomen coming forward,
+they all straightway departed upon their way.
+
+
+Under the greenwood tree, in the cool shade that spread all
+around upon the sward, with flickering lights here and there,
+Robin Hood and many of his band lay upon the soft green grass,
+while Allan a Dale sang and played upon his sweetly sounding harp.
+All listened in silence, for young Allan's singing was one of the greatest
+joys in all the world to them; but as they so listened there came
+of a sudden the sound of a horse's feet, and presently Little John
+and Will Stutely came forth from the forest path into the open glade,
+young Richard Partington riding between them upon his milk-white horse.
+The three came toward where Robin Hood sat, all the band staring with might
+and main, for never had they seen so gay a sight as this young Page,
+nor one so richly clad in silks and velvets and gold and jewels.
+Then Robin arose and stepped forth to meet him, and Partington leaped from
+his horse and doffing his cap of crimson velvet, met Robin as he came.
+"Now, welcome!" cried Robin.  "Now, welcome, fair youth, and tell me,
+I prythee, what bringeth one of so fair a presence and clad in such
+noble garb to our poor forest of Sherwood?"
+
+Then young Partington said, "If I err not, thou art the famous
+Robin Hood, and these thy stout band of outlawed yeomen.
+To thee I bring greetings from our noble Queen Eleanor.  Oft hath
+she heard thee spoken of and thy merry doings hereabouts,
+and fain would she behold thy face; therefore she bids me
+tell thee that if thou wilt presently come to London Town,
+she will do all in her power to guard thee against harm,
+and will send thee back safe to Sherwood Forest again.
+Four days hence, in Finsbury Fields, our good King Henry,
+of great renown, holdeth a grand shooting match, and all
+the most famous archers of merry England will be thereat.
+Our Queen would fain see thee strive with these, knowing that if thou
+wilt come thou wilt, with little doubt, carry off the prize.
+Therefore she hath sent me with this greeting, and furthermore
+sends thee, as a sign of great good will, this golden ring from
+off her own fair thumb, which I give herewith into thy hands."
+
+Then Robin Hood bowed his head and taking the ring, kissed it
+right loyally, and then slipped it upon his little finger.
+Quoth he, "Sooner would I lose my life than this ring; and ere
+it departs from me, my hand shall be cold in death or stricken
+off at the wrist.  Fair Sir Page, I will do our Queen's bidding,
+and will presently hie with thee to London; but, ere we go,
+I will feast thee here in the woodlands with the very best we have."
+
+"It may not be," said the Page; "we have no time to tarry,
+therefore get thyself ready straightway; and if there be any
+of thy band that thou wouldst take with thee, our Queen bids
+me say that she will make them right welcome likewise."
+
+"Truly, thou art right," quoth Robin, "and we have but short
+time to stay; therefore I will get me ready presently.
+I will choose three of my men, only, to go with me, and these
+three shall be Little John, mine own true right-hand man,
+Will Scarlet, my cousin, and Allan a Dale, my minstrel.
+Go, lads, and get ye ready straightway, and we will presently
+off with all speed that we may.  Thou, Will Stutely, shall be
+the chief of the band while I am gone."
+
+Then Little John and Will Scarlet and Allan a Dale ran leaping, full of joy,
+to make themselves ready, while Robin also prepared himself for the journey.
+After a while they all four came forth, and a right fair sight they made,
+for Robin was clad in blue from head to foot, and Little John and
+Will Scarlet in good Lincoln green, and as for Allan a Dale, he was dressed
+in scarlet from the crown of his head to the toes of his pointed shoes.
+Each man wore beneath his cap a little head covering of burnished steel
+set with rivets of gold, and underneath his jerkin a coat of linked mail,
+as fine as carded wool, yet so tough that no arrow could pierce it.
+Then, seeing all were ready, young Partington mounted his horse again,
+and the yeomen having shaken hands all around, the five departed
+upon their way.
+
+That night they took up their inn in Melton Mowbray, in Leicestershire,
+and the next night they lodged at Kettering, in Northamptonshire;
+and the next at Bedford Town; and the next at St. Albans,
+in Hertfordshire.  This place they left not long after the middle
+of the night, and traveling fast through the tender dawning of
+the summer day, when the dews lay shining on the meadows and faint
+mists hung in the dales, when the birds sang their sweetest and
+the cobwebs beneath the hedges glimmered like fairy cloth of silver,
+they came at last to the towers and walls of famous London Town,
+while the morn was still young and all golden toward the east.
+
+Queen Eleanor sat in her royal bower, through the open casements of
+which poured the sweet yellow sunshine in great floods of golden light.
+All about her stood her ladies-in-waiting chatting in low voices,
+while she herself sat dreamily where the mild air came softly
+drifting into the room laden with the fresh perfumes of the sweet
+red roses that bloomed in the great garden beneath the wall.
+To her came one who said that her page, Richard Partington,
+and four stout yeomen waited her pleasure in the court below.
+Then Queen Eleanor arose joyously and bade them be straightway
+shown into her presence.
+
+Thus Robin Hood and Little John and Will Scarlet and Allan a Dale came
+before the Queen into her own royal bower.  Then Robin kneeled before
+the Queen with his hands folded upon his breast, saying in simple phrase,
+"Here am I, Robin Hood.  Thou didst bid me come, and lo, I do thy bidding.
+I give myself to thee as thy true servant, and will do thy commanding,
+even if it be to the shedding of the last drop of my life's blood."
+
+But good Queen Eleanor smiled pleasantly upon him, bidding him to arise.
+Then she made them all be seated to rest themselves after their long journey.
+Rich food was brought them and noble wines, and she had her own pages
+to wait upon the wants of the yeomen.  At last, after they had eaten
+all they could, she began questioning them of their merry adventures.
+Then they told her all of the lusty doings herein spoken of, and among
+others that concerning the Bishop of Hereford and Sir Richard of the Lea,
+and how the Bishop had abided three days in Sherwood Forest.  At this,
+the Queen and the ladies about her laughed again and again, for they
+pictured to themselves the stout Bishop abiding in the forest and ranging
+the woods in lusty sport with Robin and his band.  Then, when they had
+told all that they could bring to mind, the Queen asked Allan to sing
+to her, for his fame as a minstrel had reached even to the court at
+London Town.  So straightway Allan took up his harp in his hand, and,
+without more asking, touched the strings lightly till they all rang sweetly,
+then he sang thus:
+
+ "_Gentle river, gentle river,
+     Bright thy crystal waters flow,
+ Sliding where the aspens shiver,
+     Gliding where the lilies blow,
+
+ "Singing over pebbled shallows,
+     Kissing blossoms bending low,
+ Breaking 'neath the dipping swallows,
+     Purpling where the breezes blow.
+
+ "Floating on thy breast forever
+     Down thy current I could glide;
+ Grief and pain should reach me never
+     On thy bright and gentle tide.
+
+ "So my aching heart seeks thine, love,
+     There to find its rest and peace,
+ For, through loving, bliss is mine, love,
+     And my many troubles cease_."
+
+
+Thus Allan sang, and as he sang all eyes dwelled upon him and not
+a sound broke the stillness, and even after he had done the silence
+hung for a short space.  So the time passed till the hour drew nigh
+for the holding of the great archery match in Finsbury Fields.
+
+A gay sight were famous Finsbury Fields on that bright and sunny
+morning of lusty summertime.  Along the end of the meadow stood
+the booths for the different bands of archers, for the King's yeomen
+were divided into companies of fourscore men, and each company
+had a captain over it; so on the bright greensward stood ten booths
+of striped canvas, a booth for each band of the royal archers,
+and at the peak of each fluttered a flag in the mellow air,
+and the flag was the color that belonged to the captain of each band.
+From the center booth hung the yellow flag of Tepus, the famous
+bow bearer of the King; next to it, on one hand, was the blue
+flag of Gilbert of the White Hand, and on the other the blood-red
+pennant of stout young Clifton of Buckinghamshire.  The seven
+other archer captains were also men of great renown; among them
+were Egbert of Kent and William of Southampton; but those first
+named were most famous of all.  The noise of many voices in talk
+and laughter came from within the booths, and in and out ran
+the attendants like ants about an ant-hill. Some bore ale
+and beer, and some bundles of bowstrings or sheaves of arrows.
+On each side of the archery range were rows upon rows of seats
+reaching high aloft, and in the center of the north side was a raised
+dais for the King and Queen, shaded by canvas of gay colors,
+and hung about with streaming silken pennants of red and blue
+and green and white.  As yet the King and Queen had not come,
+but all the other benches were full of people, rising head above
+head high aloft till it made the eye dizzy to look upon them.
+Eightscore yards distant from the mark from which the archers
+were to shoot stood ten fair targets, each target marked by a flag
+of the color belonging to the band that was to shoot thereat.
+So all was ready for the coming of the King and Queen.
+
+At last a great blast of bugles sounded, and into the meadow came
+riding six trumpeters with silver trumpets, from which hung velvet
+banners heavy with rich workings of silver and gold thread.
+Behind these came stout King Henry upon a dapple-gray stallion,
+with his Queen beside him upon a milk-white palfrey.
+On either side of them walked the yeomen of the guard, the bright
+sunlight flashing from the polished blades of the steel halberds
+they carried.  Behind these came the Court in a great crowd,
+so that presently all the lawn was alive with bright colors,
+with silk and velvet, with waving plumes and gleaming gold,
+with flashing jewels and sword hilts; a gallant sight on that
+bright summer day.
+
+Then all the people arose and shouted, so that their voices
+sounded like the storm upon the Cornish coast, when the dark
+waves run upon the shore and leap and break, surging amid
+the rocks; so, amid the roaring and the surging of the people,
+and the waving of scarfs and kerchiefs, the King and Queen
+came to their place, and, getting down from their horses,
+mounted the broad stairs that led to the raised platform,
+and there took their seats on two thrones bedecked with purple
+silks and cloths of silver and of gold.
+
+When all was quiet a bugle sounded, and straightway the archers came
+marching in order from their tents.  Fortyscore they were in all,
+as stalwart a band of yeomen as could be found in all the wide world.
+So they came in orderly fashion and stood in front of the dais where
+King Henry and his Queen sat.  King Henry looked up and down their
+ranks right proudly, for his heart warmed within him at the sight
+of such a gallant band of yeomen.  Then he bade his herald Sir Hugh
+de Mowbray stand forth and proclaim the rules governing the game.
+So Sir Hugh stepped to the edge of the platform and spoke in a loud
+clear voice, and thus he said:
+
+That each man should shoot seven arrows at the target that belonged
+to his band, and, of the fourscore yeomen of each band, the three
+that shot the best should be chosen.  These three should shoot three
+arrows apiece, and the one that shot the best should again be chosen.
+Then each of these should again shoot three arrows apiece,
+and the one that shot the best should have the first prize,
+the one that shot the next best should have the second,
+and the one that shot the next best should have the third prize.
+Each of the others should have fourscore silver pennies for his shooting.
+The first prize was to be twoscore and ten golden pounds, a silver
+bugle horn inlaid with gold, and a quiver with ten white arrows
+tipped with gold and feathered with the white swan's-wing therein.
+The second prize was to be fivescore of the fattest bucks that run
+on Dallen Lea, to be shot when the yeoman that won them chose.
+The third prize was to be two tuns of good Rhenish wine.
+
+So Sir Hugh spoke, and when he had done all the archers waved
+their bows aloft and shouted.  Then each band turned and marched
+in order back to its place.
+
+And now the shooting began, the captains first taking stand and speeding
+their shafts and then making room for the men who shot, each in turn,
+after them.  Two hundred and eighty score shafts were shot in all,
+and so deftly were they sped that when the shooting was done each target
+looked like the back of a hedgehog when the farm dog snuffs at it.
+A long time was taken in this shooting, and when it was over the judges
+came forward, looked carefully at the targets, and proclaimed in a
+loud voice which three had shot the best from the separate bands.
+Then a great hubbub of voices arose, each man among the crowd that
+looked on calling for his favorite archer.  Then ten fresh targets
+were brought forward, and every sound was hushed as the archers took
+their places once more.
+
+This time the shooting was more speedily done, for only nine
+shafts were shot by each band.  Not an arrow missed the targets,
+but in that of Gilbert of the White Hand five arrows were in the small
+white spot that marked the center; of these five three were sped
+by Gilbert.  Then the judges came forward again, and looking at
+the targets, called aloud the names of the archer chosen as the best
+bowman of each band.  Of these Gilbert of the White Hand led,
+for six of the ten arrows he had shot had lodged in the center;
+but stout Tepus and young Clifton trod close upon his heels;
+yet the others stood a fair chance for the second or third place.
+
+And now, amid the roaring of the crowd, those ten stout fellows that were left
+went back to their tents to rest for a while and change their bowstrings,
+for nought must fail at this next round, and no hand must tremble or eye grow
+dim because of weariness.
+
+Then while the deep buzz and hum of talking sounded all around
+like the noise of the wind in the leafy forest, Queen Eleanor
+turned to the King, and quoth she, "Thinkest thou that these yeomen
+so chosen are the very best archers in all merry England?"
+
+"Yea, truly," said the King, smiling, for he was well
+pleased with the sport that he had seen; "and I tell thee,
+that not only are they the best archers in all merry England,
+but in all the wide world beside."
+
+"But what wouldst thou say," quoth Queen Eleanor, "if I were to find
+three archers to match the best three yeomen of all thy guard?"
+
+"I would say thou hast done what I could not do," said the King, laughing,
+"for I tell thee there lives not in all the world three archers to match
+Tepus and Gilbert and Clifton of Buckinghamshire."
+
+"Now," said the Queen, "I know of three yeomen, and in truth I
+have seen them not long since, that I would not fear to match
+against any three that thou canst choose from among all thy
+fortyscore archers; and, moreover, I will match them here this very day.
+But I will only match them with thy archers providing that thou
+wilt grant a free pardon to all that may come in my behalf."
+
+At this, the King laughed loud and long.  "Truly," said he,
+"thou art taking up with strange matters for a queen.
+If thou wilt bring those three fellows that thou speakest of,
+I will promise faithfully to give them free pardon for forty days,
+to come or to go wheresoever they please, nor will I harm a hair
+of their heads in all that time.  Moreover, if these that thou
+bringest shoot better than my yeomen, man for man, they shall
+have the prizes for themselves according to their shooting.
+But as thou hast so taken up of a sudden with sports of this kind,
+hast thou a mind for a wager?"
+
+"Why, in sooth," said Queen Eleanor, laughing, "I know nought
+of such matters, but if thou hast a mind to do somewhat in that way,
+I will strive to pleasure thee.  What wilt thou wager upon thy men?"
+
+Then the merry King laughed again, for he dearly loved goodly jest;
+so he said, amidst his laughter, "I will wager thee ten tuns of Rhenish wine,
+ten tuns of the stoutest ale, and tenscore bows of tempered Spanish yew,
+with quivers and arrows to match."
+
+All that stood around smiled at this, for it seemed a merry wager for
+a king to give to a queen; but Queen Eleanor bowed her head quietly.
+"I will take thy wager," said she, "for I know right well where to place
+those things that thou hast spoken of.  Now, who will be on my side
+in this matter?"  And she looked around upon them that stood about;
+but no one spake or cared to wager upon the Queen's side against
+such archers as Tepus and Gilbert and Clifton.  Then the Queen
+spoke again, "Now, who will back me in this wager?  Wilt thou,
+my Lord Bishop of Hereford?"
+
+"Nay," quoth the Bishop hastily, "it ill befits one of my cloth to deal
+in such matters.  Moreover, there are no such archers as His Majesty's
+in all the world; therefore I would but lose my money.
+
+"Methinks the thought of thy gold weigheth more heavily
+with thee than the wrong to thy cloth," said the Queen,
+smiling, and at this a ripple of laughter went around,
+for everyone knew how fond the Bishop was of his money.
+Then the Queen turned to a knight who stood near, whose name was
+Sir Robert Lee.  "Wilt thou back me in this manner?" said she.
+"Thou art surely rich enough to risk so much for the sake
+of a lady."
+
+"To pleasure my Queen I will do it," said Sir Robert Lee,
+"but for the sake of no other in all the world would I wager a groat,
+for no man can stand against Tepus and Gilbert and Clifton."
+
+Then turning to the King, Queen Eleanor said, "I want no such aid
+as Sir Robert giveth me; but against thy wine and beer and stout bows
+of yew I wager this girdle all set with jewels from around my waist;
+and surely that is worth more than thine."
+
+"Now, I take thy wager," quoth the King.  "Send for thy archers straightway.
+But here come forth the others; let them shoot, and then I will match
+those that win against all the world."
+
+"So be it," said the Queen.  Thereupon, beckoning to young
+Richard Partington, she whispered something in his ear, and straightway
+the Page bowed and left the place, crossing the meadow to the other
+side of the range, where he was presently lost in the crowd.
+At this, all that stood around whispered to one another,
+wondering what it all meant, and what three men the Queen was
+about to set against those famous archers of the King's guard.
+
+And now the ten archers of the King's guard took their stand again,
+and all the great crowd was hushed to the stillness of death.
+Slowly and carefully each man shot his shafts, and so deep was
+the silence that you could hear every arrow rap against the target
+as it struck it.  Then, when the last shaft had sped, a great roar
+went up; and the shooting, I wot, was well worthy of the sound.
+Once again Gilbert had lodged three arrows in the white; Tepus came
+second with two in the white and one in the black ring next to it;
+but stout Clifton had gone down and Hubert of Suffolk had taken
+the third place, for, while both those two good yeomen had lodged
+two in the white, Clifton had lost one shot upon the fourth ring,
+and Hubert came in with one in the third.
+
+All the archers around Gilbert's booth shouted for joy till their throats
+were hoarse, tossing their caps aloft, and shaking hands with one another.
+
+In the midst of all the noise and hubbub five men came walking across
+the lawn toward the King's pavilion.  The first was Richard Partington,
+and was known to most folk there, but the others were strange to everybody.
+Beside young Partington walked a yeoman clad in blue, and behind
+came three others, two in Lincoln green and one in scarlet.
+This last yeoman carried three stout bows of yew tree, two fancifully
+inlaid with silver and one with gold.  While these five men came
+walking across the meadow, a messenger came running from the King's
+booth and summoned Gilbert and Tepus and Hubert to go with him.
+And now the shouting quickly ceased, for all saw that something
+unwonted was toward, so the folk stood up in their places and leaned
+forward to see what was the ado.
+
+When Partington and the others came before the spot where the King and
+Queen sat, the four yeomen bent their knees and doffed their caps unto her.
+King Henry leaned far forward and stared at them closely, but the Bishop
+of Hereford, when he saw their faces, started as though stung by a wasp.
+He opened his mouth as though about to speak, but, looking up, he saw
+the Queen gazing at him with a smile upon her lips, so he said nothing,
+but bit his nether lip, while his face was as red as a cherry.
+
+Then the Queen leaned forward and spake in a clear voice.
+"Locksley," said she, "I have made a wager with the King that thou
+and two of thy men can outshoot any three that he can send against you.
