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GIFT OF

Mrs. S. Einarsson

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THE

MERRY ADVENTURES

ROBIN HOOD

of Great Renown, in Nottinghamshire .
WRITTEN and ILLUSTRATED

By HOWARD PYLE.

\
W

MDCCCLXXXIU.

NEW YORK-.

Printed by CHARLES SCR IBNER'S SONS
A^.743^74 5 Broadway, and sold by same

From the Author to the Reader.

rO U who so plod amid serious things that you feel it shame to give
yourself tip even for a few short moments to mirth and joyous-
ness 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 Lions Heart. Beside
these ihere are a whole host of knights, priests, nobles, burghers, yeo
men, pages, ladies, lasses, landlords, beggars, pedlers, 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.

viii PREFACE.

Here you will find a hundred dull, sober, jogging places, all tricked
out with jlowers 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 Fairy-land. 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 every-day 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.

PROLOGUE.

Robin Hood sets forth to the shooting-match at Nottingham Town —
Meets the Kings foresters feasting in the forest — The foresters mock
him — He slays a deer upon a wager — The foresters drive him away
— He slays one of them — He seeks refuge in the forest, where many
others join with him — Robin Hood sets forth to seek adventure —
Meets a stranger at a bridge — They fight upon tJte bridge — Robin
Hood is overthrown — He calls his merry men, who overcome the stran
ger — Robin Hood shoots a match with the stranger, whom he van
quishes — The stranger joins the band — The stranger is christened in
the forest and thenceforth called Little John . . i

PART FIRST.

Chapter I.

The Sheriff of Nottingham sends a messenger to Lincoln — The mes
senger meets a Tinker — The Tinker sets forth to seek Robin Hood —
Meets Robin Hood, but does not know him — Robin makes the Tin
ker drunk at the Blue Boar Inn — Robin steals his warrant — The
Tinker meets Robin in the forest — They fight — The Tinker joins the
band ........... 13

Chapter II.

The Sheriff of Nottingham goes to London to see King Henry — The
King chides him — The Sheriff returns to Nottingham Town — He
proclaims a grand shooting-match — Robin and his band go to the shoot
ing-match in disguise — The fine sight at Nottingham — The tattered

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

stranger in scarlet wins the golden arrow — Robin Hood sends a mes
sage of victory to tlie Sheriff . . . . . . -25

Chapter III.

Robin and his Band lie hidden in the forest — He sends Will Stutely
to seek news of the Sheriff's doings — Will Stutely is discovered and
captured — News is brought to Robin Hood — Robin and his men set
forth to rescue Will Stutely. An aged Palmer gives young David of
Doncaster news of Stutely — Little John cuts Will Stutely s bonds —
Robin Hood and his Band overcome the Sheriff's men and bring Will
Stutely off with ttiem . • . . . ." .34

PART SECOND.

Chapter I.

Robin Hood meets a jolly young Butcher — He buys the Butchers
meat — Robin sells his meat merrily in Nottingham Town — The
Butchers Guild invite Robin to their great dinner — The Sheriff of
Nottingham is pleased with Robin — He barters with Robin for his
hornel beasts — The Sheriff accompanies Robin to the forest — Robin
Hood feasts the Sheriff in Sherwood Forest — The Sheriff pays dearly
for his meal. .......... 47

Chapter II.

Little John goes to the Fair at Nottingham Town — He treats all
the people to ale — He dances with the maidens — Little John fights
with and overcomes Eric o Lincoln — He wins the prize with the long
bow — He enters the Sheriff ^s service . . . . . 57

TABLE OF CONTENTS. xi

Chapter III.

Little John tires of the Sheriffs service — The Sheriff's Steward
refuses Little John his breakfast — Little John smites the Steward —
The Steward calls upon the Cook to help him — The Cook and Little
John have a merry feast together — The Cook and Little John have a
mighty battle — Little John persuades the Cook to join the Band —
The Cook and Little John steal the Sheriff^ s silver plate — Little John
returns to Robin Hood — Robin Hood chides Little John for stealing
the plate — Little John brings the Sheriff to Sherwood — Robin Hood
gives the Sheriff his plate again, and leads him out of the forest 65

PART THIRD.

Chapter I.

Robin Hood sends Little John on a mission to Ancaster — Little
John tarries by the way at the Blue Boar Inn — Little John sets forth
once more upon his mission — He meets Arthur a Bland — Robin
Hood, seeking Little John to chide him, hears the combat — He looks on
unperceived — Arthiira Bland overcomes Little John — Robin Hood
discovers himself and mocks at Little John — Robin Hood, Little John,
and Arthur a Bland set forth once more to Ancaster . . 79

Chapter II.

The three yeomen rest by the wayside — Robin Hood stops a stranger
in scarlet — Robin Hood fights the stranger — He is overcome — Little

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

John and Arthur a Bland interfere — Robin Hood finds the stranger
to be his nephew — Will Scarlet tells his story — Little John galls
Robin Hood . . • ..... . . . 88

Chapter III.

A merry feast by the roadside — The four yeomen stop the Miller —
The Miller plays a cunning trick upon them — He beats all four of
them — Midge, the Millers son^ joins the band — TJiey all return to
the forest . .... . • 98

PART FOURTH.

Chapter I.

Robin Hood sends Will Stutely and six of the band to seek some one
to dine with him in the forest — They find only a sorrowful minstrel —
Allan a Dale tells his story — Robin Hood swears by this and by that
to aid him^ and bring him to his own true love — Will Scarlet tells
Robin Hood of the curtal Friar — Allan a Dale sings before Robin
and the band — Allan a Dale joins the band . . . . 115

Chapter II.

Robin Hood and certain others set forth to seek the Friar of Foun
tain dale — Robin sees a stranger feasting merrily beneath a bank —
Robin joins in the strangers song — The stout Brother carries Robin
across the water — Robin carries the stout Brother back again — Robin

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

gets a ducking — Robin and the curtal Friar fight a mighty battle —
77/6' Friar gives Robin Hood leave to blow upon his bugle horn —
Robin Hood gives the Friar leave to blow upon his whistle — Will
Scarlet meets four old friends — Tlie curtal Friar goes back to Sher
wood with the yeomen . . . . . . . . 128

Chapter III.

Robin puts on a strange garb — Robin and a score of his band,
together with Friar Tuck and Allan a Dale, go to the little church in
Rother Dale — Robin will not harp at the Bishop of Hereford's bid
ding — Robin stays the marriage — Robin gives Ellens father a goodly
marriage portion — The Bishop giveth the bride a wedding-gift — Friar
Tuck joins the band 143

PART FIFTH.

Chapter I.

Robin Hood and Little John set forth each to seek a guest to dine
with them — Robin stops a sorrowful Knight — He brings the Knight
into the forest — The Knight tells his story — Robin finds the Bishop
of Hereford in the forest — Robin shows his skill as an archer — A
forest feast — The Bishop finds money to pay the Knighfs dues —
The band give fair presents to the Knight — Little John goes with
the Knight from the forest— The Bishop of Hereford abides three
days with Robin Hood

xiv TABLE OF CONTENTS.

Chapter II.

Sir Richard of the Lea pays his debts to the Prior of Emmet —
Sir Richard saves the life of a young yeoman — Sir Richard comes
back to Sherwood to pay his dues — Sir Richard brings a fair present
to Robin Hood from himself and his good Lady . . . 171

PART SIXTH.

Chapter I.

Robin Hood and Little John set forth from the forest in search of
adventure — Little John as a barefoot friar meets three fair lasses —
Little John shows his wit and carries three baskets of eggs at once —
Little John meets three merry wags — Little John travels with two
holy friars — Little John and the friars pray to some purpose 187

Chapter II.

Robin Hood meets a beggar on a stile — Robin has both a feast and
a fight — Robin Hood comes upon four stout beggars — Robin Hood
overcomes the beggars and gets richly paid for his pains — Robin meets
a Corn Engrosser near the cross at Ollerton — The Corn Engrosser
tells a misplaced secret to Robin Hood ..... 200

TABLE OF CONTENTS. xv

PART SEVENTH.

Chapter I.

The Queen sends for Robin Hood to come to London — Robin Hood
sets forth with three of his merry men — Allan a Dale sings before
the Queen — The Queen lays a wager with the King at the famous
archery bout at Finsbury Fields — The King gives a pledge — Robin
Hood and Little John win their prizes, whilst Will Scarlet loses his —
The Queen sends Robin Hood a warning . . . . . 219

Chapter II.