+Wilt thou do thy best for my sake?"
+
+"Yea," quoth Robin Hood, to whom she spake, "I will do my best for thy sake,
+and, if I fail, I make my vow never to finger bowstring more."
+
+Now, although Little John had been somewhat abashed in the Queen's bower,
+he felt himself the sturdy fellow he was when the soles of his feet pressed
+green grass again; so he said boldly, "Now, blessings on thy sweet face,
+say I. An there lived a man that would not do his best for thee--I will
+say nought, only I would like to have the cracking of his knave's pate!
+
+"Peace, Little John!" said Robin Hood hastily, in a low voice;
+but good Queen Eleanor laughed aloud, and a ripple of merriment
+sounded all over the booth.
+
+The Bishop of Hereford did not laugh, neither did the King,
+but he turned to the Queen, and quoth he, "Who are these men
+that thou hast brought before us?"
+
+Then up spoke the Bishop hastily, for he could hold his peace no longer:
+"Your Majesty," quoth he, "yon fellow in blue is a certain outlawed
+thief of the mid-country, named Robin Hood; yon tall, strapping villain
+goeth by the name of Little John; the other fellow in green is a certain
+backsliding gentleman, known as Will Scarlet; the man in red is a rogue
+of a northern minstrel, named Allan a Dale."
+
+At this speech the King's brows drew together blackly, and he turned
+to the Queen.  "Is this true?" said he sternly.
+
+"Yea," said the Queen, smiling, "the Bishop hath told the truth;
+and truly he should know them well, for he and two of his friars spent
+three days in merry sport with Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest.  I did
+little think that the good Bishop would so betray his friends.
+But bear in mind that thou hast pledged thy promise for the safety
+of these good yeomen for forty days."
+
+"I will keep my promise," said the King, in a deep voice
+that showed the anger in his heart, "but when these forty
+days are gone let this outlaw look to himself, for mayhap
+things will not go so smoothly with him as he would like."
+Then he turned to his archers, who stood near the Sherwood yeomen,
+listening and wondering at all that passed.  Quoth he,
+"Gilbert, and thou, Tepus, and thou, Hubert, I have pledged
+myself that ye shall shoot against these three fellows.
+If ye outshoot the knaves I will fill your caps with silver pennies;
+if ye fail ye shall lose your prizes that ye have won so fairly,
+and they go to them that shoot against you, man to man.
+Do your best, lads, and if ye win this bout ye shall be glad
+of it to the last days of your life.  Go, now, and get you gone
+to the butts."
+
+Then the three archers of the King turned and went back to their booths,
+and Robin and his men went to their places at the mark from which they
+were to shoot.  Then they strung their bows and made themselves ready,
+looking over their quivers of arrows, and picking out the roundest
+and the best feathered.
+
+But when the King's archers went to their tents, they told
+their friends all that had passed, and how that these four
+men were the famous Robin Hood and three of his band, to wit,
+Little John, Will Scarlet, and Allan a Dale.  The news of this
+buzzed around among the archers in the booths, for there was not
+a man there that had not heard of these great mid-country yeomen.
+From the archers the news was taken up by the crowd that looked
+on at the shooting, so that at last everybody stood up,
+craning their necks to catch sight of the famous outlaws.
+
+Six fresh targets were now set up, one for each man that was to shoot;
+whereupon Gilbert and Tepus and Hubert came straightway forth
+from the booths.  Then Robin Hood and Gilbert of the White Hand
+tossed a farthing aloft to see who should lead in the shooting,
+and the lot fell to Gilbert's side; thereupon he called upon Hubert
+of Suffolk to lead.
+
+Hubert took his place, planted his foot firmly, and fitted a fair,
+smooth arrow; then, breathing upon his fingertips, he drew the string
+slowly and carefully.  The arrow sped true, and lodged in the white;
+again he shot, and again he hit the clout; a third shaft he sped,
+but this time failed of the center, and but struck the black,
+yet not more than a finger's-breadth from the white.
+At this a shout went up, for it was the best shooting that Hubert
+had yet done that day.
+
+Merry Robin laughed, and quoth he, "Thou wilt have an ill
+time bettering that round, Will, for it is thy turn next.
+Brace thy thews, lad, and bring not shame upon Sherwood."
+
+Then Will Scarlet took his place; but, because of overcaution,
+he spoiled his target with the very first arrow that he sped,
+for he hit the next ring to the black, the second from the center.
+At this Robin bit his lips.  "Lad, lad," quoth he, "hold not the string
+so long!  Have I not often told thee what Gaffer Swanthold sayeth,
+that `overcaution spilleth the milk'?" To this Will Scarlet took heed,
+so the next arrow he shot lodged fairly in the center ring;
+again he shot, and again he smote the center; but, for all that,
+stout Hubert had outshot him, and showed the better target.
+Then all those that looked on clapped their hands for joy because
+that Hubert had overcome the stranger.
+
+Quoth the King grimly, to the Queen, "If thy archers shoot
+no better than that, thou art like to lose thy wager, lady."
+But Queen Eleanor smiled, for she looked for better things
+from Robin Hood and Little John.
+
+And now Tepus took his place to shoot.  He, also, took overheed
+to what he was about, and so he fell into Will Scarlet's error.
+The first arrow he struck into the center ring, but the second missed
+its mark, and smote the black; the last arrow was tipped with luck, for it
+smote the very center of the clout, upon the black spot that marked it.
+Quoth Robin Hood, "That is the sweetest shot that hath been sped
+this day; but, nevertheless, friend Tepus, thy cake is burned, methinks.
+Little John, it is thy turn next."
+
+So Little John took his place as bidden, and shot his three arrows quickly.
+He never lowered his bow arm in all the shooting, but fitted each shaft
+with his longbow raised; yet all three of his arrows smote the center
+within easy distance of the black.  At this no sound of shouting was heard,
+for, although it was the best shooting that had been done that day,
+the folk of London Town did not like to see the stout Tepus overcome
+by a fellow from the countryside, even were he as famous as Little John.
+
+And now stout Gilbert of the White Hand took his place and shot
+with the greatest care; and again, for the third time in one day,
+he struck all three shafts into the clout.
+
+"Well done, Gilbert!" quoth Robin Hood, smiting him upon the shoulder.
+"I make my vow, thou art one of the best archers that ever mine eyes beheld.
+Thou shouldst be a free and merry ranger like us, lad, for thou art
+better fitted for the greenwood than for the cobblestones and gray
+walls of London Town."  So saying, he took his place, and drew a fair,
+round arrow from his quiver, which he turned over and over ere he fitted
+it to his bowstring.
+
+Then the King muttered in his beard, "Now, blessed Saint Hubert, if thou wilt
+but jog that rogue's elbow so as to make him smite even the second ring,
+I will give eightscore waxen candles three fingers'-breadth in thickness
+to thy chapel nigh Matching."  But it may be Saint Hubert's ears were stuffed
+with tow, for he seemed not to hear the King's prayer this day.
+
+Having gotten three shafts to his liking, merry Robin looked
+carefully to his bowstring ere he shot.  "Yea," quoth he to Gilbert,
+who stood nigh him to watch his shooting, "thou shouldst pay us
+a visit at merry Sherwood."  Here he drew the bowstring to his ear.
+"In London"--here he loosed his shaft--"thou canst find nought
+to shoot at but rooks and daws; there one can tickle the ribs
+of the noblest stags in England."  So he shot even while he talked,
+yet the shaft lodged not more than half an inch from the very center.
+
+"By my soul!" cried Gilbert.  "Art thou the devil in blue,
+to shoot in that wise?"
+
+"Nay," quoth Robin, laughing, "not quite so ill as that, I trust."
+And he took up another shaft and fitted it to the string.
+Again he shot, and again he smote his arrow close beside
+the center; a third time he loosed his bowstring and dropped
+his arrow just betwixt the other two and into the very center,
+so that the feathers of all three were ruffled together,
+seeming from a distance to be one thick shaft.
+
+And now a low murmur ran all among that great crowd,
+for never before had London seen such shooting as this;
+and never again would it see it after Robin Hood's day had gone.
+All saw that the King's archers were fairly beaten, and stout Gilbert
+clapped his palm to Robin's, owning that he could never hope to draw
+such a bowstring as Robin Hood or Little John.  But the King,
+full of wrath, would not have it so, though he knew in his
+mind that his men could not stand against those fellows.
+"Nay!" cried he, clenching his hands upon the arms of his seat,
+"Gilbert is not yet beaten!  Did he not strike the clout thrice?
+Although I have lost my wager, he hath not yet lost the first prize.
+They shall shoot again, and still again, till either he or that knave
+Robin Hood cometh off the best.  Go thou, Sir Hugh, and bid them shoot
+another round, and another, until one or the other is overcome."
+Then Sir Hugh, seeing how wroth the King was, said never a word,
+but went straightway to do his bidding; so he came to where Robin Hood
+and the other stood, and told them what the King had said.
+
+"With all my heart," quoth merry Robin, "I will shoot from this
+time till tomorrow day if it can pleasure my most gracious lord
+and King.  Take thy place, Gilbert lad, and shoot."
+
+So Gilbert took his place once more, but this time he failed, for,
+a sudden little wind arising, his shaft missed the center ring,
+but by not more than the breadth of a barley straw.
+
+"Thy eggs are cracked, Gilbert," quoth Robin, laughing; and straightway
+he loosed a shaft, and once more smote the white circle of the center.
+
+Then the King arose from his place, and not a word said he,
+but he looked around with a baleful look, and it would have been an ill
+day for anyone that he saw with a joyous or a merry look upon his face.
+Then he and his Queen and all the court left the place, but the King's
+heart was brimming full of wrath.
+
+After the King had gone, all the yeomen of the archer guard came
+crowding around Robin, and Little John, and Will, and Allan,
+to snatch a look at these famous fellows from the mid-country;
+and with them came many that had been onlookers at the sport,
+for the same purpose.  Thus it happened presently that the yeomen,
+to whom Gilbert stood talking, were all surrounded by a crowd
+of people that formed a ring about them.
+
+After a while the three judges that had the giving away of the prizes
+came forward, and the chief of them all spake to Robin and said,
+"According to agreement, the first prize belongeth rightly to thee;
+so here I give thee the silver bugle, here the quiver of ten golden arrows,
+and here a purse of twoscore and ten golden pounds."  And as he spake
+he handed those things to Robin, and then turned to Little John.  "To thee,"
+he said, "belongeth the second prize, to wit, fivescore of the finest harts
+that run on Dallen Lea.  Thou mayest shoot them whensoever thou dost list."
+Last of all he turned to stout Hubert.  "Thou," said he, "hast held
+thine own against the yeomen with whom thou didst shoot, and so thou
+hast kept the prize duly thine, to wit, two tuns of good Rhenish wine.
+These shall be delivered to thee whensoever thou dost list."
+Then he called upon the other seven of the King's archers who had last shot,
+and gave each fourscore silver pennies.
+
+Then up spake Robin, and quoth he, "This silver bugle I keep in honor
+of this shooting match; but thou, Gilbert, art the best archer of all
+the King's guard, and to thee I freely give this purse of gold.
+Take it, man, and would it were ten times as much, for thou art
+a right yeoman, good and true.  Furthermore, to each of the ten
+that last shot I give one of these golden shafts apiece.
+Keep them always by you, so that ye may tell your grandchildren,
+an ye are ever blessed with them, that ye are the very stoutest
+yeomen in all the wide world."
+
+At this all shouted aloud, for it pleased them to hear Robin
+speak so of them.
+
+Then up spake Little John.  "Good friend Tepus," said he, "I want
+not those harts of Dallen Lea that yon stout judge spoke of but now,
+for in truth we have enow and more than enow in our own country.
+Twoscore and ten I give to thee for thine own shooting, and five
+I give to each band for their pleasure.
+
+At this another great shout went up, and many tossed their caps aloft,
+and swore among themselves that no better fellows ever walked the sod
+than Robin Hood and his stout yeomen.
+
+While they so shouted with loud voices, a tall burly yeoman
+of the King's guard came forward and plucked Robin by the sleeve.
+"Good master," quoth he, "I have somewhat to tell thee in thine ear;
+a silly thing, God wot, for one stout yeoman to tell another;
+but a young peacock of a page, one Richard Partington, was seeking thee
+without avail in the crowd, and, not being able to find thee, told me
+that he bore a message to thee from a certain lady that thou wottest of.
+This message he bade me tell thee privily, word for word, and thus it was.
+Let me see--I trust I have forgot it not--yea, thus it was:
+`The lion growls.  Beware thy head.'  "
+
+"Is it so?" quoth Robin, starting; for he knew right well that it was
+the Queen sent the message, and that she spake of the King's wrath.
+"Now, I thank thee, good fellow, for thou hast done me greater service
+than thou knowest of this day."  Then he called his three yeomen together
+and told them privately that they had best be jogging, as it was like to
+be ill for them so nigh merry London Town.  So, without tarrying longer,
+they made their way through the crowd until they had come out from the press.
+Then, without stopping, they left London Town and started away northward.
+
+
+
+The Chase of Robin Hood
+
+SO ROBIN HOOD and the others left the archery range at Finsbury Fields,
+and, tarrying not, set forth straightway upon their homeward journey.
+It was well for them that they did so, for they had not gone more
+than three or four miles upon their way when six of the yeomen of
+the King's guard came bustling among the crowd that still lingered,
+seeking for Robin and his men, to seize upon them and make them prisoners.
+Truly, it was an ill-done thing in the King to break his promise,
+but it all came about through the Bishop of Hereford's doing,
+for thus it happened:
+
+After the King left the archery ground, he went straightway to his cabinet,
+and with him went the Bishop of Hereford and Sir Robert Lee;
+but the King said never a word to these two, but sat gnawing his
+nether lip, for his heart was galled within him by what had happened.
+At last the Bishop of Hereford spoke, in a low, sorrowful voice:
+"It is a sad thing, Your Majesty, that this knavish outlaw should be let
+to escape in this wise; for, let him but get back to Sherwood Forest
+safe and sound, and he may snap his fingers at king and king's men."
+
+At these words the King raised his eyes and looked grimly upon
+the Bishop.  "Sayst thou so?" quoth he.  "Now, I will show thee,
+in good time, how much thou dost err, for, when the forty days
+are past and gone, I will seize upon this thieving outlaw,
+if I have to tear down all of Sherwood to find him.
+Thinkest thou that the laws of the King of England are to be
+so evaded by one poor knave without friends or money?"
+
+Then the Bishop spoke again, in his soft, smooth voice:
+
+"Forgive my boldness, Your Majesty, and believe that I have nought
+but the good of England and Your Majesty's desirings at heart;
+but what would it boot though my gracious lord did root up every tree
+of Sherwood?  Are there not other places for Robin Hood's hiding?
+Cannock Chase is not far from Sherwood, and the great Forest of Arden
+is not far from Cannock Chase.  Beside these are many other woodlands
+in Nottingham and Derby, Lincoln and York, amid any of which
+Your Majesty might as well think to seize upon Robin Hood as to lay
+finger upon a rat among the dust and broken things of a garret.
+Nay, my gracious lord, if he doth once plant foot in the woodland,
+he is lost to the law forever."
+
+At these words the King tapped his fingertips upon the table beside
+him with vexation.  "What wouldst thou have me do, Bishop?" quoth he.
+"Didst thou not hear me pledge my word to the Queen?  Thy talk is
+as barren as the wind from the bellows upon dead coals."
+
+"Far be it from me," said the cunning Bishop, "to point the way
+to one so clear-sighted as Your Majesty; but, were I the King
+of England, I should look upon the matter in this wise:
+I have promised my Queen, let us say, that for forty days
+the cunningest rogue in all England shall have freedom
+to come and go; but, lo!  I find this outlaw in my grasp;
+shall I, then, foolishly cling to a promise so hastily given?
+Suppose that I had promised to do Her Majesty's bidding,
+whereupon she bade me to slay myself; should I, then, shut mine
+eyes and run blindly upon my sword?  Thus would I argue
+within myself.  Moreover, I would say unto myself, a woman knoweth
+nought of the great things appertaining to state government;
+and, likewise, I know a woman is ever prone to take up a fancy,
+even as she would pluck a daisy from the roadside, and then throw
+it away when the savor is gone; therefore, though she hath taken
+a fancy to this outlaw, it will soon wane away and be forgotten.
+As for me, I have the greatest villain in all England in my grasp;
+shall I, then, open my hand and let him slip betwixt my fingers?
+Thus, Your Majesty, would I say to myself, were I the King
+of England."  So the Bishop talked, and the King lent his
+ear to his evil counsel, until, after a while, he turned to
+Sir Robert Lee and bade him send six of the yeomen of the guard
+to take Robin Hood and his three men prisoners.
+
+Now Sir Robert Lee was a gentle and noble knight, and he felt grieved to
+the heart to see the King so break his promise; nevertheless, he said nothing,
+for he saw how bitterly the King was set against Robin Hood; but he did not
+send the yeomen of the guard at once, but went first to the Queen, and told
+her all that had passed, and bade her send word to Robin of his danger.
+This he did not for the well-being of Robin Hood, but because he would save
+his lord's honor if he could.  Thus it came about that when, after a while,
+the yeomen of the guard went to the archery field, they found not Robin
+and the others, and so got no cakes at that fair.
+
+The afternoon was already well-nigh gone when Robin Hood, Little John, Will,
+and Allan set forth upon their homeward way, trudging along merrily
+through the yellow slanting light, which speedily changed to rosy
+red as the sun sank low in the heavens.  The shadows grew long,
+and finally merged into the grayness of the mellow twilight.
+The dusty highway lay all white betwixt the dark hedgerows, and along it
+walked four fellows like four shadows, the pat of their feet sounding loud,
+and their voices, as they talked, ringing clear upon the silence of the air.
+The great round moon was floating breathlessly up in the eastern sky
+when they saw before them the twinkling lights of Barnet Town, some ten
+or twelve miles from London.  Down they walked through the stony streets
+and past the cosy houses with overhanging gables, before the doors
+of which sat the burghers and craftsmen in the mellow moonlight,
+with their families about them, and so came at last, on the other side
+of the hamlet, to a little inn, all shaded with roses and woodbines.
+Before this inn Robin Hood stopped, for the spot pleased him well.
+Quoth he, "Here will we take up our inn and rest for the night,
+for we are well away from London Town and our King's wrath.
+Moreover, if I mistake not, we will find sweet faring within.
+What say ye, lads?"
+
+"In sooth, good master," quoth Little John, "thy bidding
+and my doing ever fit together like cakes and ale.
+Let us in, I say also."
+
+Then up spake Will Scarlet:  "I am ever ready to do what thou sayest, uncle,
+yet I could wish that we were farther upon our way ere we rest for the night.
+Nevertheless, if thou thinkest best, let us in for the night, say I also."
+
+So in they went and called for the best that the place afforded.
+Then a right good feast was set before them, with two stout bottles
+of old sack to wash it down withal.  These things were served
+by as plump and buxom a lass as you could find in all the land,
+so that Little John, who always had an eye for a fair lass, even when
+meat and drink were by, stuck his arms akimbo and fixed his eyes
+upon her, winking sweetly whenever he saw her looking toward him.
+Then you should have seen how the lass twittered with laughter,
+and how she looked at Little John out of the corners of her eyes,
+a dimple coming in either cheek; for the fellow had always a taking
+way with the womenfolk.
+
+So the feast passed merrily, and never had that inn seen
+such lusty feeders as these four stout fellows; but at last
+they were done their eating, though it seemed as though they
+never would have ended, and sat loitering over the sack.
+As they so sat, the landlord came in of a sudden, and said
+that there was one at the door, a certain young esquire,
+Richard Partington, of the Queen's household, who wished to see
+the lad in blue, and speak with him, without loss of time.
+So Robin arose quickly, and, bidding the landlord not to follow him,
+left the others gazing at one another, and wondering what was
+about to happen.
+
+When Robin came out of the inn, he found young Richard Partington sitting
+upon his horse in the white moonlight, awaiting his coming.
+
+"What news bearest thou, Sir Page?" said Robin.  "I trust that it
+is not of an ill nature."
+
+"Why," said young Partington, "for the matter of that, it is ill enow.
+The King hath been bitterly stirred up against thee by that vile
+Bishop of Hereford.  He sent to arrest thee at the archery butts
+at Finsbury Fields, but not finding thee there, he hath gathered
+together his armed men, fiftyscore and more, and is sending them
+in haste along this very road to Sherwood, either to take thee
+on the way or to prevent thy getting back to the woodlands again.
+He hath given the Bishop of Hereford command over all these men,
+and thou knowest what thou hast to expect of the Bishop of Hereford--
+short shrift and a long rope.  Two bands of horsemen are already
+upon the road, not far behind me, so thou hadst best get thee
+gone from this place straightway, for, if thou tarriest longer,
+thou art like to sleep this night in a cold dungeon.
+This word the Queen hath bidden me bring to thee."
+
+"Now, Richard Partington," quoth Robin, "this is the second time
+that thou hast saved my life, and if the proper time ever cometh
+I will show thee that Robin Hood never forgets these things.
+As for that Bishop of Hereford, if I ever catch him nigh
+to Sherwood again, things will be like to go ill with him.
+Thou mayst tell the good Queen that I will leave this place without delay,
+and will let the landlord think that we are going to Saint Albans;
+but when we are upon the highroad again, I will go one way through
+the country and will send my men the other, so that if one falleth
+into the King's hands the others may haply escape.  We will go
+by devious ways, and so, I hope, will reach Sherwood in safety.
+And now, Sir Page, I wish thee farewell."
+
+"Farewell, thou bold yeoman," said young Partington, "and mayst
+thou reach thy hiding in safety."  So each shook the other's hand,
+and the lad, turning his horse's head, rode back toward London,
+while Robin entered the inn once more.
+
+There he found his yeomen sitting in silence, waiting his coming;
+likewise the landlord was there, for he was curious to know what
+Master Partington had to do with the fellow in blue.  "Up, my merry men!"
+quoth Robin, "this is no place for us, for those are after us with
+whom we will stand but an ill chance an we fall into their hands.
+So we will go forward once more, nor will we stop this night
+till we reach Saint Albans."  Hereupon, taking out his purse,
+he paid the landlord his score, and so they left the inn.
+
+When they had come to the highroad without the town, Robin stopped
+and told them all that had passed between young Partington and himself,
+and how that the King's men were after them with hot heels.
+Then he told them that here they should part company; they three going
+to the eastward and he to the westward, and so, skirting the main highroads,
+would come by devious paths to Sherwood.  "So, be ye wily,"
+said Robin Hood, "and keep well away from the northward roads till
+ye have gotten well to the eastward.  And thou, Will Scarlet,
+take the lead of the others, for thou hast a cunning turn to thy wits."
+Then Robin kissed the three upon the cheeks, and they kissed him,
+and so they parted company.
+
+Not long after this, a score or more of the King's men came clattering
+up to the door of the inn at Barnet Town.  Here they leaped from
+their horses and quickly surrounded the place, the leader of the band
+and four others entering the room where the yeomen had been.
+But they found that their birds had flown again, and that the King
+had been balked a second time.
+
+"Methought that they were naughty fellows," said the host, when he heard
+whom the men-at-arms sought.  "But I heard that blue-clad knave say that
+they would go straight forward to Saint Albans; so, an ye hurry forward,
+ye may, perchance, catch them on the highroad betwixt here and there."
+For this news the leader of the band thanked mine host right heartily, and,
+calling his men together, mounted and set forth again, galloping forward
+to Saint Albans upon a wild goose chase.
+
+After Little John and Will Scarlet and Allan a Dale had left
+the highway near garnet, they traveled toward the eastward,
+without stopping, as long as their legs could carry them, until they
+came to Chelmsford, in Essex.  Thence they turned northward,
+and came through Cambridge and Lincolnshire, to the good town
+of Gainsborough.  Then, striking to the westward and the south,
+they came at last to the northern borders of Sherwood Forest,
+without in all that time having met so much as a single band
+of the King's men.  Eight days they journeyed thus ere they reached
+the woodlands in safety, but when they got to the greenwood glade,
+they found that Robin had not yet returned.
+
+For Robin was not as lucky in getting back as his men had been,
+as you shall presently hear.
+
+After having left the great northern road, he turned his face
+to the westward, and so came past Aylesbury, to fair Woodstock,
+in Oxfordshire.  Thence he turned his footsteps northward,
+traveling for a great distance by way of Warwick Town,
+till he came to Dudley, in Staffordshire.  Seven days it took
+him to journey thus far, and then he thought he had gotten
+far enough to the north, so, turning toward the eastward,
+shunning the main roads, and choosing byways and grassy lanes,
+he went, by way of Litchfield and Ashby de la Zouch, toward Sherwood,
+until he came to a place called Stanton.  And now Robin's
+heart began to laugh aloud, for he thought that his danger
+had gone by, and that his nostrils would soon snuff the spicy
+air of the woodlands once again.  But there is many a slip
+betwixt the cup and the lip, and this Robin was to find.
+For thus it was:
+
+When the King's men found themselves foiled at Saint Albans,
+and that Robin and his men were not to be found high nor low,
+they knew not what to do.  Presently another band of horsemen came,
+and another, until all the moonlit streets were full of armed men.
+Betwixt midnight and dawn another band came to the town,
+and with them came the Bishop of Hereford.  When he heard
+that Robin Hood had once more slipped out of the trap, he stayed
+not a minute, but, gathering his bands together, he pushed forward
+to the northward with speed, leaving orders for all the troops
+that came to Saint Albans to follow after him without tarrying.
+On the evening of the fourth day he reached Nottingham Town,
+and there straightway divided his men into bands of six or seven,
+and sent them all through the countryside, blocking every highway
+and byway to the eastward and the southward and the westward
+of Sherwood.  The Sheriff of Nottingham called forth all his
+men likewise, and joined with the Bishop, for he saw that this
+was the best chance that had ever befallen of paying back
+his score in full to Robin Hood.  Will Scarlet and Little John
+and Allan a Dale had just missed the King's men to the eastward,
+for the very next day after they had passed the line and entered
+Sherwood the roads through which they had traveled were blocked,
+so that, had they tarried in their journeying, they would surely
+have fallen into the Bishop's hands.
+
+But of all this Robin knew not a whit; so he whistled merrily
+as he trudged along the road beyond Stanton, with his heart as free
+from care as the yolk of an egg is from cobwebs.  At last he came
+to where a little stream spread across the road in a shallow sheet,
+tinkling and sparkling as it fretted over its bed of golden gravel.
+Here Robin stopped, being athirst, and, kneeling down,
+he made a cup of the palms of his hands, and began to drink.
+On either side of the road, for a long distance, stood tangled
+thickets of bushes and young trees, and it pleased Robin's heart
+to hear the little birds singing therein, for it made him think
+of Sherwood, and it seemed as though it had been a lifetime
+since he had breathed the air of the woodlands.  But of a sudden,
+as he thus stooped, drinking, something hissed past his ear,
+and struck with a splash into the gravel and water beside him.
+Quick as a wink Robin sprang to his feet, and, at one bound,
+crossed the stream and the roadside, and plunged headlong into
+the thicket, without looking around, for he knew right well that
+that which had hissed so venomously beside his ear was a gray
+goose shaft, and that to tarry so much as a moment meant death.
+Even as he leaped into the thicket six more arrows rattled
+among the branches after him, one of which pierced his doublet,
+and would have struck deeply into his side but for the tough
+coat of steel that he wore.  Then up the road came riding some
+of the King's men at headlong speed.  They leaped from their horses
+and plunged straightway into the thicket after Robin.  But Robin
+knew the ground better than they did, so crawling here,
+stooping there, and, anon, running across some little open,
+he soon left them far behind, coming out, at last, upon another
+road about eight hundred paces distant from the one he had left.
+Here he stood for a moment, listening to the distant shouts of
+the seven men as they beat up and down in the thickets like hounds
+that had lost the scent of the quarry.  Then, buckling his belt
+more tightly around his waist, he ran fleetly down the road toward
+the eastward and Sherwood.
+
+But Robin had not gone more than three furlongs in that direction
+when he came suddenly to the brow of a hill, and saw beneath
+him another band of the King's men seated in the shade along
+the roadside in the valley beneath.  Then he paused not
+a moment, but, seeing that they had not caught sight of him,
+he turned and ran back whence he had come, knowing that it was
+better to run the chance of escaping those fellows that were yet
+in the thickets than to rush into the arms of those in the valley.
+So back he ran with all speed, and had gotten safely past
+the thickets, when the seven men came forth into the open road.
+They raised a great shout when they saw him, such as the hunter gives
+when the deer breaks cover, but Robin was then a quarter of a mile
+and more away from them, coursing over the ground like a greyhound.
+He never slackened his pace, but ran along, mile after mile,
+till he had come
+
+
+
+
+nigh to Mackworth, over beyond the Derwent River, nigh to
+Derby Town.  Here, seeing that he was out of present danger,
+he slackened in his running, and at last sat him down beneath a hedge
+where the grass was the longest and the shade the coolest, there to
+rest and catch his wind.  "By my soul, Robin," quoth he to himself,
+"that was the narrowest miss that e'er thou hadst in all thy life.
+I do say most solemnly that the feather of that wicked shaft
+tickled mine ear as it whizzed past.  This same running hath
+given me a most craving appetite for victuals and drink.
+Now I pray Saint Dunstan that he send me speedily some meat and beer."
+
+It seemed as though Saint Dunstan was like to answer his prayer,
+for along the road came plodding a certain cobbler, one Quince,
+of Derby, who had been to take a pair of shoes to a farmer nigh
+Kirk Langly, and was now coming back home again, with a fair boiled
+capon in his pouch and a stout pottle of beer by his side, which same
+the farmer had given him for joy of such a stout pair of shoon.
+Good Quince was an honest fellow, but his wits were somewhat of
+the heavy sort, like unbaked dough, so that the only thing that was
+in his mind was, "Three shillings sixpence ha'penny for thy shoon,
+good Quince--three shillings sixpence ha'penny for thy shoon,"
+and this traveled round and round inside of his head, without another
+thought getting into his noddle, as a pea rolls round and round
+inside an empty quart pot.
+
+"Halloa, good friend," quoth Robin, from beneath the hedge,
+when the other had gotten nigh enough, "whither away so merrily
+this bright day?"
+
+Hearing himself so called upon, the Cobbler stopped, and, seeing a
+well-clad stranger in blue, he spoke to him in seemly wise.
+"Give ye good den, fair sir, and I would say that I come
+from Kirk Langly, where I ha' sold my shoon and got three
+shillings sixpence ha'penny for them in as sweet money as ever
+thou sawest, and honestly earned too, I would ha' thee know.
+But an I may be so bold, thou pretty fellow, what dost thou
+there beneath the hedge?"
+
+"Marry," quoth merry Robin, "I sit beneath the hedge here to drop salt
+on the tails of golden birds; but in sooth thou art the first chick
+of any worth I ha' seen this blessed day."
+
+At these words the Cobbler's eyes opened big and wide, and his
+mouth grew round with wonder, like a knothole in a board fence.
+"slack-a-day," quoth he, "look ye, now!  I ha' never seen those same
+golden birds.  And dost thou in sooth find them in these hedges,
+good fellow?  Prythee, tell me, are there many of them?
+I would fain find them mine own self."
+
+"Ay, truly," quoth Robin, "they are as thick here as fresh herring
+in Cannock Chase."
+
+"Look ye, now!" said the Cobbler, all drowned in wonder.
+"And dost thou in sooth catch them by dropping salt on
+their pretty tails?"
+
+"Yea," quoth Robin, "but this salt is of an odd kind, let me
+tell thee, for it can only be gotten by boiling down a quart
+of moonbeams in a wooden platter, and then one hath but a pinch.
+But tell me, now, thou witty man, what hast thou gotten there
+in that pouch by thy side and in that pottle?"
+
+At these words the Cobbler looked down at those things of which merry
+Robin spoke, for the thoughts of the golden bird had driven them
+from his mind, and it took him some time to scrape the memory of them
+back again.  "Why," said he at last, "in the one is good March beer,
+and in the other is a fat capon.  Truly, Quince the Cobbler will ha'
+a fine feast this day an I mistake not."
+
+"But tell me, good Quince," said Robin, "hast thou a mind to sell those things
+to me?  For the hearing of them sounds sweet in mine ears.  I will give
+thee these gay clothes of blue that I have upon my body and ten shillings
+to boot for thy clothes and thy leather apron and thy beer and thy capon.
+What sayst thou, bully boy?"
+
+"Nay, thou dost jest with me," said the Cobbler, "for my clothes are coarse
+and patched, and thine are of fine stuff and very pretty."
+
+"Never a jest do I speak," quoth Robin.  "Come, strip thy jacket
+off and I will show thee, for I tell thee I like thy clothes well.
+Moreover, I will be kind to thee, for I will feast straightway
+upon the good things thou hast with thee, and thou shalt be bidden
+to the eating."  At these words he began slipping off his doublet,
+and the Cobbler, seeing him so in earnest, began pulling off
+his clothes also, for Robin Hood's garb tickled his eye.
+So each put on the other fellow's clothes, and Robin gave the honest
+Cobbler ten bright new shillings.  Quoth merry Robin, "I ha'
+been a many things in my life before, but never have I been
+an honest cobbler.  Come, friend, let us fall to and eat,
+for something within me cackles aloud for that good fat capon."
+So both sat down and began to feast right lustily, so that when they
+were done the bones of the capon were picked as bare as charity.
+
+Then Robin stretched his legs out with a sweet feeling of comfort within him.
+Quoth he, "By the turn of thy voice, good Quince, I know that thou hast
+a fair song or two running loose in thy head like colts in a meadow.
+I prythee, turn one of them out for me."
+
+"A song or two I ha'," quoth the Cobbler, "poor things, poor things,
+but such as they are thou art welcome to one of them."
+So, moistening his throat with a swallow of beer, he sang:
+
+ "_Of all the joys, the best I love,
+     Sing hey my frisking Nan, O,
+ And that which most my soul doth move,
+     It is the clinking can, O.
+
+ "All other bliss I'd throw away,
+     Sing hey my frisking Nan, O,
+ But this_--"
+
+
+The stout Cobbler got no further in his song, for of a sudden
+six horsemen burst upon them where they sat, and seized
+roughly upon the honest craftsman, hauling him to his feet,
+and nearly plucking the clothes from him as they did so.
+"Ha!" roared the leader of the band in a great big voice of joy,
+"have we then caught thee at last, thou blue-clad knave?
+Now, blessed be the name of Saint Hubert, for we are fourscore
+pounds richer this minute than we were before, for the good Bishop
+of Hereford hath promised that much to the band that shall
+bring thee to him.  Oho! thou cunning rascal! thou wouldst
+look so innocent, forsooth!  We know thee, thou old fox.
+But off thou goest with us to have thy brush clipped forthwith."
+At these words the poor Cobbler gazed all around him
+with his great blue eyes as round as those of a dead fish,
+while his mouth gaped as though he had swallowed all his words
+and so lost his speech.
+
+Robin also gaped and stared in a wondering way, just as the Cobbler
+would have done in his place.  "Alack-a-daisy, me," quoth he.
+"I know not whether I be sitting here or in No-man's-land! What
+meaneth all this stir i' th' pot, dear good gentlemen?
+Surely this is a sweet, honest fellow."
+
+" `Honest fellow,' sayst thou, clown?" quoth one of the men "Why, I
+tell thee that this is that same rogue that men call Robin Hood."
+
+At this speech the Cobbler stared and gaped more than ever,
+for there was such a threshing of thoughts going on
+
+
+
+
+within his poor head that his wits were all befogged with the dust
+and chaff thereof.  Moreover, as he looked at Robin Hood, and saw
+the yeoman look so like what he knew himself to be, he began to doubt
+and to think that mayhap he was the great outlaw in real sooth.
+Said he in a slow, wondering voice, "Am I in very truth that fellow?--
+Now I had thought--but nay, Quince, thou art mistook--yet--am I?--Nay, I must
+indeed be Robin Hood!  Yet, truly, I had never thought to pass from
+an honest craftsman to such a great yeoman."
+
+"Alas!" quoth Robin Hood, "look ye there, now!  See how your ill-treatment
+hath curdled the wits of this poor lad and turned them all sour!
+I, myself, am Quince, the Cobbler of Derby Town."
+
+"Is it so?" said Quince.  "Then, indeed, I am somebody else, and can be none
+other than Robin Hood.  Take me, fellows; but let me tell you that ye ha'
+laid hand upon the stoutest yeoman that ever trod the woodlands."
+
+"Thou wilt play madman, wilt thou?" said the leader of the band.
+"Here, Giles, fetch a cord and bind this knave's hands behind him.
+I warrant we will bring his wits back to him again when we get
+him safe before our good Bishop at Tutbury Town."  Thereupon they
+tied the Cobbler's hands behind him, and led him off with a rope,
+as the farmer leads off the calf he hath brought from the fair.
+Robin stood looking after them, and when they were gone he laughed
+till the tears rolled down his cheeks; for he knew that no harm
+would befall the honest fellow, and he pictured to himself
+the Bishop's face when good Quince was brought before him as
+Robin Hood.  Then, turning his steps once more to the eastward,
+he stepped out right foot foremost toward Nottinghamshire
+and Sherwood Forest.
+
+But Robin Hood had gone through more than he wotted of.
+His journey from London had been hard and long, and in a se'ennight
+he had traveled sevenscore and more of miles.  He thought now to
+travel on without stopping until he had come to Sherwood, but ere
+he had gone a half a score of miles he felt his strength giving way
+beneath him like a river bank which the waters have undermined.
+He sat him down and rested, but he knew within himself that
+he could go no farther that day, for his feet felt like lumps
+of lead, so heavy were they with weariness.  Once more he arose
+and went forward, but after traveling a couple of miles he was
+fain to give the matter up, so, coming to an inn just then,
+he entered and calling the landlord, bade him show him to a room,
+although the sun was only then just sinking in the western sky.