The Bishop of Hereford stirs iip the Kings wrath against Robin
Hood — Will Scarlet, Little John, and Allan a Dale get back to Sher
wood — Robin has a narrow miss of losing his life — He escapes from
the Kings men — He changes clothes with a cobbler — Robin Hood has
a strange bedfellow — He changes clothes with a friar — Sir Richard
of the Lea brings Robin Hood to London — Robin Hood throws himself
on the Queens mercy — He gets safely back to Sherwood Forest 235

PART EIGHTH.

Chapter I.

Robin Hood meets with a strange fellow in Sherwood — Guy of
Gisbourne tells Robin Hood his story — Robin outshoots Guy of Gis-

xvi TABLE OF CONTENTS.

bourne — Robin Hood slays Guy of Gisbourne — Robin Hood puts on
Guy of Gisbourne s clothes — The Widow tells Little John her story —
Little John sets the Widow s three sons free — The Sheriff of Notting
ham takes Little John — Robin Hood rescues Little John — The Sheriff
carries something away with him that he did not want . . 255

Chapter II.

King Richard of the Lions Heart comes to Nottingham — Sir
Henry of the Lea tells a merry tale — The King and six others go into
the forest disguised as friars — Robin Hood stops the King in the
forest — Robin Hood misses the mark — Robin Hood gets more than
he bargained for — Sir Richard of the Lea comes to give Robin Hood
warning of danger — The King pardons Sir Richard and Robin Hood
and all the yeomen — Robin Hood leaves Sherwood — He becomes Earl
of Huntingdon ......... 270

Epilogue.

Robin Hood returns to Sherwood Forest — Sir William Dale is sent
against him — The Kings and Robin Hood's men have a mighty battle
in the woodlands — The Sheriff of Nottingham is slain — Robin
Hood falls sick, and goes to his cousin, the Prioress of Kirklees, to be
bled — His cousin betrays him — Little John comes to Robin Hood
through bolts and bars — Robin Hood shoots his last shaft — Robin
Hoods epitaph . . . . . . . . 288

ILLV5TRATIONS

Ornament for Fly-Leaf.

The merry Friar carrieth Robin across the Water. — Frontispiece.

Ornamented Title.

PAGE

Head-Piece — Preface • » » » . vii

Tail-Piece — Preface ........

Head-Piece — Table of Contents
Head-Piece — List of Illustrations
Tail-Piece — List of Illustrations

vin

xvn

Robin Hood meeteth the tall Stranger on the Bridge . . xxii
Head-Piece — Prologue ........ i

Young Robin goes to the Shooting-Match.

Tail-Piece — Prologue . „

xviii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Robin and the Tinker at the Blue Boar Inn . . . .12

Head-Piece — Part /. . • 13

The Sheriff of Nottingham sends a Messenger to Lincoln.

The Sheriff of Nottingham cometh before the King at London 24

The aged Palmer gives young David of Doncaster news of
Will Stutely . . . ; . .' > . . . .39

Tail-Piece — Part /. . . -. , . . . . « 44

Robin turns Butcher and sells his meat in Nottingham . 46
Head-piece — Part II. . . . . . , . • 47

Robin buys the Butcher's meat.

Little John overcomes Eric o' Lincoln ..... 62
The mighty Fight betwixt Little John and the Cook . . 72

The stout Bout between Little John and Arthur a Bland . 78
Head-Piece — Part III. 79

Little John knoiveth not which Road to take.

Merry Robin stops a Stranger in Scarlet . . . .91
The four Yeomen have merry sport with a stout Miller . 108

TaiLPiece — Part II 7.

112

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. xix

Allan a Dale lieth beside the Fountain . . . . .114
Head-Piece — Part IV. . . 115

Allan a Dale tells his Story.

The merry Friar sings a goodly Song 137

Robin Hood steps betwixt Sir Stephen and his Bride . . 149

Tail-Piece — Part IV. . . 154

Merry Robin stops a sorrowful Knight . . . . .156
Head-Piece — Part V. 157

The young Knight of the Lea overcomes the Knight of Lancaster,

Sir Richard pleadeth before the Prior of Emmet . . 175

Tail-Piece — Part V. . . 1 84

Little John in the guise of a Friar stops three Lasses . .186
Head-Piece Part VL !§7

Little John journeys in Holy Company.

Merry Robin clad as a Beggar stops the Corn Engrosser by

the Cross nigh Ollerton 211

Tail-Piece — Part VI. . . 216

Allan a Dale singeth before our good Queen Eleanor . .218
Head-Piece — Part VII. . . . . . . . .219

Young Richard Partington.cometh to seek merry Robin Hood.

xx LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Stout Robin hath a narrow Escape . . .242

Tail-Piece — Part VII. . . . . ' • • . . 252

Robin Hood slayeth Guy of Gisbourne . .254

Head-Piece — Part VI II. . . . .255

Robin and Little John go their ways in search of Adventure.