+There were but three bedrooms in the place, and to the meanest
+of these the landlord showed Robin Hood, but little Robin cared
+for the looks of the place, for he could have slept that night
+upon a bed of broken stones.  So, stripping off his clothes
+without more ado, he rolled into the bed and was asleep almost
+ere his head touched the pillow.
+
+Not long after Robin had so gone to his rest a great cloud peeped
+blackly over the hills to the westward.  Higher and higher it arose
+until it piled up into the night like a mountain of darkness.
+All around beneath it came ever and anon a dull red flash,
+and presently a short grim mutter of the coming thunder was heard.
+Then up rode four stout burghers of Nottingham Town, for this was
+the only inn within five miles' distance, and they did not care to be
+caught in such a thunderstorm as this that was coming upon them.
+Leaving their nags to the stableman, they entered the best room
+of the inn, where fresh green rushes lay all spread upon the floor,
+and there called for the goodliest fare that the place afforded.
+After having eaten heartily they bade the landlord show them to their rooms,
+for they were aweary, having ridden all the way from Dronfield that day.
+So off they went, grumbling at having to sleep two in a bed,
+but their troubles on this score, as well as all others, were soon
+lost in the quietness of sleep.
+
+And now came the first gust of wind, rushing past the place,
+clapping and banging the doors and shutters, smelling of the
+coming rain, and all wrapped in a cloud of dust and leaves.
+As though the wind had brought a guest along with it, the door
+opened of a sudden and in came a friar of Emmet Priory, and one
+in high degree, as was shown by the softness and sleekness of his
+robes and the richness of his rosary.  He called to the landlord,
+and bade him first have his mule well fed and bedded in the stable,
+and then to bring him the very best there was in the house.
+So presently a savory stew of tripe and onions, with sweet little
+fat dumplings, was set before him, likewise a good stout pottle
+of Malmsey, and straightway the holy friar fell to with great
+courage and heartiness, so that in a short time nought was
+left but a little pool of gravy in the center of the platter,
+not large enow to keep the life in a starving mouse.
+
+In the meantime the storm broke.  Another gust of wind went rushing by,
+and with it fell a few heavy drops of rain, which presently came rattling
+down in showers, beating against the casements like a hundred little hands.
+Bright flashes of lightning lit up every raindrop, and with them came cracks
+of thunder that went away rumbling and bumping as though Saint Swithin
+were busy rolling great casks of water across rough ground overhead.
+The womenfolks screamed, and the merry wags in the taproom put their arms
+around their waists to soothe them into quietness.
+
+At last the holy friar bade the landlord show him to his room;
+but when he heard that he was to bed with a cobbler, he was as ill
+contented a fellow as you could find in all England, nevertheless there
+was nothing for it, and he must sleep there or nowhere; so, taking up
+his candle, he went off, grumbling like the now distant thunder.
+When he came to the room where he was to sleep he held the light
+over Robin and looked at him from top to toe; then he felt
+better pleased, for, instead, of a rough, dirty-bearded fellow,
+he beheld as fresh and clean a lad as one could find in a week
+of Sundays; so, slipping off his clothes, he also huddled into the bed,
+where Robin, grunting and grumbling in his sleep, made room for him.
+Robin was more sound asleep, I wot, than he had been for many a day,
+else he would never have rested so quietly with one of the friar's sort
+so close beside him.  As for the friar, had he known who Robin Hood was,
+you may well believe he would almost as soon have slept with an adder
+as with the man he had for a bedfellow.
+
+So the night passed comfortably enough, but at the first dawn
+of day Robin opened his eyes and turned his head upon the pillow.
+Then how he gaped and how he stared, for there beside him lay one all shaven
+and shorn, so that he knew that it must be a fellow in holy orders.
+He pinched himself sharply, but, finding he was awake, sat up in bed,
+while the other slumbered as peacefully as though he were safe
+and sound at home in Emmet Priory.  "Now," quoth Robin to himself,
+"I wonder how this thing hath dropped into my bed during the night."
+So saying, he arose softly, so as not to waken the other, and looking
+about the room he espied the friar's clothes lying upon a bench near
+the wall.  First he looked at the clothes, with his head on one side,
+and then he looked at the friar and slowly winked one eye.
+Quoth he, "Good Brother What-e'er-thy-name-may-be, as thou hast
+borrowed my bed so freely I'll e'en borrow thy clothes in return."
+So saying, he straightway donned the holy man's garb, but kindly left
+the cobbler's clothes in the place of it.  Then he went forth into
+the freshness of the morning, and the stableman that was up and about
+the stables opened his eyes as though he saw a green mouse before him,
+for such men as the friars of Emmet were not wont to be early risers;
+but the man bottled his thoughts, and only asked Robin whether
+he wanted his mule brought from the stable.
+
+"Yea, my son," quoth Robin--albeit he knew nought of the mule--"and
+bring it forth quickly, I prythee, for I am late and must be jogging."
+So presently the stableman brought forth the mule, and Robin mounted
+it and went on his way rejoicing.
+
+As for the holy friar, when he arose he was in as pretty a stew
+as any man in all the world, for his rich, soft robes were gone,
+likewise his purse with ten golden pounds in it, and nought was left
+but patched clothes and a leathern apron.  He raged and swore like
+any layman, but as his swearing mended nothing and the landlord could
+not aid him, and as, moreover, he was forced to be at Emmet Priory
+that very morning upon matters of business, he was fain either
+to don the cobbler's clothes or travel the road in nakedness.
+So he put on the clothes, and, still raging and swearing vengeance
+against all the cobblers in Derbyshire, he set forth upon his way afoot;
+but his ills had not yet done with him, for he had not gone far
+ere he fell into the hands of the King's men, who marched him off,
+willy-nilly, to Tutbury Town and the Bishop of Hereford.  In vain
+he swore he was a holy man, and showed his shaven crown; off he must go,
+for nothing would do but that he was Robin Hood.
+
+Meanwhile merry Robin rode along contentedly, passing safely by two
+bands of the King's men, until his heart began to dance within him
+because of the nearness of Sherwood; so he traveled ever on to
+the eastward, till, of a sudden, he met a noble knight in a shady lane.
+Then Robin checked his mule quickly and leaped from off its back.
+"Now, well met, Sir Richard of the Lea," cried he, "for rather
+than any other man in England would I see thy good face this day!"
+Then he told Sir Richard all the happenings that had befallen him, and that
+now at last he felt himself safe, being so nigh to Sherwood again.
+But when Robin had done, Sir Richard shook his head sadly.
+"Thou art in greater danger now, Robin, than thou hast yet been,"
+said he, "for before thee lie bands of the Sheriff's men blocking
+every road and letting none pass through the lines without examining
+them closely.  I myself know this, having passed them but now.
+Before thee lie the Sheriffs men and behind thee the King's men,
+and thou canst not hope to pass either way, for by this time they
+will know of thy disguise and will be in waiting to seize upon thee.
+My castle and everything within it are thine, but nought could be
+gained there, for I could not hope to hold it against such a force
+as is now in Nottingham of the King's and the Sheriffs men."
+Having so spoken, Sir Richard bent his head in thought, and Robin
+felt his heart sink within him like that of the fox that hears
+the hounds at his heels and finds his den blocked with earth
+so that there is no hiding for him.  But presently Sir Richard
+spoke again, saying, "One thing thou canst do, Robin, and one only.
+Go back to London and throw thyself upon the mercy of our
+good Queen Eleanor.  Come with me straightway to my castle.
+Doff these clothes and put on such as my retainers wear.
+Then I will hie me to London Town with a troop of men behind me,
+and thou shalt mingle with them, and thus will I bring thee
+to where thou mayst see and speak with the Queen.  Thy only hope
+is to get to Sherwood, for there none can reach thee, and thou wilt
+never get to Sherwood but in this way."
+
+So Robin went with Sir Richard of the Lea, and did as he said,
+for he saw the wisdom of that which the knight advised,
+and that this was his only chance of safety.
+
+
+Queen Eleanor walked in her royal garden, amid the roses that
+bloomed sweetly, and with her walked six of her ladies-in-waiting,
+chattering blithely together.  Of a sudden a man leaped
+up to the top of the wall from the other side, and then,
+hanging for a moment, dropped lightly upon the grass within.
+All the ladies-in-waiting shrieked at the suddenness of his coming,
+but the man ran to the Queen and kneeled at her feet, and she
+saw that it was Robin Hood.
+
+"Why, how now, Robin!" cried she, "dost thou dare to come
+into the very jaws of the raging lion?  Alas, poor fellow!
+Thou art lost indeed if the King finds thee here.
+Dost thou not know that he is seeking thee through all the land?"
+
+"Yea," quoth Robin, "I do know right well that the King seeks me,
+and therefore I have come; for, surely, no ill can befall me
+when he hath pledged his royal word to Your Majesty for my safety.
+Moreover, I know Your Majesty's kindness and gentleness of heart,
+and so I lay my life freely in your gracious hands."
+
+"I take thy meaning, Robin Hood," said the Queen, "and that
+thou dost convey reproach to me, as well thou mayst, for I
+know that I have not done by thee as I ought to have done.
+I know right well that thou must have been hard pressed
+by peril to leap so boldly into one danger to escape another.
+Once more I promise thee mine aid, and will do all I can to send thee
+back in safety to Sherwood Forest.  Bide thou here till I return."
+So saying, she left Robin in the garden of roses, and was gone
+a long time.
+
+When she came back Sir Robert Lee was with her, and the Queen's cheeks
+were hot and the Queen's eyes were bright, as though she had been
+talking with high words.  Then Sir Robert came straight forward to where
+Robin Hood stood, and he spoke to the yeoman in a cold, stern voice.
+Quoth he, "Our gracious Sovereign the King hath mitigated his wrath
+toward thee, fellow, and hath once more promised that thou shalt depart
+in peace and safety.  Not only hath he promised this, but in three days
+he will send one of his pages to go with thee and see that none
+arrest thy journey back again.  Thou mayst thank thy patron saint
+that thou hast such a good friend in our noble Queen, for, but for her
+persuasion and arguments, thou hadst been a dead man, I can tell thee.
+Let this peril that thou hast passed through teach thee two lessons.
+First, be more honest.  Second, be not so bold in thy comings and goings.
+A man that walketh in the darkness as thou dost may escape for a time,
+but in the end he will surely fall into the pit.  Thou hast put thy head
+in the angry lion's mouth, and yet thou hast escaped by a miracle.
+Try it not again."  So saying, he turned and left Robin and was gone.
+
+For three days Robin abided in London in the Queen's household,
+and at the end of that time the King's head Page, Edward Cunningham,
+came, and taking Robin with him, departed northward upon his way
+to Sherwood.  Now and then they passed bands of the King's men
+coming back again to London, but none of those bands stopped them,
+and so, at last, they reached the sweet, leafy woodlands.
+
+
+
+Robin Hood and Guy of Gisbourne
+
+A LONG TIME passed after the great shooting match, and during
+that time Robin followed one part of the advice of Sir Robert Lee,
+to wit, that of being less bold in his comings and his goings;
+for though mayhap he may not have been more honest (as most folks
+regard honesty), he took good care not to travel so far from
+Sherwood that he could not reach it both easily and quickly.
+
+Great changes had fallen in this time; for King Henry had died
+and King Richard had come to the crown that fitted him so well
+through many hard trials, and through adventures as stirring
+as any that ever befell Robin Hood.  But though great changes came,
+they did not reach to Sherwood's shades, for there Robin Hood
+and his men dwelled as merrily as they had ever done,
+with hunting and feasting and singing and blithe woodland sports;
+for it was little the outside striving of the world troubled them.
+
+The dawning of a summer's day was fresh and bright,
+and the birds sang sweetly in a great tumult of sound.
+So loud was their singing that it awakened Robin Hood where
+he lay sleeping, so that he stirred, and turned, and arose.
+Up rose Little John also, and all the merry men; then, after they
+had broken their fast, they set forth hither and thither upon
+the doings of the day.
+
+Robin Hood and Little John walked down a forest path where
+all around the leaves danced and twinkled as the breeze
+trembled through them and the sunlight came flickering down.
+Quoth Robin Hood, "I make my vow, Little John, my blood
+tickles my veins as it flows through them this gay morn.
+What sayst thou to our seeking adventures, each one upon
+his own account?"
+
+"With all my heart," said Little John.  "We have had
+more than one pleasant doing in that way, good master.
+Here are two paths; take thou the one to the right hand,
+and I will take the one to the left, and then let us each walk
+straight ahead till he tumble into some merry doing or other."
+
+"I like thy plan," quoth Robin, "therefore we will part here.
+But look thee, Little John, keep thyself out of mischief,
+for I would not have ill befall thee for all the world."
+
+"Marry, come up," quoth Little John, "how thou talkest!
+Methinks thou art wont to get thyself into tighter coils than I
+am like to do."
+
+At this Robin Hood laughed.  "Why, in sooth, Little John,"
+said he, "thou hast a blundering hard-headed way that seemeth
+to bring thee right side uppermost in all thy troubles;
+but let us see who cometh out best this day."  So saying,
+he clapped his palm to Little John's and each departed upon his way,
+the trees quickly shutting the one from the other's sight.
+
+Robin Hood strolled onward till he came to where a broad woodland road
+stretched before him.  Overhead the branches of the trees laced together
+in flickering foliage, all golden where it grew thin to the sunlight;
+beneath his feet the ground was soft and moist from the sheltering shade.
+Here in this pleasant spot the sharpest adventure that ever befell Robin Hood
+came upon him; for, as he walked down the woodland path thinking of nought
+but the songs of the birds, he came of a sudden to where a man was seated
+upon the mossy roots beneath the shade of a broad-spreading oak tree.
+Robin Hood saw that the stranger had not caught sight of him,
+so he stopped and stood quite still, looking at the other a long time
+before he came forward.  And the stranger, I wot, was well worth looking at,
+for never had Robin seen a figure like that sitting beneath the tree.
+From his head to his feet he was clad in a horse's hide, dressed with
+the hair upon it.  Upon his head was a cowl that hid his face
+from sight, and which was made of the horse's skin, the ears whereof
+stuck up like those of a rabbit.  His body was clad in a jacket made
+of the hide, and his legs were covered with the hairy skin likewise.
+By his side was a heavy broadsword and a sharp, double-edged dagger.
+A quiver of smooth round arrows hung across his shoulders, and his stout
+bow of yew leaned against the tree beside him.
+
+"Halloa, friend," cried Robin, coming forward at last, "who art thou
+that sittest there?  And what is that that thou hast upon thy body?
+I make my vow I ha' never seen such a sight in all my life before.
+Had I done an evil thing, or did my conscience trouble me, I would
+be afraid of thee, thinking that thou wast someone from down below
+bringing a message bidding me come straightway to King Nicholas."
+
+To this speech the other answered not a word, but he pushed
+the cowl back from his head and showed a knit brow, a hooked nose,
+and a pair of fierce, restless black eyes, which altogether made
+Robin think of a hawk as he looked on his face.  But beside this
+there was something about the lines on the stranger's face,
+and his thin cruel mouth, and the hard glare of his eyes,
+that made one's flesh creep to look upon.
+
+"Who art thou, rascal?" said he at last, in a loud, harsh voice.
+
+"Tut, tut," quoth merry Robin, "speak not so sourly, brother.
+Hast thou fed upon vinegar and nettles this morning that thy
+speech is so stinging?"
+
+"An thou likest not my words," said the other fiercely, "thou hadst
+best be jogging, for I tell thee plainly, my deeds match them."
+
+"Nay, but I do like thy words, thou sweet, pretty thing,"
+quoth Robin, squatting down upon the grass in front of the other.
+"Moreover, I tell thee thy speech is witty and gamesome as any I
+ever heard in all my life."
+
+The other said not a word, but he glared upon Robin with a wicked and baleful
+look, such as a fierce dog bestows upon a man ere it springs at his throat.
+Robin returned the gaze with one of wide-eyed innocence, not a shadow
+of a smile twinkling in his eyes or twitching at the corners of his mouth.
+So they sat staring at one another for a long time, until the stranger broke
+the silence suddenly.  "What is thy name, fellow?" said he.
+
+"Now," quoth Robin, "I am right glad to hear thee speak,
+for I began to fear the sight of me had stricken thee dumb.
+As for my name, it may be this or it may be that; but methinks
+it is more meet for thee to tell me thine, seeing that thou art
+the greater stranger in these parts.  Prythee, tell me, sweet chuck,
+why wearest thou that dainty garb upon thy pretty body?"
+At these words the other broke into a short, harsh roar of laughter.
+"By the bones of the Daemon Odin," said he, "thou art
+the boldest-spoken man that ever I have seen in all my life.
+I know not why I do not smite thee down where thou sittest,
+for only two days ago I skewered a man over back of Nottingham Town
+for saying not half so much to me as thou hast done.
+I wear this garb, thou fool, to keep my body warm;
+likewise it is near as good as a coat of steel against a common
+sword-thrust. As for my name, I care not who knoweth it.
+It is Guy of Gisbourne, and thou mayst have heard it before.
+I come from the woodlands over in Herefordshire, upon the lands
+of the Bishop of that ilk.  I am an outlaw, and get my living
+by hook and by crook in a manner it boots not now to tell of.
+Not long since the Bishop sent for me, and said that if I would
+do a certain thing that the Sheriff of Nottingham would ask of me,
+he would get me a free pardon, and give me tenscore pounds to boot.
+So straightway I came to Nottingham Town and found my
+sweet Sheriff; and what thinkest thou he wanted of me?
+Why, forsooth, to come here to Sherwood to hunt up one
+Robin Hood, also an outlaw, and to take him alive or dead.
+It seemeth that they have no one here to face that bold fellow,
+and so sent all the way to Herefordshire, and to me, for thou
+knowest the old saying, `Set a thief to catch a thief.'
+As for the slaying of this fellow, it galleth me not a whit,
+for I would shed the blood of my own brother for the half
+of two hundred pounds."
+
+To all this Robin listened, and as he listened his gorge rose.
+Well he knew of this Guy of Gisbourne, and of all the bloody and
+murderous deeds that he had done in Herefordshire, for his doings
+were famous throughout all the land.  Yet, although he loathed
+the very presence of the man, he held his peace, for he had an end
+to serve.  "Truly," quoth he, "I have heard of thy gentle doings.
+Methinks there is no one in all the world that Robin Hood would
+rather meet than thee."
+
+At this Guy of Gisbourne gave another harsh laugh.  "Why," quoth he,
+"it is a merry thing to think of one stout outlaw like Robin Hood
+meeting another stout outlaw like Guy of Gisbourne.  Only in this
+case it will be an ill happening for Robin Hood, for the day he meets
+Guy of Gisbourne he shall die."
+
+"But thou gentle, merry spirit," quoth Robin, "dost thou not think
+that mayhap this same Robin Hood may be the better man of the two?
+I know him right well, and many think that he is one of the
+stoutest men hereabouts."
+
+"He may be the stoutest of men hereabouts," quoth Guy of Gisbourne,
+"yet, I tell thee, fellow, this sty of yours is not the wide world.
+I lay my life upon it I am the better man of the two.
+He an outlaw, forsooth!  Why, I hear that he hath never let
+blood in all his life, saving when he first came to the forest.
+Some call him a great archer; marry, I would not be afraid to stand
+against him all the days of the year with a bow in my hand."
+
+"Why, truly, some folk do call him a great archer," said Robin Hood,
+"but we of Nottinghamshire are famous hands with the longbow.
+Even I, though but a simple hand at the craft, would not fear to try
+a bout with thee."
+
+At these words Guy of Gisbourne looked upon Robin with wondering eyes,
+and then gave another roar of laughter till the woods rang.
+"Now," quoth he, "thou art a bold fellow to talk to me in this way.
+I like thy spirit in so speaking up to me, for few men have dared to do so.
+Put up a garland, lad, and I will try a bout with thee."
+
+"Tut, tut," quoth Robin, "only babes shoot at garlands hereabouts.
+I will put up a good Nottingham mark for thee."
+So saying, he arose, and going to a hazel thicket not far off,
+he cut a wand about twice the thickness of a man's thumb.
+From this he peeled the bark, and, sharpening the point,
+stuck it up in the ground in front of a great oak tree.
+Thence he measured off fourscore paces, which brought him
+beside the tree where the other sat.  "There," quoth he,
+"is the kind of mark that Nottingham yeomen shoot at.
+Now let me see thee split that wand if thou art an archer."
+
+Then Guy of Gisbourne arose.  "Now out upon it!" cried he.
+"The Devil himself could not hit such a mark as that."
+
+"Mayhap he could and mayhap he could not," quoth merry Robin,
+"but that we shall never know till thou hast shot thereat."
+
+At these words Guy of Gisbourne looked upon Robin with knit brows,
+but, as the yeoman still looked innocent of any ill meaning,
+he bottled his words and strung his bow in silence.  Twice he shot,
+but neither time did he hit the wand, missing it the first time by a span
+and the second time by a good palm's-breadth. Robin laughed and laughed.
+"I see now," quoth he, "that the Devil himself could not hit that mark.
+Good fellow, if thou art no better with the broadsword than thou art
+with the bow and arrow, thou wilt never overcome Robin Hood."
+
+At these words Guy of Gisbourne glared savagely upon Robin.  Quoth he,
+"Thou hast a merry tongue, thou villain; but take care that thou makest
+not too free with it, or I may cut it out from thy throat for thee."
+
+Robin Hood strung his bow and took his place with never a word,
+albeit his heartstrings quivered with anger and loathing.
+Twice he shot, the first time hitting within an inch of
+the wand, the second time splitting it fairly in the middle.
+Then, without giving the other a chance for speech, he flung his bow
+upon the ground.  "There, thou bloody villain!" cried he fiercely,
+"let that show thee how little thou knowest of manly sports.
+And now look thy last upon the daylight, for the good earth
+hath been befouled long enough by thee, thou vile beast!
+This day, Our Lady willing, thou diest--I am Robin Hood."  So saying,
+he flashed forth his bright sword in the sunlight.
+
+For a time Guy of Gisbourne stared upon Robin as though bereft of wits;
+but his wonder quickly passed to a wild rage.  "Art thou indeed Robin Hood?"
+cried he.  "Now I am glad to meet thee, thou poor wretch!  Shrive thyself,
+for thou wilt have no time for shriving when I am done with thee."
+So saying, he also drew his sword.
+
+And now came the fiercest fight that ever Sherwood saw;
+for each man knew that either he or the other must die,
+and that no mercy was to be had in this battle.
+Up and down they fought, till all the sweet green grass was
+crushed and ground beneath the trampling of their heels.
+More than once the point of Robin Hood's sword felt the softness
+of flesh, and presently the ground began to be sprinkled with bright
+red drops, albeit not one of them came from Robin's veins.
+At last Guy of Gisbourne made a fierce and deadly thrust at
+Robin Hood, from which he leaped back lightly, but in so leaping
+he caught his heel in a root and fell heavily upon his back.
+"Now, Holy Mary aid me!" muttered he, as the other leaped at him,
+with a grin of rage upon his face.  Fiercely Guy of Gisbourne
+stabbed at the other with his great sword, but Robin caught
+the blade in his naked hand, and, though it cut his palm,
+he turned the point away so that it plunged deep into the ground
+close beside him; then, ere a blow could be struck again,
+he leaped to his feet, with his good sword in his hand.
+And now despair fell upon Guy of Gisbourne's heart in a black cloud,
+and he looked around him wildly, like a wounded hawk.
+Seeing that his strength was going from him, Robin leaped forward, and,
+quick as a flash, struck a back-handed blow beneath the sword arm.
+Down fell the sword from Guy of Gisbourne's grasp, and back
+he staggered at the stroke, and, ere he could regain himself,
+Robin's sword passed through and through his body.  Round he spun
+upon his heel, and, flinging his hands aloft with a shrill,
+wild cry, fell prone upon his face upon the green sod.
+
+Then Robin Hood wiped his sword and thrust it back into
+
+
+
+the scabbard, and, coming to where Guy of Gisbourne lay,
+he stood over him with folded arms, talking to himself the while.
+"This is the first man I have slain since I shot the Kings
+forester in the hot days of my youth.  I ofttimes think bitterly,
+even yet, of that first life I took, but of this I am as glad
+as though I had slain a wild boar that laid waste a fair country.
+Since the Sheriff of Nottingham hath sent such a one as this
+against me, I will put on the fellow's garb and go forth to see
+whether I may not find his worship, and perchance pay him back
+some of the debt I owe him upon this score."
+
+So saying, Robin Hood stripped the hairy garments from off
+the dead man, and put them on himself, all bloody as they were.
+Then, strapping the other's sword and dagger around his
+
+
+
+body and carrying his own in his hand, together with the two bows
+of yew, he drew the cowl of horse's hide over his face, so that none
+could tell who he was, and set forth from the forest, turning his
+steps toward the eastward and Nottingham Town.  As he strode along
+the country roads, men, women, and children hid away from him,
+for the terror of Guy of Gisbourne's name and of his doings had
+spread far and near.
+
+And now let us see what befell Little John while these things were happening.
+
+Little John walked on his way through the forest paths until he had
+come to the outskirts of the woodlands, where, here and there,
+fields of barley, corn, or green meadow lands lay smiling in the sun.
+So he came to the highroad and to where a little thatched
+cottage stood back of a cluster of twisted crab trees,
+with flowers in front of it.  Here he stopped of a sudden,
+for he thought that he heard the sound of someone in sorrow.
+He listened, and found that it came from the cottage; so, turning his
+footsteps thither, he pushed open the wicket and entered the place.
+There he saw a gray-haired dame sitting beside a cold hearthstone,
+rocking herself to and fro and weeping bitterly.
+
+Now Little John had a tender heart for the sorrows of other folk, so,
+coming to the old woman and patting her kindly upon the shoulder,
+he spoke comforting words to her, bidding her cheer up and tell him
+her troubles, for that mayhap he might do something to ease them.
+At all this the good dame shook her head; but all the same his kind
+words did soothe her somewhat, so after a while she told him all
+that bore upon her mind.  That that morning she had three as fair,
+tall sons beside her as one could find in all Nottinghamshire, but that
+they were now taken from her, and were like to be hanged straightway;
+that, want having come upon them, her eldest boy had gone out,
+the night before, into the forest, and had slain a hind in the moonlight;
+that the King's rangers had followed the blood upon the grass
+until they had come to her cottage, and had there found the deer's
+meat in the cupboard; that, as neither of the younger sons would
+betray their brother, the foresters had taken all three away,
+in spite of the oldest saying that he alone had slain the deer;
+that, as they went, she had heard the rangers talking among themselves,
+saying that the Sheriff had sworn that he would put a check upon
+the great slaughter of deer that had been going on of late by
+hanging the very first rogue caught thereat upon the nearest tree,
+and that they would take the three youths to the King's Head Inn,
+near Nottingham Town, where the Sheriff was abiding that day,
+there to await the return of a certain fellow he had sent into
+Sherwood to seek for Robin Hood.
+
+To all this Little John listened, shaking his head sadly now and then.
+"Alas," quoth he, when the good dame had finished her speech,
+"this is indeed an ill case.  But who is this that goeth into
+Sherwood after Robin Hood, and why doth he go to seek him?
+But no matter for that now; only that I would that Robin Hood were
+here to advise us.  Nevertheless, no time may be lost in sending
+for him at this hour, if we would save the lives of thy three sons.
+Tell me, hast thou any clothes hereabouts that I may put on in place
+of these of Lincoln green?  Marry, if our stout Sheriff catcheth me
+without disguise, I am like to be run up more quickly than thy sons,
+let me tell thee, dame."
+
+Then the old woman told him that she had in the house some of the
+clothes of her good husband, who had died only two years before.
+These she brought to Little John, who, doffing his garb of Lincoln green,
+put them on in its stead.  Then, making a wig and false beard
+of uncarded wool, he covered his own brown hair and beard, and,
+putting on a great, tall hat that had belonged to the old peasant,
+he took his staff in one hand and his bow in the other, and set
+forth with all speed to where the Sheriff had taken up his inn.
+
+A mile or more from Nottingham Town, and not far from the southern
+borders of Sherwood Forest, stood the cosy inn bearing the sign
+of the King's Head.  Here was a great bustle and stir on this
+bright morning, for the Sheriff and a score of his men had come
+to stop there and await Guy of Gisbourne's return from the forest.
+Great hiss and fuss of cooking was going on in the kitchen,
+and great rapping and tapping of wine kegs and beer barrels was
+going on in the cellar.  The Sheriff sat within, feasting merrily
+of the best the place afforded, and the Sheriff's men sat upon
+the bench before the door, quaffing ale, or lay beneath the shade
+of the broad-spreading oak trees, talking and jesting and laughing.
+All around stood the horses of the band, with a great noise
+of stamping feet and a great switching of tails.  To this inn came
+the King's rangers, driving the widow's three sons before them.
+The hands of the three youths were tied tightly behind their backs,
+and a cord from neck to neck fastened them all together.
+So they were marched to the room where the Sheriff sat at meat,
+and stood trembling before him as he scowled sternly upon them.
+
+"So," quoth he, in a great, loud, angry voice, "ye have been poaching upon
+the King's deer, have you?  Now I will make short work of you this day,
+for I will hang up all three of you as a farmer would hang up three crows
+to scare others of the kind from the field.  Our fair county of Nottingham
+hath been too long a breeding place for such naughty knaves as ye are.
+I have put up with these things for many years, but now I will stamp them
+out once for all, and with you I will begin."
+
+Then one of the poor fellows opened his mouth to speak,
+but the Sheriff roared at him in a loud voice to be silent,
+and bade the rangers to take them away till he had done
+his eating and could attend to the matters concerning them.
+So the three poor youths were marched outside, where they stood
+with bowed heads and despairing hearts, till after a while
+the Sheriff came forth.  Then he called his men about him,
+and quoth he, "These three villains shall be hanged straightway,
+but not here, lest they breed ill luck to this goodly inn.
+We will take them over yonder to that belt of woodlands, for I
+would fain hang them upon the very trees of Sherwood itself,
+to show those vile outlaws therein what they may expect of me
+if I ever have the good luck to lay hands upon them."  So saying,
+he mounted his horse, as did his men-at-arms likewise, and all
+together they set forth for the belt of woodlands he had spoken of,
+the poor youths walking in their midst guarded by the rangers.
+So they came at last to the spot, and here nooses were fastened
+around the necks of the three, and the ends of the cords
+flung over the branch of a great oak tree that stood there.
+Then the three youths fell upon their knees and loudly besought mercy
+of the Sheriff; but the Sheriff of Nottingham laughed scornfully.
+"Now," quoth he, "I would that I had a priest here to shrive you;
+but, as none is nigh, you must e'en travel your road with all
+your sins packed upon your backs, and trust to Saint Peter
+to let you in through the gates of Paradise like three peddlers
+into the town."
+
+In the meantime, while all this had been going forward, an old
+man had drawn near and stood leaning on his staff, looking on.
+His hair and beard were all curly and white, and across his back
+was a bow of yew that looked much too strong for him to draw.
+As the Sheriff looked around ere he ordered his men to string
+the three youths up to the oak tree, his eyes fell upon this
+strange old man.  Then his worship beckoned to him, saying,
+"Come hither, father, I have a few words to say to thee."
+So Little John, for it was none other than he, came forward,
+and the Sheriff looked upon him, thinking that there
+was something strangely familiar in the face before him.
+"How, now," said he, "methinks I have seen thee before.
+What may thy name be, father?"
+
+"Please Your Worship," said Little John, in a cracked voice like that
+of an old man, "my name is Giles Hobble, at Your Worship's service."
+
+"Giles Hobble, Giles Hobble," muttered the Sheriff to himself, turning over
+the names that he had in his mind to try to find one to fit to this.
+"I remember not thy name," said he at last, "but it matters not.
+Hast thou a mind to earn sixpence this bright morn?"
+
+"Ay, marry," quoth Little John, "for money is not so plenty with me
+that I should cast sixpence away an I could earn it by an honest turn.
+What is it Your Worship would have me do?"
+
+"Why, this," said the Sheriff.  "Here are three men that need hanging as badly
+as any e'er I saw.  If thou wilt string them up I will pay thee twopence
+apiece for them.  I like not that my men-at-arms should turn hangmen.
+Wilt thou try thy hand?"
+
+"In sooth," said Little John, still in the old man's voice, "I ha'
+never done such a thing before; but an a sixpence is to be earned
+so easily I might as well ha' it as anybody.  But, Your Worship,
+are these naughty fellows shrived?"
+
+"Nay," said the Sheriff, laughing, "never a whit; but thou
+mayst turn thy hand to that also if thou art so minded.
+But hasten, I prythee, for I would get back to mine inn betimes."
+
+So Little John came to where the three youths stood trembling,
+and, putting his face to the first fellow's cheek as though
+he were listening to him, he whispered softly into his ear,
+"Stand still, brother, when thou feelest thy bonds cut, but when thou
+seest me throw my woolen wig and beard from my head and face,
+cast the noose from thy neck and run for the woodlands."
+Then he slyly cut the cord that bound the youth's hands;
+who, upon his part, stood still as though he were yet bound.
+Then he went to the second fellow, and spoke to him in the same way,
+and also cut his bonds.  This he did to the third likewise,
+but all so slyly that the Sheriff, who sat upon his horse laughing,
+wotted not what was being done, nor his men either.
+
+Then Little John turned to the Sheriff.  "Please Your Worship,"
+said he, "will you give me leave to string my bow?
+For I would fain help these fellows along the way, when they
+are swinging, with an arrow beneath the ribs."
+
+"With all my heart," said the Sheriff, "only, as I said before,
+make thou haste in thy doings."
+
+Little John put the tip of his bow to his instep, and strung
+the weapon so deftly that all wondered to see an old man so strong.
+Next he drew a good smooth arrow from his quiver and fitted it
+to the string; then, looking all around to see that the way was clear
+behind him, he suddenly cast away the wool from his head and face,
+shouting in a mighty voice, "Run!"  Quick as a flash the three
+youths flung the nooses from their necks and sped across the open
+to the woodlands as the arrow speeds from the bow.  Little John also
+flew toward the covert like a greyhound, while the Sheriff
+and his men gazed after him all bewildered with the sudden doing.
+But ere the yeoman had gone far the Sheriff roused himself.
+"After him!" he roared in a mighty voice; for he knew now who it
+was with whom he had been talking, and wondered that he had
+not known him before.
+
+Little John heard the Sheriff's words, and seeing that he could
+not hope to reach the woodlands before they would be upon him,
+he stopped and turned suddenly, holding his bow as though
+he were about to shoot.  "Stand back!" cried he fiercely.
+"The first man that cometh a foot forward, or toucheth finger
+to bowstring, dieth!"
+
+At these words the Sheriff's men stood as still as stocks, for they
+knew right well that Little John would be as good as his word,
+and that to disobey him meant death.  In vain the Sheriff roared at them,
+calling them cowards, and urging them forward in a body; they would
+not budge an inch, but stood and watched Little John as he moved
+slowly away toward the forest, keeping his gaze fixed upon them.
+But when the Sheriff saw his enemy thus slipping betwixt his fingers he grew
+mad with his rage, so that his head swam and he knew not what he did.
+Then of a sudden he turned his horse's head, and plunging his spurs
+into its sides he gave a great shout, and, rising in his stirrups,
+came down upon Little John like the wind.  Then Little John raised
+his deadly bow and drew the gray goose feather to his cheek.
+But alas for him!  For, ere he could loose the shaft, the good bow
+that had served him so long, split in his hands, and the arrow fell
+harmless at his feet.  Seeing what had happened, the Sheriff's
+men raised a shout, and, following their master, came rushing
+down upon Little John.  But the Sheriff was ahead of the others,
+and so caught up with the yeoman before he reached the shelter
+of the woodlands, then leaning forward he struck a mighty blow.
+Little John ducked and the Sheriff's sword turned in his hand,
+but the flat of the blade struck the other upon the head and smote
+him down, stunned and senseless.
+
+"Now, I am right glad," said the Sheriff, when the men came up and found
+that Little John was not dead, "that I have not slain this man in my haste!
+I would rather lose five hundred pounds than have him die thus instead
+of hanging, as such a vile thief should do.  Go, get some water from
+yonder fountain, William, and pour it over his head."
+
+The man did as he was bidden, and presently Little John opened his eyes
+and looked around him, all dazed and bewildered with the stun of the blow.
+Then they tied his hands behind him, and lifting him up set him
+upon the back of one of the horses, with his face to its tail
+and his feet strapped beneath its belly.  So they took him back
+to the King's Head Inn, laughing and rejoicing as they went along.
+But in the meantime the widow's three sons had gotten safely away,
+and were hidden in the woodlands.
+
+Once more the Sheriff of Nottingham sat within the King's Head Inn.
+His heart rejoiced within him, for he had at last done that which
+he had sought to do for years, taken Little John prisoner.
+Quoth he to himself, "This time tomorrow the rogue shall hang upon
+the gallows tree in front of the great gate of Nottingham Town,
+and thus shall I make my long score with him even."  So saying,
+he took a deep draught of Canary.  But it seemed as if the Sheriff
+had swallowed a thought with his wine, for he shook his head
+and put the cup down hastily.  "Now," he muttered to himself,
+"I would not for a thousand pounds have this fellow slip through
+my fingers; yet, should his master escape that foul Guy of Gisbourne,
+there is no knowing what he may do, for he is the cunningest knave
+in all the world--this same Robin Hood.  Belike I had better not wait
+until tomorrow to hang the fellow."  So saying, he pushed his chair
+back hastily, and going forth from the inn called his men together.
+Quoth he, "I will wait no longer for the hanging of this rogue, but it
+shall be done forthwith, and that from the very tree whence he saved
+those three young villains by stepping betwixt them and the law.