Merry Robin hath the worst of a Bargain . 280

Tail-Piece — Part VIII. . . . . . . . .285

Robin shooteth his last Shaft . .288

Head-Piece — Epilogue . . ..- - • * '. « 289

So y* Great Reaper reapeth among the Flowers.

Tail-Piece - . . . 296

Robin Hood-meeteth- tne-ta
Stranger-on-the- Bridj

PROLOGUE

Giving an account of Robin Hood and his adventure with the Kings
foresters. Also telling how his Band gathered around him ; and of
the merry adventure that gained him his good right-hand man, the
famous Little John.

N 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 mer
rily they dwelt 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 Octo
ber brewing.

Not only Robin himself but all the band were outlaws and dwelt 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 first came about that Robin Hood fell afoul of the
law.

2 PROLOGUE.

When Robin was a youth of eighteen, stout of sinew and bold of heart, the
The Sheriff pro- Sheriff of Nottingham proclaimed a shooting-match and offered a
daimetha shoot- prize of a butt of ale to whomsoever should shoot the best shaft

Robin Hood g+ in Nottinghamshire. "Now," quoth Robin, "will I go too, for
eth with his bow, £ain WQuld j draw a string for the bright eyes Of my lasg> 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 Locks-
ley Town through Sherwood Forest to Nottingham.

It was at the dawn of day in the merry May-time, 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 house
wives 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
He meeteth the suddenly upon some foresters seated beneath a great oak tree.
Fifteen there were in all, making themselves merry with feast-
ing 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 bar
rel 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 far
thing 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 thine ; 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 prat-
est of standing up with good stout men at Nottingham butts, thou who art
scarce able to draw one string of a two stone bow."

PROLOGUE. 3

"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 '11 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 Robin kilieih a
arrow, and, raising the bow, drew the gray goose-feather to his hart of the herd.
ear ; the next moment the bow-string 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, "howlikest 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, straight
way, or, by all the saints of heaven, I '11 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 quaff
ing. 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.

4 PROLOGUE.

It was well for Robin Hood that that same forester's head was spinning with
A forester shoot- a^e» or else ne would never have taken another step ; as it was,
eth at Robin ^e arrow whistled within three inches of his head. Then he

Hood, ana is by

Robin slain 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

Robin Hoold be- an^ lasses of sweet Locksley Town ; for he was outlawed, not only

cometh an out- because he had killed a man, but also because he had poached

law.

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 tfyis 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 winter time,
when they could get no other food, and had been seen in the act by the fores
ters, 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 power
ful esquire, — all, for one cause or another, had come to Sherwood to escape
wrong and oppression.

PROLOGUE. 5

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 Robin

they vowed that even as they themselves had been despoiled they finding himself

J. J . «... outlawed, doth

would despoil their oppressors, whether baron, abbot, knight, or gather a land
squire, and that from each they would take that which had been about him'
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. Beside 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 them
selves.

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 eth forth to seek
leaped laughing from stone to stone. Then said Robin : " For adventure-
fourteen days have we seen no sport, so now I will go abroad to seek adven
tures 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 high
way 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 thine own self, for the bet
ter man, I wot, am I."

6 PROLOGUE.

" That will we presently see," quoth Robin ; " and meanwhile stand thou
where thou art, or else, by the bright brow of Saint ^Elfrida, 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 stand-
est 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 flaw, and six feet in length, and came back trim
ming 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
Telling of the mer- did these two. In a moment Robin stepped quickly upon the
TRobiti ^loS'and bridge where the stranger stood ; first he made a feint, and then
ike tall stranger, 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

PROLOGUE. 7

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 re
ceived by each in that time, till here and there were sore bones and bumps, yet
neither thought of crying " Enough," or 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 quarter-staff. 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 -pke stran er
thwacked Robin, and this time so fairly that he fell heels over overcometh. mer-
head into the water, as the queen pin falls in a game of bowls.

" And where art thou now, 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 trow, 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 cudgelling 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 ! "

8 PROLOGUE.

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

Robin asketh the ,

stranger to join hark ye, good youth, wilt thou stay with me and be one of my
fus band. 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 forescore yards dis
tant 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 bow
strings."