+So get ye ready straightway."
+
+Then once more they sat Little John upon the horse, with his
+face to the tail, and so, one leading the horse whereon he sat
+and the others riding around him, they went forward to that tree
+from the branches of which they had thought to hang the poachers.
+On they went, rattling and jingling along the road till they came
+to the tree.  Here one of the men spake to the Sheriff of a sudden.
+"Your Worship," cried he, "is not yon fellow coming along toward
+us that same Guy of Gisbourne whom thou didst send into the forest
+to seek Robin Hood?"  At these words the Sheriff shaded his eyes
+and looked eagerly.  "Why, certes," quoth he, "yon fellow is
+the same.  Now, Heaven send that he hath slain the master thief,
+as we will presently slay the man!"
+
+When Little John heard this speech he looked up, and straightway
+his heart crumbled away within him, for not only were the man's
+garments all covered with blood, but he wore Robin Hood's bugle
+horn and carried his bow and broadsword.
+
+"How now!" cried the Sheriff, when Robin Hood, in Guy of Gisbourne's clothes,
+had come nigh to them.  "What luck hath befallen thee in the forest?
+Why, man, thy clothes are all over blood!"
+
+"An thou likest not my clothes," said Robin in a harsh voice
+like that of Guy of Gisbourne, "thou mayst shut thine eyes.
+Marry, the blood upon me is that of the vilest outlaw that ever
+trod the woodlands, and one whom I have slain this day,
+albeit not without wound to myself."
+
+Then out spake Little John, for the first time since he had
+fallen into the Sheriff's hands.  "O thou vile, bloody wretch!
+I know thee, Guy of Gisbourne, for who is there that hath not heard
+of thee and cursed thee for thy vile deeds of blood and rapine?
+Is it by such a hand as thine that the gentlest heart that ever
+beat is stilled in death?  Truly, thou art a fit tool for this
+coward Sheriff of Nottingham.  Now I die joyfully, nor do I care
+how I die, for life is nought to me!"  So spake Little John,
+the salt tears rolling down his brown cheeks.
+
+But the Sheriff of Nottingham clapped his hands for joy.
+"Now, Guy of Gisbourne," cried he, "if what thou tellest me is true,
+it will be the best day's doings for thee that ever thou hast
+done in all thy life."
+
+"What I have told thee is sooth, and I lie not," said Robin, still in
+Guy of Gisbourne's voice.  "Look, is not this Robin Hood's sword,
+and is not this his good bow of yew, and is not this his bugle horn?
+Thinkest thou he would have given them to Guy of Gisbourne of his
+own free will?"
+
+Then the Sheriff laughed aloud for joy.  "This is a good day!" cried he.
+"The great outlaw dead and his right-hand man in my hands!
+Ask what thou wilt of me, Guy of Gisbourne, and it is thine!"
+
+"Then this I ask of thee," said Robin.  "As I have slain the master I would
+now kill the man.  Give this fellow's life into my hands, Sir Sheriff."
+
+"Now thou art a fool!" cried the Sheriff.  "Thou mightst have had
+money enough for a knight's ransom if thou hadst asked for it.
+I like ill to let this fellow pass from my hands, but as I have promised,
+thou shalt have him."
+
+"I thank thee right heartily for thy gift," cried Robin.  "Take the rogue
+down from the horse, men, and lean him against yonder tree, while I show
+you how we stick a porker whence I come!"
+
+At these words some of the Sheriff's men shook their heads;
+for, though they cared not a whit whether Little John were
+hanged or not, they hated to see him butchered in cold blood.
+But the Sheriff called to them in a loud voice, ordering them
+to take the yeoman down from the horse and lean him against
+the tree, as the other bade.
+
+While they were doing this Robin Hood strung both his bow
+and that of Guy of Gisbourne, albeit none of them took notice
+of his doing so.  Then, when Little John stood against the tree,
+he drew Guy of Gisbourne's sharp, double-edged dagger.
+"Fall back! fall back!" cried he.  "Would ye crowd so on
+my pleasure, ye unmannerly knaves?  Back, I say!  Farther yet!"
+So they crowded back, as he ordered, many of them turning their
+faces away, that they might not see what was about to happen.
+
+"Come!" cried Little John.  "Here is my breast.  It is meet that
+the same hand that slew my dear master should butcher me also!
+I know thee, Guy of Gisbourne!"
+
+"Peace, Little John!" said Robin in a low voice.  "Twice thou
+hast said thou knowest me, and yet thou knowest me not at all.
+Couldst thou not tell me beneath this wild beast's hide?  Yonder, just in
+front of thee, lie my bow and arrows, likewise my broadsword.
+Take them when I cut thy bonds.  Now!  Get them quickly!"
+So saying, he cut the bonds, and Little John, quick as a wink,
+leaped forward and caught up the bow and arrows and the broadsword.
+At the same time Robin Hood threw back the cowl of horse's hide
+from his face and bent Guy of Gisbourne's bow, with a keen,
+barbed arrow fitted to the string.  "Stand back!" cried he sternly.
+"The first man that toucheth finger to bowstring dieth!
+I have slain thy man, Sheriff; take heed that it is not thy
+turn next."  Then, seeing that Little John had armed himself,
+he clapped his bugle horn to his lips and blew three blasts
+both loud and shrill.
+
+Now when the Sheriff of Nottingham saw whose face it was
+beneath Guy of Gisbourne's hood, and when he heard those bugle
+notes ring in his ear, he felt as if his hour had come.
+"Robin Hood!" roared he, and without another word he wheeled
+his horse in the road and went off in a cloud of dust.
+The Sheriff's men, seeing their master thus fleeing for his life,
+thought that it was not their business to tarry longer, so,
+clapping spurs to their horses, they also dashed away after him.
+But though the Sheriff of Nottingham went fast, he could not
+outstrip a clothyard arrow.  Little John twanged his bowstring
+with a shout, and when the Sheriff dashed in through the gates
+of Nottingham Town at full speed, a gray goose shaft stuck out
+behind him like a moulting sparrow with one feather in its tail.
+For a month afterward the poor Sheriff could sit upon nought
+but the softest cushions that could be gotten for him.
+
+Thus the Sheriff and a score of men ran away from Robin Hood and Little John;
+so that when Will Stutely and a dozen or more of stout yeomen burst
+from out the covert, they saw nought of their master's enemies,
+for the Sheriff and his men were scurrying away in the distance,
+hidden within a cloud of dust like a little thunderstorm.
+
+Then they all went back into the forest once more, where they found
+the widow's three sons, who ran to Little John and kissed his hands.
+But it would not do for them to roam the forest at large any more;
+so they promised that, after they had gone and told their mother
+of their escape, they would come that night to the greenwood tree,
+and thenceforth become men of the band.
+
+
+
+King Richard Comes to Sherwood Forest
+
+NOT MORE than two months had passed and gone since these stirring
+adventures befell Robin Hood and Little John, when all Nottinghamshire
+was a mighty stir and tumult, for King Richard of the Lion's Heart
+was making a royal progress through merry England, and everyone
+expected him to come to Nottingham Town in his journeying.
+Messengers went riding back and forth between the Sheriff and the King,
+until at last the time was fixed upon when His Majesty was to stop
+in Nottingham, as the guest of his worship.
+
+And now came more bustle than ever; a great running hither and thither,
+a rapping of hammers and a babble of voices sounded everywhere
+through the place, for the folk were building great arches across
+the streets, beneath which the King was to pass, and were draping
+these arches with silken banners and streamers of many colors.
+Great hubbub was going on in the Guild Hall of the town, also, for here
+a grand banquet was to be given to the King and the nobles of his train,
+and the best master carpenters were busy building a throne where
+the King and the Sheriff were to sit at the head of the table,
+side by side.
+
+It seemed to many of the good folk of the place as if the day
+that should bring the King into the town would never come;
+but all the same it did come in its own season, and bright
+shone the sun down into the stony streets, which were all alive
+with a restless sea of people.  On either side of the way
+great crowds of town and country folk stood packed as close
+together as dried herring in a box, so that the Sheriffs men,
+halberds in hands, could hardly press them back to leave space
+for the King's riding.
+
+"Take care whom thou pushest against!" cried a great, burly friar
+to one of these men.  "Wouldst thou dig thine elbows into me, sirrah?
+By'r Lady of the Fountain, an thou dost not treat me with more
+deference I will crack thy knave's pate for thee, even though thou
+be one of the mighty Sheriff's men."
+
+At this a great shout of laughter arose from a number of tall yeomen in
+Lincoln green that were scattered through the crowd thereabouts; but one that
+seemed of more authority than the others nudged the holy man with his elbow.
+"Peace, Tuck," said he, "didst thou not promise me, ere thou camest here,
+that thou wouldst put a check upon thy tongue?"
+
+"Ay, marry," grumbled the other, "but 'a did not think to have
+a hard-footed knave trample all over my poor toes as though they
+were no more than so many acorns in the forest."
+
+But of a sudden all this bickering ceased, for a clear sound of many
+bugle horns came winding down the street.  Then all the people
+craned their necks and gazed in the direction whence the sound came,
+and the crowding and the pushing and the swaying grew greater than ever.
+And now a gallant array of men came gleaming into sight, and the cheering
+of the people ran down the crowd as the fire runs in dry grass.
+
+Eight and twenty heralds in velvet and cloth of gold came riding forward.
+Over their heads fluttered a cloud of snow-white feathers, and each
+herald bore in his hand a long silver trumpet, which he blew musically.
+From each trumpet hung a heavy banner of velvet and cloth of gold,
+with the royal arms of England emblazoned thereon.  After these came
+riding fivescore noble knights, two by two, all fully armed, saving that
+their heads were uncovered.  In their hands they bore tall lances,
+from the tops of which fluttered pennons of many colors and devices.
+By the side of each knight walked a page clad in rich clothes of silk
+and velvet, and each page bore in his hands his master's helmet,
+from which waved long, floating plumes of feathers.  Never had Nottingham seen
+a fairer sight than those fivescore noble knights, from whose armor the sun
+blazed in dazzling light as they came riding on their great war horses,
+with clashing of arms and jingling of chains.  Behind the knights came
+the barons and the nobles of the mid-country, in robes of silk and cloth
+of gold, with golden chains about their necks and jewels at their girdles.
+Behind these again came a great array of men-at-arms, with spears and halberds
+in their hands, and, in the midst of these, two riders side by side.
+One of the horsemen was the Sheriff of Nottingham in his robes of office.
+The other, who was a head taller than the Sheriff, was clad in a rich but
+simple garb, with a broad, heavy chain about his neck.  His hair and beard
+were like threads of gold, and his eyes were as blue as the summer sky.
+As he rode along he bowed to the right hand and the left, and a mighty
+roar of voices followed him as he passed; for this was King Richard.
+
+Then, above all the tumult and the shouting a great voice was
+heard roaring, "Heaven, its saints bless thee, our gracious
+King Richard! and likewise Our Lady of the Fountain, bless thee!"
+Then King Richard, looking toward the spot whence the sound came,
+saw a tall, burly, strapping priest standing in front of all the crowd
+with his legs wide apart as he backed against those behind.
+
+"By my soul, Sheriff," said the King, laughing, "ye have the tallest
+priests in Nottinghamshire that e'er I saw in all my life.
+If Heaven never answered prayers because of deafness, methinks I would
+nevertheless have blessings bestowed upon me, for that man yonder would make
+the great stone image of Saint Peter rub its ears and hearken unto him.
+I would that I had an army of such as he."
+
+To this the Sheriff answered never a word, but all the blood left
+his cheeks, and he caught at the pommel of his saddle to keep
+himself from falling; for he also saw the fellow that so shouted,
+and knew him to be Friar Tuck; and, moreover, behind Friar Tuck
+he saw the faces of Robin Hood and Little John and Will Scarlet
+and Will Stutely and Allan a Dale and others of the band.
+
+"How now," said the King hastily, "art thou ill, Sheriff, that thou
+growest so white?"
+
+"Nay, Your Majesty," said the Sheriff, "it was nought but a sudden pain
+that will soon pass by."  Thus he spake, for he was ashamed that the King
+should know that Robin Hood feared him so little that he thus dared to come
+within the very gates of Nottingham Town.
+
+Thus rode the King into Nottingham Town on that bright afternoon
+in the early fall season; and none rejoiced more than Robin Hood
+and his merry men to see him come so royally unto his own.
+
+
+Eventide had come; the great feast in the Guild Hall
+at Nottingham Town was done, and the wine passed freely.
+A thousand waxen lights gleamed along the board, at which sat
+lord and noble and knight and squire in goodly array.
+At the head of the table, upon a throne all hung with cloth of gold,
+sat King Richard with the Sheriff of Nottingham beside him.
+
+Quoth the King to the Sheriff, laughing as he spoke, "I have heard
+much spoken concerning the doings of certain fellows hereabouts,
+one Robin Hood and his band, who are outlaws and abide
+in Sherwood Forest.  Canst thou not tell me somewhat of them,
+Sir Sheriff?  For I hear that thou hast had dealings with them
+more than once."
+
+At these words the Sheriff of Nottingham looked down gloomily,
+and the Bishop of Hereford, who was present, gnawed his nether lip.
+Quoth the Sheriff, "I can tell Your Majesty but little concerning
+the doings of those naughty fellows, saving that they are the boldest
+lawbreakers in all the land."
+
+Then up spake young Sir Henry of the Lea, a great favorite with the King,
+under whom he had fought in Palestine.  "May it please Your Majesty,"
+said he, "when I was away in Palestine I heard ofttimes from my father,
+and in most cases I heard of this very fellow, Robin Hood.  If Your Majesty
+would like I will tell you a certain adventure of this outlaw."
+
+Then the King laughingly bade him tell his tale, whereupon he told
+how Robin Hood had aided Sir Richard of the Lea with money that he had
+borrowed from the Bishop of Hereford.  Again and again the King and those
+present roared with laughter, while the poor Bishop waxed cherry red
+in the face with vexation, for the matter was a sore thing with him.
+When Sir Henry of the Lea was done, others of those present, seeing how
+the King enjoyed this merry tale, told other tales concerning Robin
+and his merry men.
+
+"By the hilt of my sword," said stout King Richard, "this is as bold
+and merry a knave as ever I heard tell of.  Marry, I must take this
+matter in hand and do what thou couldst not do, Sheriff, to wit,
+clear the forest of him and his band."
+
+That night the King sat in the place that was set apart for his
+lodging while in Nottingham Town.  With him were young Sir Henry
+of the Lea and two other knights and three barons of Nottinghamshire;
+but the King's mind still dwelled upon Robin Hood.  "Now," quoth he,
+"I would freely give a hundred pounds to meet this roguish fellow,
+Robin Hood, and to see somewhat of his doings in Sherwood Forest."
+
+Then up spake Sir Hubert of gingham, laughing:  "If Your Majesty
+hath such a desire upon you it is not so hard to satisfy.
+If Your Majesty is willing to lose one hundred pounds,
+I will engage to cause you not only to meet this fellow,
+but to feast with him in Sherwood."
+
+"Marry, Sir Hubert," quoth the King, "this pleaseth me well.
+But how wilt thou cause me to meet Robin Hood?"
+
+"Why, thus," said Sir Hubert, "let Your Majesty and us here present
+put on the robes of seven of the Order of Black Friars, and let
+Your Majesty hang a purse of one hundred pounds beneath your gown;
+then let us undertake to ride from here to Mansfield Town tomorrow,
+and, without I am much mistaken, we will both meet with Robin Hood
+and dine with him before the day be passed."
+
+"I like thy plan, Sir Hubert," quoth the King merrily, "and tomorrow we
+will try it and see whether there be virtue in it."
+
+So it happened that when early the next morning the Sheriff came
+to where his liege lord was abiding, to pay his duty to him,
+the King told him what they had talked of the night before,
+and what merry adventure they were set upon undertaking that morning.
+But when the Sheriff heard this he smote his forehead with his fist.
+"Alas!" said he, "what evil counsel is this that hath been given thee!
+O my gracious lord and King, you know not what you do!
+This villain that you thus go to seek hath no reverence either
+for king or king's laws."
+
+"But did I not hear aright when I was told that this Robin Hood hath shed no
+blood since he was outlawed, saving only that of that vile Guy of Gisbourne,
+for whose death all honest men should thank him?"
+
+"Yea, Your Majesty," said the Sheriff, "you have heard aright.  Nevertheless--"
+
+"Then," quoth the King, breaking in on the Sheriffs speech,
+"what have I to fear in meeting him, having done him no harm?
+Truly, there is no danger in this.  But mayhap thou wilt go
+with us, Sir Sheriff."
+
+"Nay," quoth the Sheriff hastily, "Heaven forbid!"
+
+But now seven habits such as Black Friars wear were brought,
+and the King and those about him having clad themselves therein,
+and His Majesty having hung a purse with a hundred golden
+pounds in it beneath his robes, they all went forth and mounted
+the mules that had been brought to the door for them.
+Then the King bade the Sheriff be silent as to their doings,
+and so they set forth upon their way.  Onward they traveled,
+laughing and jesting, until they passed through the open country;
+between bare harvest fields whence the harvest had been gathered home;
+through scattered glades that began to thicken as they went farther
+along, till they came within the heavy shade of the forest itself.
+They traveled in the forest for several miles without meeting
+anyone such as they sought, until they had come to that part
+of the road that lay nearest to Newstead Abbey.
+
+"By the holy Saint Martin," quoth the King, "I would that I
+had a better head for remembering things of great need.
+Here have we come away and brought never so much as a drop
+of anything to drink with us.  Now I would give half a hundred
+pounds for somewhat to quench my thirst withal."
+
+No sooner had the King so spoken, than out from the covert
+at the roadside stepped a tall fellow with yellow beard and
+hair and a pair of merry blue eyes.  "Truly, holy brother,"
+said he, laying his hand upon the King's bridle rein, "it were an
+unchristian thing to not give fitting answer to so fair a bargain.
+We keep an inn hereabouts, and for fifty pounds we will not
+only give thee a good draught of wine, but will give thee
+as noble a feast as ever thou didst tickle thy gullet withal."
+So saying, he put his fingers to his lips and blew a shrill whistle.
+Then straightway the bushes and branches on either side of
+the road swayed and crackled, and threescore broad-shouldered
+yeomen in Lincoln green burst out of the covert.
+
+"How now, fellow," quoth the King, "who art thou, thou naughty rogue?
+Hast thou no regard for such holy men as we are?"
+
+"Not a whit," quoth merry Robin Hood, for the fellow was he, "for in sooth
+all the holiness belonging to rich friars, such as ye are, one could drop into
+a thimble and the goodwife would never feel it with the tip of her finger.
+As for my name, it is Robin Hood, and thou mayst have heard it before."
+
+"Now out upon thee!" quoth King Richard.  "Thou art a bold and naughty fellow
+and a lawless one withal, as I have often heard tell.  Now, prythee, let me,
+and these brethren of mine, travel forward in peace and quietness."
+
+"It may not be," said Robin, "for it would look but ill of us
+to let such holy men travel onward with empty stomachs.
+But I doubt not that thou hast a fat purse to pay thy score at our
+inn since thou offerest freely so much for a poor draught of wine.
+Show me thy purse, reverend brother, or I may perchance have
+to strip thy robes from thee to search for it myself."
+
+"Nay, use no force," said the King sternly.  "Here is my purse,
+but lay not thy lawless hands upon our person."
+
+"Hut, tut," quoth merry Robin, "what proud words are these?
+Art thou the King of England, to talk so to me?  Here, Will,
+take this purse and see what there is within."
+
+Will Scarlet took the purse and counted out the money.  Then Robin bade
+him keep fifty pounds for themselves, and put fifty back into the purse.
+This he handed to the King.  "Here, brother," quoth he, "take this half
+of thy money, and thank Saint Martin, on whom thou didst call before,
+that thou hast fallen into the hands of such gentle rogues that they will not
+strip thee bare, as they might do.  But wilt thou not put back thy cowl?
+For I would fain see thy face."
+
+"Nay," said the King, drawing back, "I may not put back my cowl,
+for we seven have vowed that we will not show our faces for four
+and twenty hours."  ,
+
+"Then keep them covered in peace," said Robin, "and far be it
+from me to make you break your vows."
+
+So he called seven of his yeomen and bade them each one take
+a mule by the bridle; then, turning their faces toward the depths
+of the woodlands, they journeyed onward until they came to the open
+glade and the greenwood tree.
+
+Little John, with threescore yeomen at his heels, had also gone forth that
+morning to wait along the roads and bring a rich guest to Sherwood glade,
+if such might be his luck, for many with fat purses must travel the roads
+at this time, when such great doings were going on in Nottinghamshire,
+but though Little John and so many others were gone, Friar Tuck and twoscore
+or more stout yeomen were seated or lying around beneath the great tree,
+and when Robin and the others came they leaped to their feet to meet him.
+
+"By my soul," quoth merry King Richard, when he had gotten down from
+his mule and stood looking about him, "thou hast in very truth a fine
+lot of young men about thee, Robin.  Methinks King Richard himself
+would be glad of such a bodyguard."
+
+"These are not all of my fellows," said Robin proudly, "for threescore
+more of them are away on business with my good right-hand man,
+Little John.  But, as for King Richard, I tell thee, brother, there is
+not a man of us all but would pour out our blood like water for him.
+Ye churchmen cannot rightly understand our King; but we yeomen
+love him right loyally for the sake of his brave doings which are
+so like our own."
+
+But now Friar Tuck came bustling up.  "Gi' ye good den, brothers," said he.
+"I am right glad to welcome some of my cloth in this naughty place.
+Truly, methinks these rogues of outlaws would stand but an ill chance were it
+not for the prayers of Holy Tuck, who laboreth so hard for their well-being."
+Here he winked one eye slyly and stuck his tongue into his cheek.
+
+"Who art thou, mad priest?" said the King in a serious voice,
+albeit he smiled beneath his cowl.
+
+At this Friar Tuck looked all around with a slow gaze.  "Look you now,"
+quoth he, "never let me hear you say again that I am no patient man.
+Here is a knave of a friar calleth me a mad priest, and yet I smite him not.
+My name is Friar Tuck, fellow--the holy Friar Tuck."
+
+"There, Tuck," said Robin, "thou hast said enow.  Prythee, cease thy
+talk and bring some wine.  These reverend men are athirst, and sin'
+they have paid so richly for their score they must e'en have the best."
+
+Friar Tuck bridled at being so checked in his speech,
+nevertheless he went straightway to do Robin's bidding;
+so presently a great crock was brought, and wine was poured out for
+all the guests and for Robin Hood.  Then Robin held his cup aloft.
+"Stay!" cried he.  "Tarry in your drinking till I give you a pledge.
+Here is to good King Richard of great renown, and may all enemies
+to him be confounded."
+
+Then all drank the King's health, even the King himself.
+"Methinks, good fellow," said he, "thou hast drunk to
+thine own confusion."
+
+"Never a whit," quoth merry Robin, "for I tell thee that we of Sherwood
+are more loyal to our lord the King than those of thine order.
+We would give up our lives for his benefiting, while ye are content
+to lie snug in your abbeys and priories let reign who will."
+
+At this the King laughed.  Quoth he, "Perhaps King Richard's welfare is
+more to me than thou wottest of, fellow.  But enough of that matter.
+We have paid well for our fare, so canst thou not show us some
+merry entertainment?  I have oft heard that ye are wondrous archers;
+wilt thou not show us somewhat of your skill?"
+
+"With all my heart," said Robin, "we are always pleased to show our
+guests all the sport that is to be seen.  As Gaffer Swanthold sayeth,
+` 'Tis a hard heart that will not give a caged starling of the best';
+and caged starlings ye are with us.  Ho, lads!  Set up a garland
+at the end of the glade."
+
+Then, as the yeomen ran to do their master's bidding, Tuck turned to one
+of the mock friars.  "Hearest thou our master?" quoth he, with a sly wink.
+"Whenever he cometh across some poor piece of wit he straightway layeth
+it on the shoulders of this Gaffer Swanthold--whoever he may be--
+so that the poor goodman goeth traveling about with all the odds
+and ends and tags and rags of our master's brain packed on his back."
+Thus spake Friar Tuck, but in a low voice so that Robin could not hear him,
+for he felt somewhat nettled at Robin's cutting his talk so short.
+
+In the meantime the mark at which they were to shoot was set up at sixscore
+paces distance.  It was a garland of leaves and flowers two spans in width,
+which same was hung upon a stake in front of a broad tree trunk.
+"There," quoth Robin, "yon is a fair mark, lads.  Each of you shoot
+three arrows thereat; and if any fellow misseth by so much as one arrow,
+he shall have a buffet of Will Scarlet's fist."
+
+"Hearken to him!" quoth Friar Tuck.  "Why, master, thou dost bestow
+buffets from thy strapping nephew as though they were love taps from
+some bouncing lass.  I warrant thou art safe to hit the garland thyself,
+or thou wouldst not be so free of his cuffing."
+
+First David of Doncaster shot, and lodged all three of his
+arrows within the garland.  "Well done, David!" cried Robin,
+"thou hast saved thine ears from a warming this day."
+Next Midge, the Miller, shot, and he, also, lodged his arrows
+in the garland.  Then followed Wat, the Tinker, but alas for him!
+For one of his shafts missed the mark by the breadth of two fingers.
+
+"Come hither, fellow," said Will Scarlet, in his soft,
+gentle voice, "I owe thee somewhat that I would pay forthwith."
+Then Wat, the Tinker, came forward and stood in front of
+Will Scarlet, screwing up his face and shutting his eyes tightly,
+as though he already felt his ears ringing with the buffet.
+Will Scarlet rolled up his sleeve, and, standing on tiptoe to give
+the greater swing to his arm, he struck with might and main.
+"WHOOF!" came his palm against the Tinker's head, and down went
+stout Wat to the grass, heels over head, as the wooden image at
+the fair goes down when the skillful player throws a cudgel at it.
+Then, as the Tinker sat up upon the grass, rubbing his ear
+and winking and blinking at the bright stars that danced before
+his eyes, the yeomen roared with mirth till the forest rang.
+As for King Richard, he laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks.
+Thus the band shot, each in turn, some getting off scot free,
+and some winning a buffet that always sent them to the grass.  And now,
+last of all, Robin took his place, and all was hushed as he shot.
+The first shaft he shot split a piece from the stake on which the
+garland was hung; the second lodged within an inch of the other.
+"By my halidom," said King Richard to himself, "I would give
+a thousand pounds for this fellow to be one of my guard!"
+And now, for the third time Robin shot; but, alas for him!
+The arrow was ill-feathered, and, wavering to one side, it smote
+an inch outside the garland.
+
+At this a great roar went up, those of the yeomen who sat upon
+the grass rolling over and over and shouting with laughter,
+for never before had they seen their master so miss his mark;
+but Robin flung his bow upon the ground with vexation.
+"Now, out upon it!" cried he.  "That shaft had an ill feather to it,
+for I felt it as it left my fingers.  Give me a clean arrow,
+and I will engage to split the wand with it."
+
+At these words the yeomen laughed louder than ever.
+"Nay, good uncle," said Will Scarlet in his soft, sweet voice,
+"thou hast had thy fair chance and hast missed thine aim out and out.
+I swear the arrow was as good as any that hath been loosed this day.
+Come hither; I owe thee somewhat, and would fain pay it."
+
+"Go, good master," roared Friar Tuck, "and may my blessing go with thee.
+Thou hast bestowed these love taps of Will Scarlet's with great freedom.
+It were pity an thou gottest not thine own share."
+
+"It may not be," said merry Robin.  "I am king here, and no subject
+may raise hand against the king.  But even our great King Richard
+may yield to the holy Pope without shame, and even take a tap from him
+by way of penance; therefore I will yield myself to this holy friar,
+who seemeth to be one in authority, and will take my punishment from him."
+Thus saying, he turned to the King, "I prythee, brother, wilt thou take
+my punishing into thy holy hands?"
+
+"With all my heart," quoth merry King Richard, rising from
+where he was sitting.  "I owe thee somewhat for having
+lifted a heavy weight of fifty pounds from my purse.
+So make room for him on the green, lads."
+
+"An thou makest me tumble," quoth Robin, "I will freely give
+thee back thy fifty pounds; but I tell thee, brother, if thou
+makest me not feel grass all along my back, I will take every
+farthing thou hast for thy boastful speech."
+
+"So be it," said the King, "I am willing to venture it."  Thereupon he rolled
+up his sleeve and showed an arm that made the yeomen stare.  But Robin,
+with his feet wide apart, stood firmly planted, waiting the other, smiling.
+Then the King swung back his arm, and, balancing himself a moment,
+he delivered a buffet at Robin that fell like a thunderbolt.  Down went Robin
+headlong upon the grass, for the stroke would have felled a stone wall.
+Then how the yeomen shouted with laughter till their sides ached,
+for never had they seen such a buffet given in all their lives.
+As for Robin, he presently sat up and looked all around him, as though
+he had dropped from a cloud and had lit in a place he had never seen before.
+After a while, still gazing about him at his laughing yeomen, he put
+his fingertips softly to his ear and felt all around it tenderly.
+"Will Scarlet," said he, "count this fellow out his fifty pounds;
+I want nothing more either of his money or of him.  A murrain seize
+him and his buffeting!  I would that I had taken my dues from thee,
+for I verily believe he hath deafened mine ear from ever hearing again."
+
+Then, while gusts of laughter still broke from the band, Will Scarlet counted
+out the fifty pounds, and the King dropped it back into his purse again.
+"I give thee thanks, fellow," said he, "and if ever thou shouldst wish
+for another box of the ear to match the one thou hast, come to me and I
+will fit thee with it for nought."
+
+So spake the merry King; but, even as he ended, there came suddenly
+the sound of many voices, and out from the covert burst Little John
+and threescore men, with Sir Richard of the Lea in the midst.
+Across the glade they came running, and, as they came, Sir Richard
+shouted to Robin:  "Make haste, dear friend, gather thy band
+together and come with me!  King Richard left Nottingham Town
+this very morning, and cometh to seek thee in the woodlands.
+I know not how he cometh, for it was but a rumor of this
+that reached me; nevertheless, I know that it is the truth.
+Therefore hasten with all thy men, and come to Castle Lea,
+for there thou mayst lie hidden till thy present danger passeth.
+Who are these strangers that thou hast with thee?"
+
+"Why," quoth merry Robin, rising from the grass, "these are
+certain gentle guests that came with us from the highroad over
+by Newstead Abbey.  I know not their names, but I have become
+right well acquaint with this lusty rogue's palm this morning.
+Marry, the pleasure of this acquaintance hath dost me a deaf
+ear and fifty pounds to boot!"
+
+Sir Richard looked keenly at the tall friar, who, drawing himself
+up to his full height, looked fixedly back at the knight.
+Then of a sudden Sir Richard's cheeks grew pale, for he knew
+who it was that he looked upon.  Quickly he leaped from off his
+horse's back and flung himself upon his knees before the other.
+At this, the King, seeing that Sir Richard knew him, threw back
+his cowl, and all the yeomen saw his face and knew him also,
+for there was not one of them but had been in the crowd
+in the good town of Nottingham, and had seen him riding side
+by side with the Sheriff.  Down they fell upon their knees,
+nor could they say a word.  Then the King looked all around
+right grimly, and, last of all, his glance came back and rested
+again upon Sir Richard of the Lea.
+
+"How is this, Sir Richard?" said he sternly.  "How darest
+thou step between me and these fellows?  And how darest thou
+offer thy knightly Castle of the Lea for a refuge to them?
+Wilt thou make it a hiding place for the most renowned
+outlaws in England?"
+
+Then Sir Richard of the Lea raised his eyes to the King's face.
+"Far be it from me," said he, "to do aught that could bring Your Majesty's
+anger upon me.  Yet, sooner would I face Your Majesty's wrath than suffer
+aught of harm that I could stay to fall upon Robin Hood and his band;
+for to them I owe life, honor, everything.  Should I, then, desert him
+in his hour of need?"
+
+Ere the knight had done speaking, one of the mock friars that
+stood near the King came forward and knelt beside Sir Richard,
+and throwing back his cowl showed the face of young Sir Henry
+of the Lea.  Then Sir Henry grasped his father's hand and said,
+"Here kneels one who hath served thee well, King Richard, and,
+as thou knowest, hath stepped between thee and death in Palestine;
+yet do I abide by my dear father, and here I say also, that I
+would freely give shelter to this noble outlaw, Robin Hood,
+even though it brought thy wrath upon me, for my father's honor
+and my father's welfare are as dear to me as mine own."
+
+King Richard looked from one to the other of the kneeling knights,
+and at last the frown faded from his brow and a smile
+twitched at the corners of his lips.  "Marry, Sir Richard,"
+quoth the King, "thou art a bold-spoken knight, and thy
+freedom of speech weigheth not heavily against thee with me.
+This young son of thine taketh after his sire both in boldness
+of speech and of deed, for, as he sayeth, he stepped one
+time betwixt me and death; wherefore I would pardon thee
+for his sake even if thou hadst done more than thou hast.
+Rise all of you, for ye shall suffer no harm through me this day,
+for it were pity that a merry time should end in a manner
+as to mar its joyousness."
+
+Then all arose and the King beckoned Robin Hood to come to him.
+"How now," quoth he, "is thine ear still too deaf to hear me speak?"
+
+"Mine ears would be deafened in death ere they would cease to hear
+Your Majesty's voice," said Robin.  "As for the blow that Your Majesty
+struck me, I would say that though my sins are haply many, methinks they
+have been paid up in full thereby."
+
+"Thinkest thou so?" said the King with somewhat of sternness
+in his voice.  "Now I tell thee that but for three things, to wit,
+my mercifulness, my love for a stout woodsman, and the loyalty
+thou hast avowed for me, thine ears, mayhap, might have been more
+tightly closed than ever a buffet from me could have shut them.
+Talk not lightly of thy sins, good Robin.  But come, look up.
+Thy danger is past, for hereby I give thee and all thy band
+free pardon.  But, in sooth, I cannot let you roam the forest as ye
+have done in the past; therefore I will take thee at thy word,
+when thou didst say thou wouldst give thy service to me,
+and thou shalt go back to London with me.  We will take that bold
+knave Little John also, and likewise thy cousin, Will Scarlet,
+and thy minstrel, Allan a Dale.  As for the rest of thy band,
+we will take their names and have them duly recorded as royal rangers;
+for methinks it were wiser to have them changed to law-abiding
+caretakers of our deer in Sherwood than to leave them to run
+at large as outlawed slayers thereof.  But now get a feast ready;
+I would see how ye live in the woodlands."
+
+So Robin bade his men make ready a grand feast.  Straightway great fires
+were kindled and burned brightly, at which savory things roasted sweetly.
+While this was going forward, the King bade Robin call Allan a Dale,
+for he would hear him sing.  So word was passed for Allan, and presently
+he came, bringing his harp.
+
+"Marry," said King Richard, "if thy singing match thy looks it
+is fair enough.  Prythee, strike up a ditty and let us have a taste
+of thy skill."
+
+Then Allan touched his harp lightly, and all words were hushed
+while he sang thus:
+
+
+ " `_Oh, where has thou been, my daughter?
+     Oh, where hast thou been this day
+          Daughter, my daughter?'
+ `Oh, I have been to the river's side,
+ Where the waters lie all gray and wide,
+ And the gray sky broods o'er the leaden tide,
+     And the shrill wind sighs a straining.'
+
+ " `What sawest thou there, my daughter?
+     What sawest thou there this day,
+          Daughter, my daughter?'
+ `Oh, I saw a boat come drifting nigh,
+ Where the quivering rushes hiss and sigh,
+ And the water soughs as it gurgles by,
+     And the shrill wind sighs a straining.'
+
+ " `What sailed in the boat, my daughter?
+     What sailed in the boat this day,
+          Daughter, my daughter?'
+ `Oh, there was one all clad in white,
+ And about his face hung a pallid light,
+ And his eyes gleamed sharp like the stars at night,
+     And the shrill wind sighed a straining.'
+
+ " `And what said he, my daughter?
+     What said he to thee this day,
+          Daughter, my daughter?'
+ `Oh, said he nought, but did he this:
+ Thrice on my lips did he press a kiss,
+ And my heartstrings shrunk with an awful bliss,
+     And the shrill wind sighed a straining,.'
+
+ " `Why growest thou so cold, my daughter?
+     Why growest thou so cold and white,
+          Daughter, my daughter?'
+ Oh, never a word the daughter said,
+ But she sat all straight with a drooping head,
+ For her heart was stilled and her face was dead:
+     And the shrill wind sighed a straining_."
+
+
+All listened in silence; and when Allan a Dale had done King Richard
+heaved a sigh.  "By the breath of my body, Allan," quoth he,
+"thou hast such a wondrous sweet voice that it strangely moves my heart.
+But what doleful ditty is this for the lips of a stout yeoman?
+I would rather hear thee sing a song of love and battle than a sad
+thing like that.  Moreover, I understand it not; what meanest thou
+by the words?"
+
+"I know not, Your Majesty," said Allan, shaking his head,
+"for ofttimes I sing that which I do not clearly understand
+mine own self."
+
+"Well, well," quoth the King, "let it pass; only I tell thee this, Allan,
+thou shouldst turn thy songs to such matters as I spoke of, to wit,
+love or war; for in sooth thou hast a sweeter voice than Blondell,
+and methought he was the best minstrel that ever I heard."
+
+But now one came forward and said that the feast was ready; so Robin Hood
+brought King Richard and those with him to where it lay all spread
+out on fair white linen cloths which lay upon the soft green grass.
+Then King Richard sat him down and feasted and drank, and when he was
+done he swore roundly that he had never sat at such a lusty repast
+in all his life before.