Then he chose the stoutest bow amongst them all, next to Robin's own, and
shooteth a straight gray goose shaft, well-feathered and smooth, and step-
i * teatcth P*n& to tne mar^ — while all the band, sitting or lying upon the
him. 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 centre. " 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 yeo
men 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

PROLOGUE. 9

will I be thy man henceforth and for aye. Good Adam Bell l was a fair shot,
but never shot he so ! "

" 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 stran
ger," said he, "I like not thy name and fain would I have it The stranger

T . i .,. . ni-i ••• joineth the band

otherwise. Little art thou indeed, and small of bone and smew, and is christened

therefore shalt thou be christened Little John, and I will be thy
godfather." John.

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 fit-
teth thee well. Little John shall thou be called henceforth, and Little John
shall it be. So come, my merry men, and we will go and 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 dwelt 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 Hood 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 ? " HOW that Little
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."

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.

10 PROLOGUE.

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 Lin
coln 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 Not
tingham three times sought to take Robin Hood, and how he failed each time.

iends-a-messinger-to-L incoln I

PART FIRST.

Telling how the Sheriff of Nottingham swore that he would deal dole to
Robin Hood. Also, how he made three trials thereat, but missed each
time by a good bow's length.

Robin Hood and the Tinker.

OW it was told before how two hundred pounds were set
upon Robin Hood's head, and how the Sheriff of Notting
ham 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 Sher
wood, 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 any one who would serve this The Sheriff seeks
warrant. But men of Nottingham Town knew more of Robin to serve a ™ar

rani upon Koom

Hood and his doings than the Sheriff did, and many laughed to Hood, but can
think of serving a warrant upon the bold outlaw, knowing well that tfngham *t" wwe-
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 whomsoever 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

14 ROBIN HOOD AND THE TINKER.

not the force that Robin Hood has about him and how little he cares for war
rant 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

Tne Sheriff send- J

£th a messenger whether he could find any one there that would do his bidding, and
wn' 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
He meeteth ood tnat sna^ed the greensward in front of the door. There was a
Company at the tinker, two barefoot friars, and a party of six of the King's for
esters all clad in Lincoln green, and all them were quaffing hum
ming 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 to-day ? "

The messenger was a chatty soul and loved a bit of gossip dearly ; beside

ROBIN HOOD AND THE TINKER. 15

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 fores
ter, 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 levy
ing toll on fat abbot, knight, and esquire, so that none dare travel even on
broad Watling Street or the Foss Way for fear of him ; how that the Sheriff,
Heaven save his worship, who paid him, the messenger, sixpence every Satur
day night, of good broad money stamped with the King's head, beside ale at
Michaelmas and a fat goose at Christmas-tide, had a mind to serve the king's
warrant upon this same rogue, though little would he mind either warrant of
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, and whether there were any there that dared serve this same warrant ;
wherefore was he now sitting among the prettiest lads he had ever known, and
the ale was the best ale he had tasted in all his life.

To this discourse they listened with open mouths and eyes, for it was a fair
piece of gossip to them. Then when the messenger had done the jolly Tinker
broke silence.

" Now come I, forsooth, from good Banbury Town," said he, " 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 Crab-
staff, 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 Nottingham
shire, I will so bruise, beat, and bemaul his pate, that he shall never move fin
ger or toe again ! Hear ye that, bully boys ? Come, let us have another
bout."

" 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."

1 6 ROBIN HOOD AND THE TINKER,

" 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 war
rant 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,
The Tinker and my cudgel. Ay, let me but meet this same Robin Hood,
Messenger to' anc* ^et me see whether he will not mind the King's warrant."
serve the war- So, after having paid their score, the messenger, with the Tinker

rant upon Robin .......... . . . ,._ . .

Hood. striding beside his nag, started back to Nottingham again.

One bright morning soon after this time, Robin Hood started off to Notting
ham 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.

" / 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, thine 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."

"Then let us be good friends," quoth jolly Robin, "for ill would it be to be
ill, and ill like I thine oaken staff full well to make it but well, so good friends
let us be."

"Ay, marry, then let us be," said the Tinker. " But, good youth, thy tongue
runneth so nimbly that my poor and heavy wits can but ill follow it, so talk
more plainly, I pray, for I am a plain man, forsooth."

ROBIN HOOD AND THE TINKER. 17

" 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 Tin
ker, " for thou speakest but ill of good men. But sad news is it 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 Jew."