+
+That night he lay in Sherwood Forest upon a bed of sweet green leaves,
+and early the next morning he set forth from the woodlands for
+Nottingham Town, Robin Hood and all of his band going with him.
+You may guess what a stir there was in the good town when
+all these famous outlaws came marching into the streets.
+As for the Sheriff, he knew not what to say nor where to look
+when he saw Robin Hood in such high favor with the King,
+while all his heart was filled with gall because of the vexation
+that lay upon him.
+
+The next day the King took leave of Nottingham Town; so Robin Hood
+and Little John and Will Scarlet and Allan a Dale shook hands
+with all the rest of the band, kissing the cheeks of each man,
+and swearing that they would often come to Sherwood and see them.
+Then each mounted his horse and rode away in the train of the King.
+
+
+
+Epilogue
+
+THUS END the Merry Adventures of Robin Hood; for, in spite of his promise,
+it was many a year ere he saw Sherwood again.
+
+After a year or two at court Little John came back to Nottinghamshire,
+where he lived in an orderly way, though within sight of Sherwood,
+and where he achieved great fame as the champion of all England with
+the quarterstaff.  Will Scarlet after a time came back to his own home,
+whence he had been driven by his unlucky killing of his father's steward.
+The rest of the band did their duty as royal rangers right well.
+But Robin Hood and Allan a Dale did not come again to Sherwood so quickly,
+for thus it was:
+
+Robin, through his great fame as an archer, became a favorite with the King,
+so that he speedily rose in rank to be the chief of all the yeomen.
+At last the King, seeing how faithful and how loyal he was, created him
+Earl of Huntingdon; so Robin followed the King to the wars, and found
+his time so full that he had no chance to come back to Sherwood for even
+so much as a day.  As for Allan a Dale and his wife, the fair Ellen,
+they followed Robin Hood and shared in all his ups and downs of life.
+
+And now, dear friend, you who have journeyed with me in all
+these merry doings, I will not bid you follow me further,
+but will drop your hand here with a "good den," if you wish it;
+for that which cometh hereafter speaks of the breaking up
+of things, and shows how joys and pleasures that are dead
+and gone can never be set upon their feet to walk again.
+I will not dwell upon the matter overlong, but will tell
+as speedily as may be of how that stout fellow, Robin Hood,
+died as he had lived, not at court as Earl of Huntingdon,
+but with bow in hand, his heart in the greenwood, and he himself
+a right yeoman.
+
+King Richard died upon the battlefield, in such a way as properly became
+a lion-hearted king, as you yourself, no doubt, know; so, after a time,
+the Earl of Huntingdon--or Robin Hood, as we still call him as of old--
+finding nothing for his doing abroad, came back to merry England again.
+With him came Allan a Dale and his wife, the fair Ellen, for these two had
+been chief of Robin's household ever since he had left Sherwood Forest.
+
+It was in the springtime when they landed once more on the shores
+of England.  The leaves were green and the small birds sang blithely,
+just as they used to do in fair Sherwood when Robin Hood roamed
+the woodland shades with a free heart and a light heel.
+All the sweetness of the time and the joyousness of everything
+brought back to Robin's mind his forest life, so that a great
+longing came upon him to behold the woodlands once more.
+So he went straightway to King John and besought leave of him
+to visit Nottingham for a short season.  The King gave him leave
+to come and to go, but bade him not stay longer than three days
+at Sherwood.  So Robin Hood and Allan a Dale set forth without
+delay to Nottinghamshire and Sherwood Forest.
+
+The first night they took up their inn at Nottingham Town,
+yet they did not go to pay their duty to the Sheriff,
+for his worship bore many a bitter grudge against Robin Hood,
+which grudges had not been lessened by Robin's rise in the world.
+The next day at an early hour they mounted their horses and set forth
+for the woodlands.  As they passed along the road it seemed to Robin
+that he knew every stick and stone that his eyes looked upon.
+Yonder was a path that he had ofttimes trod of a mellow evening,
+with Little John beside him; here was one, now nigh choked
+with brambles, along which he and a little band had walked
+when they went forth to seek a certain curtal friar.
+
+Thus they rode slowly onward, talking about these old, familiar things;
+old and yet new, for they found more in them than they had ever thought
+of before.  Thus at last they came to the open glade, and the broad,
+wide-spreading greenwood tree which was their home for so many years.
+Neither of the two spoke when they stood beneath that tree.
+Robin looked all about him at the well-known things, so like what they
+used to be and yet so different; for, where once was the bustle of many
+busy fellows was now the quietness of solitude; and, as he looked,
+the woodlands, the greensward, and the sky all blurred together in his sight
+through salt tears, for such a great yearning came upon him as he looked
+on these things (as well known to him as the fingers of his right hand)
+that he could not keep back the water from his eyes.
+
+That morning he had slung his good old bugle horn over his shoulder, and now,
+with the yearning, came a great longing to sound his bugle once more.
+He raised it to his lips; he blew a blast.  "Tirila, lirila,"
+the sweet, clear notes went winding down the forest paths, coming back
+again from the more distant bosky shades in faint echoes of sound,
+"Tirila, lirila, tirila, lirila," until it faded away and was lost.
+
+Now it chanced that on that very morn Little John was walking
+through a spur of the forest upon certain matters of business,
+and as he paced along, sunk in meditation, the faint,
+clear notes of a distant bugle horn came to his ear.
+As leaps the stag when it feels the arrow at its heart,
+so leaped Little John when that distant sound met his ear.
+All the blood in his body seemed to rush like a flame into
+his cheeks as he bent his head and listened.  Again came
+the bugle note, thin and clear, and yet again it sounded.
+Then Little John gave a great, wild cry of yearning, of joy, and yet
+of grief, and, putting down his head, he dashed into the thicket.
+Onward he plunged, crackling and rending, as the wild boar
+rushes through the underbrush.  Little recked he of thorns
+and briers that scratched his flesh and tore his clothing,
+for all he thought of was to get, by the shortest way,
+to the greenwood glade whence he knew the sound of the bugle
+horn came.  Out he burst from the covert, at last, a shower
+of little broken twigs falling about him, and, without pausing
+a moment, rushed forward and flung himself at Robin's feet.
+Then he clasped his arms around the master's knees, and all
+his body was shaken with great sobs; neither could Robin nor
+Allan a Dale speak, but stood looking down at Little John,
+the tears rolling down their cheeks.
+
+While they thus stood, seven royal rangers rushed into the open
+glade and raised a great shout of joy at the sight of Robin;
+and at their head was Will Stutely.  Then, after a while,
+came four more, panting with their running, and two of
+these four were Will Scathelock and Midge, the Miller;
+for all of these had heard the sound of Robin Hood's horn.
+All these ran to Robin and kissed his hands and his clothing,
+with great sound of weeping.
+
+After a while Robin looked around him with tear-dimmed eyes and said,
+in a husky voice, "Now, I swear that never again will I leave these
+dear woodlands.  I have been away from them and from you too long.
+Now do I lay by the name of Robert, Earl of Huntingdon, and take upon me
+once again that nobler title, Robin Hood, the Yeoman."  At this a great
+shout went up, and all the yeomen shook one another's hands for joy.
+
+The news that Robin Hood had come back again to dwell in Sherwood as of old
+spread like wildfire all over the countryside, so that ere a se'ennight
+had passed nearly all of his old yeomen had gathered about him again.
+But when the news of all this reached the ears of King John,
+he swore both loud and deep, and took a solemn vow that he would
+not rest until he had Robin Hood in his power, dead or alive.
+Now there was present at court a certain knight, Sir William Dale,
+as gallant a soldier as ever donned harness.  Sir William Dale
+was well acquainted with Sherwood Forest, for he was head keeper
+over that part of it that lay nigh to good Mansfield Town; so to him
+the King turned, and bade him take an army of men and go straightway
+to seek Robin Hood.  Likewise the King gave Sir William his signet ring
+to show to the Sheriff, that he might raise all his armed men to aid
+the others in their chase of Robin.  So Sir William and the Sheriff
+set forth to do the King's bidding and to search for Robin Hood;
+and for seven days they hunted up and down, yet found him not.
+
+Now, had Robin Hood been as peaceful as of old, everything might have ended
+in smoke, as other such ventures had always done before; but he had fought
+for years under King Richard, and was changed from what he used to be.
+It galled his pride to thus flee away before those sent against him,
+as a chased fox flees from the hounds; so thus it came about, at last,
+that Robin Hood and his yeomen met Sir William and the Sheriff and their
+men in the forest, and a bloody fight followed.  The first man slain
+in that fight was the Sheriff of Nottingham, for he fell from his horse
+with an arrow in his brain ere half a score of shafts had been sped.
+Many a better man than the Sheriff kissed the sod that day, but at last,
+Sir William Dale being wounded and most of his men slain, he withdrew, beaten,
+and left the forest.  But scores of good fellows were left behind him,
+stretched out all stiff beneath the sweet green boughs.
+
+But though Robin Hood had beaten off his enemies in fair fight,
+all this lay heavily upon his mind, so that he brooded over it
+until a fever seized upon him.  For three days it held him,
+and though he strove to fight it off, he was forced to yield at last.
+Thus it came that, on the morning of the fourth day, he called Little John
+to him, and told him that he could not shake the fever from him,
+and that he would go to his cousin, the prioress of the nunnery
+near Kirklees, in Yorkshire, who was a skillful leech, and he would
+have her open a vein in his arm and take a little blood from him,
+for the bettering of his health.  Then he bade Little John make ready
+to go also, for he might perchance need aid in his journeying.
+So Little John and he took their leave of the others, and Robin Hood bade
+Will Stutely be the captain of the band until they should come back.
+Thus they came by easy stages and slow journeying until they reached
+the Nunnery of Kirklees.
+
+Now Robin had done much to aid this cousin of his; for it was through
+King Richard's love of him that she had been made prioress of the place.
+But there is nought in the world so easily forgot as gratitude;
+so, when the Prioress of Kirklees had heard how her cousin,
+the Earl of Huntingdon, had thrown away his earldom and gone back
+again to Sherwood, she was vexed to the soul, and feared lest her
+cousinship with him should bring the King's wrath upon her also.
+Thus it happened that when Robin came to her and told her how he wished
+her services as leech, she began plotting ill against him in her mind,
+thinking that by doing evil to him she might find favor with his enemies.
+Nevertheless, she kept this well to herself and received Robin
+with seeming kindness.  She led him up the winding stone stair
+to a room which was just beneath the eaves of a high, round tower;
+but she would not let Little John come with him.
+
+So the poor yeoman turned his feet away from the door of
+the nunnery, and left his master in the hands of the women.
+But, though he did not come in, neither did he go far away;
+for he laid him down in a little glade near by, where he could
+watch the place that Robin abided, like some great, faithful dog
+turned away from the door where his master has entered.
+
+After the women had gotten Robin Hood to the room beneath the eaves,
+the Prioress sent all of the others away; then, taking a little cord,
+she tied it tightly about Robin's arm, as though she were about
+to bleed him.  And so she did bleed him, but the vein she opened
+was not one of those that lie close and blue beneath the skin;
+deeper she cut than that, for she opened one of those veins
+through which the bright red blood runs leaping from the heart.
+Of this Robin knew not; for, though he saw the blood flow,
+it did not come fast enough to make him think that there was
+anything ill in it.
+
+Having done this vile deed, the Prioress turned and left her cousin,
+locking the door behind her.  All that livelong day the blood ran from
+Robin Hood's arm, nor could he check it, though he strove in every way
+to do so.  Again and again he called for help, but no help came, for his
+cousin had betrayed him, and Little John was too far away to hear his voice.
+So he bled and bled until he felt his strength slipping away from him.
+Then he arose, tottering, and bearing himself up by the palms
+of his hands against the wall, he reached his bugle horn at last.
+Thrice he sounded it, but weakly and faintly, for his breath was fluttering
+through sickness and loss of strength; nevertheless, Little John heard
+it where he lay in the glade, and, with a heart all sick with dread,
+he came running and leaping toward the nunnery.  Loudly he knocked
+at the door, and in a loud voice shouted for them to let him in,
+but the door was of massive oak, strongly barred, and studded with spikes,
+so they felt safe, and bade Little John begone.
+
+Then Little John's heart was mad with grief and fear for his master's life.
+Wildly he looked about him, and his sight fell upon a heavy stone mortar,
+such as three men could not lift nowadays.  Little John took three
+steps forward, and, bending his back, heaved the stone mortar up
+from where it stood deeply rooted.  Staggering under its weight,
+he came forward and hurled it crashing against the door.  In burst
+the door, and away fled the frightened nuns, shrieking, at his coming.
+Then Little John strode in, and never a word said he, but up the winding
+stone steps he ran till he reached the room wherein his master was.
+Here he found the door locked also, but, putting his shoulder against it,
+he burst the locks as though they were made of brittle ice.
+
+There he saw his own dear master leaning against the gray stone wall,
+his face all white and drawn, and his head swaying to and fro
+with weakness.  Then, with a great, wild cry of love and grief and pity,
+Little John leaped forward and caught Robin Hood in his arms.
+Up he lifted him as a mother lifts her child, and carrying him to the bed,
+laid him tenderly thereon.
+
+And now the Prioress came in hastily, for she was frightened at what she
+had done, and dreaded the vengeance of Little John and the others of the band;
+then she stanched the blood by cunning bandages, so that it flowed no more.
+All the while Little John stood grimly by, and after she had done
+he sternly bade her to begone, and she obeyed, pale and trembling.
+Then, after she had departed, Little John spake cheering words,
+laughing loudly, and saying that all this was a child's fright,
+and that no stout yeoman would die at the loss of a few drops of blood.
+"Why," quoth he, "give thee a se'ennight and thou wilt be roaming
+the woodlands as boldly as ever."
+
+But Robin shook his head and smiled faintly where he lay.
+"Mine own dear Little John," whispered he, "Heaven bless
+thy kind, rough heart.  But, dear friend, we will never roam
+the woodlands together again."
+
+"Ay, but we will!" quoth Little John loudly.  "I say again, ay--out upon it--
+who dares say that any more harm shall come upon thee?  Am I not by?  Let me
+see who dares touch"--Here he stopped of a sudden, for his words choked him.
+At last he said, in a deep, husky voice, "Now, if aught of harm befalls thee
+because of this day's doings, I swear by Saint George that the red cock shall
+crow over the rooftree of this house, for the hot flames shall lick every
+crack and cranny thereof.  As for these women"--here he ground his teeth--
+"it will be an ill day for them!"
+
+But Robin Hood took Little John's rough, brown fist in his white hands,
+and chid him softly in his low, weak voice, asking him since what time
+Little John had thought of doing harm to women, even in vengeance.
+Thus he talked till, at last, the other promised, in a choking voice,
+that no ill should fall upon the place, no matter what happened.
+Then a silence fell, and Little John sat with Robin Hood's hand
+in his, gazing out of the open window, ever and anon swallowing
+a great lump that came in his throat.  Meantime the sun dropped
+slowly to the west, till all the sky was ablaze with a red glory.
+Then Robin Hood, in a weak, faltering voice, bade Little John
+raise him that he might look out once more upon the woodlands;
+so the yeoman lifted him in his arms, as he bade, and Robin Hood's
+head lay on his friend's shoulder.  Long he gazed, with a wide,
+lingering look, while the other sat with bowed head, the hot
+tears rolling one after another from his eyes, and dripping upon
+his bosom, for he felt that the time of parting was near at hand.
+Then, presently, Robin Hood bade him string his stout bow for him,
+and choose a smooth fair arrow from his quiver.  This Little John did,
+though without disturbing his master or rising from where he sat.
+Robin Hood's fingers wrapped lovingly around his good bow, and he smiled
+faintly when he felt it in his grasp, then he nocked the arrow on
+that part of the string that the tips of his fingers knew so well.
+"Little John," said he, "Little John, mine own dear friend,
+and him I love better than all others in the world, mark, I prythee,
+where this arrow lodges, and there let my grave be digged.
+Lay me with my face toward the East, Little John, and see that my
+resting place be kept green, and that my weary bones be not disturbed."
+
+As he finished speaking, he raised himself of a sudden and sat upright.
+His old strength seemed to come back to him, and, drawing the bowstring
+to his ear, he sped the arrow out of the open casement.  As the shaft flew,
+his hand sank slowly with the bow till it lay across his knees,
+and his body likewise sank back again into Little John's loving arms;
+but something had sped from that body, even as the winged arrow sped
+from the bow.
+
+For some minutes Little John sat motionless, but presently he laid
+that which he held gently down, then, folding the hands upon the breast
+and covering up the face, he turned upon his heel and left the room
+without a word or a sound.
+
+Upon the steep stairway he met the Prioress and some of the chief
+among the sisters.  To them he spoke in a deep, quivering voice,
+and said he, "An ye go within a score of feet of yonder room, I will
+tear down your rookery over your heads so that not one stone shall
+be left upon another.  Bear my words well in mind, for I mean them."
+So saying, he turned and left them, and they presently saw him
+running rapidly across the open, through the falling of the dusk,
+until he was swallowed up by the forest.
+
+The early gray of the coming morn was just beginning to lighten
+the black sky toward the eastward when Little John and six more
+of the band came rapidly across the open toward the nunnery.
+They saw no one, for the sisters were all hidden away
+from sight, having been frightened by Little John's words.
+Up the stone stair they ran, and a great sound of weeping
+was presently heard.  After a while this ceased, and then
+came the scuffling and shuffling of men's feet as they
+carried a heavy weight down the steep and winding stairs.
+So they went forth from the nunnery, and, as they passed through
+the doors thereof, a great, loud sound of wailing arose from
+the glade that lay all dark in the dawning, as though many men,
+hidden in the shadows, had lifted up their voices in sorrow.
+
+Thus died Robin Hood, at Kirklees Nunnery, in fair Yorkshire,
+with mercy in his heart toward those that had been his undoing;
+for thus he showed mercy for the erring and pity for the weak
+through all the time of his living
+
+His yeomen were scattered henceforth, but no great ill befell them thereafter,
+for a more merciful sheriff and one who knew them not so well succeeding
+the one that had gone, and they being separated here and there throughout
+the countryside, they abided in peace and quietness, so that many lived
+to hand down these tales to their children and their children's children.
+
+A certain one sayeth that upon a stone at Kirklees is an old inscription.
+This I give in the ancient English in which it was written, and thus it runs:
+
+HEAR UNDERNEAD DIS LAITL STEAN LAIS ROBERT EARL OF HUNTINGTUN NEA ARCIR
+VER AS HIE SAE GEUD AN PIPL KAULD IM ROBIN HEUD SICK UTLAWS AS HI AN IS
+MEN VIL ENGLAND NIDIR SI AGEN OBIIT 24 KAL.  DEKEMBRIS 1247.
+
+
+And now, dear friend, we also must part, for our merry journeyings have ended,
+and here, at the grave of Robin Hood, we turn, each going his own way.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Etext of The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood
+
+The inscription on the last page needs to be spell-checked.
+I made the best guess as to what the letters looked like to ME!
+[Charles Keller]
+
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