" 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 TJie Tinker

eg0" of meat." goethwith Robin

Hood to the sign

" Now I love thee as my brother, my bully blade, said the Tin- of the Blue
ker, " else I would not tell thee my news ; for sly am I, man, and Boar'
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 do I somewhat," quoth Robin, "and I have seen him this

1 8 ROBIN HOOD AND THE TINKER.

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, like mine."

" 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
Robin promiseth whether it be good or no."

totf******* " That wil1 l not do> even to mine own brother>" answered the
he seeketh. Tinker. " No man shall see my warrant till I serve it upon yon

fellow's own body."

" So be it," quoth Robin. " An 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 hum
ming ale ; nor, in winter time, 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 l 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 swal
low 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

1 Small sour apples.

ROBIN HOOD AND THE TINKER. 19

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.

" 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 Kobin Hood
know, and that brewed by Withold of Tarn worth." So saying, ^f^J^
he went within and whispered to the host to add a measure of sign of the Blue
Flemish strong waters to the good English ale ; which the latter muddle" him
did and brought it to them. with ale-

" 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 'r 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," The Tinker fall-
quoth he, " but not yet, I trow, art thou as sly as that same sly ^o^fteai^ti.

thief, Robin Hood." the warrant.

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."

20 ROBIN HOOD AND THE TINKER.

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
The Tinker l°n£ beside the woodland edge, then he awoke. First he looked
awaketh, and the Up} then he looked down, then he looked east, then he looked

landlord maketh . . .

him pay the score west, for he was gathering his wits together, like barley-straws

"hTeth Scoafabae blown aPart bv the wind- First he thought of his merry compan-
and hammer ; ion, but he was gone. Then he thought of his stout crabstaff,
^owettfvenge'ance and that he had within his hand. Then of his warrant, and of the
against Robin. 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 crafts
man, 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 cus
tomer 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."

ROBIN HOOD AND THE TINKER. 21

" 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 have 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 Foss 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 The Tinker meet
walked up a forest path, whistling, down another path came the tth Robin Hood
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

22 ROBIN HOOD AND THE TINKER.

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 Netting.
ham, 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, beside twenty 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
The Tinker join- life, and I love thee, good master, though thou didst thwack my
eth the band. rj^s ancj cheat; me jnto 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.

II.

The Shooting-Match at Nottingham Town,

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 peo- The Sheriff is
pie laughed at him and made a jest of his thinking to serve wroth-
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 He maketll him
Nottingham glowed red far into the night like twinkling stars, for ready to go to
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 sun
light, 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 Elinor 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,
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."

110 The Sheriff seeth
US the King.

26 THE SHOOTING-MATCH AT NOTTINGHAM TOWN.

" 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
The King is d° ? Comest thou not to me with a great array of men-at-arms
wroth. an(j 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 Notting
hamshire ? Canst thou not take thine own course against those that break
the laws or do an 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
The Sheriff rued his fine show of retainers, for he saw that the King was
getuth him home. 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 any one, 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 speed
ily 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 Jew 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 Notting
ham 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 over-persuaded by his spirit to come to the

THE SHOOTING-MATCH AT NOTTINGHAM TOWN. 27

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, The Sheriff pro-
hamlet, and countryside, this grand shooting-match, and every claimeth a skoot-

1-11.1 111 11 • ing-match at

one was bidden that could draw a long bow, and the prize was to Nottingham
be an arrow of pure beaten gold. Town.

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 Lin
coln Town to-day. Our friend the Sheriff of Nottingham hath Robin keareth of
proclaimed a shooting-match, and hath sent messengers to tell ^atch'an'/fixeth
of it through all the country side, and the prize is to be a bright t°g° thereunto,
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 seven-
score 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 tin
kers, 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.

28 . THE SHOOTING-MATCH AT NOTTINGHAM TOWN.

A fair sight was Nottingham Town on the day of the shooting-match. All
The merr match a^onS uP°n the green meadow beneath the town wall stretched a
at Nottingham 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 gar
lands of flowers, for the Sheriff of Nottingham and his dame. The range was
two score 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. Al
ready, 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 cur
veted gayly 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 were such a company of yeomen as were gathered at Not
tingham 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 long bow 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

THE SHOOTING-MATCH AT NOTTINGHAM TOWN. 29

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 gentle
folk ; 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 folk 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 fair
est 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 amongst 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 The archers
clout, four within the black, and only two smote the outer ring ; shoot-
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' Hert
ford. Two others were yeomen of merry Yorkshire, another was a tall stran
ger 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 amongst those ten ? "

30 THE SHOOTING-MATCH AT NOTTINGHAM TOWN.

" 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 tat
tered 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 marvellous 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 long bow
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' Tam
worth !" 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 breadth from the centre. " 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
He of the tattered saw a ye^ow patch that showed beneath his arm when he raised
garb beateth Gill 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 centre 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 ! "

THE SHOOTING-MATCH AT NOTTINGHAM TOWN. 31

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 centre, 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 centre.

" Well done, Gilbert ! " cried the Sheriff, right joyously. "Fain am I to be
lieve the prize is thine, and right fairly won. Now, thou ragged knave, let me
see thee shoot a better shaft than that."

Naught 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 Thestran er in
wonder what he would do. Meanwhile, also, quite still stood the scarlet winneth
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 stran
ger's arrow lodged close beside his of the red cap, and in the very centre.
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, whilst
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 trow. What may be thy name, and whence comest
thou ? "

" Men do call me Jock o' Teviotdale, and thence am I come," said the stran
ger.

" Then, by Our Lady, Jock, thou art the fairest archer that e'er mine eyes be
held, 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
Christmas-tide fourscore marks shall be thy wage. I trow thou drawest better

32 THE SHOOTING-MATCH AT NOTTINGHAM TOWN.

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
Robin and his *n Sherwood's depths that same day. A score and more of bare-
band come again foot 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 amongst 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 to-day, ' 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
Robin Hood Town. Long tables stood down the hall, at which sat men-at-
Jjfjii**' arms and household servants and good stout villains,1 in all four-
Skeriff. score 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.

"By my troth," said he, "I did reckon full roundly that that knave, Robin
Hood, would be at the game to-day. I did not think that he was such a coward.

1 Bond-servants.

THE SHOOTING-MATCH AT NOTTINGHAM TOWN.

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 awhile one of the men-at-arms gathered courage enough to pick it up and
bring it to the Sheriff. Then every one 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.

III.

Will Stutely rescued by his Good Compan
ions.

N" OW 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
The Sheriff try- myself into such a coil ; but now I must either take him captive
etRobinCand<hisSt or nave wratn visited upon my head from his most gracious Maj-
band. esty. 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 lay 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 beside, 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 women folk 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

WILL STUTELY RESCUED BY HIS GOOD COMPANIONS. 35

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 Robin and his

... . • i • ,,1 t band abide with-

scoff throughout the countryside, saying that we tear to meet /« Sherwood

these men." But they said nothing aloud, swallowing their
words, and doing as Robin bade them. selves.

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 can
not all go, so I will choose one from amongst 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 amongst 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 Will Stutely Co
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 Doings.
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 medita
tion. 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 Sheriff's men drinking
right lustily ; so, without speaking to any one, he sat down upon He cometh unto
a distant bench, his staff in his hand, and his head bowed forward the good Sign of
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

36 WILL STUTELY RESCUED BY HIS GOOD COMPANIONS.

down again, but the constable who commanded the Sheriff's 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
The constable sus- friar of orders gray, and also, I wot, no honest yeoman goeth
pitioneth him. about in priest's garb, nor doth a thief go so for naught. 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 him
self, " 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
t and *n a^ tnat ngnt> ^or Stutely, parrying the blow right deftly, smote

Will Stutely is 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. But it was a doleful
day's doings for two of that band ; for the constable was sorely wounded, and
the other, that Stutely smote upon the crown, lay sick for many a day ere he
was the stout man that he had been before this famous fight.

Robin Hood stood under the greenwood tree, thinking of Will Stutely and

WILL STUTELY RESCUED BY HIS GOOD COMPANIONS. 37

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 The news is
Maken of the Blue Boar. Then Robin's heart fell, for he knew brought to Robin

. ....... ,. Hood.

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 Notting
ham Town, and ere I left the Blue Boar I heard that he should be hanged to
morrow day."

" He shall not be hanged to-morrow 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 Robin Hood call-
until sevenscore bold blades were gathered around him. eth his merry

, , ,, ,, • •• T-» i • f^ men about him.

"Now hark you all! cried Robin. "Our dear companion,
Will Stutely, hath been taken by that vile Sheriff's men, therefore doth it be
hoove 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.

" Now," quoth Robin again, " if there be any here that care not to risk life
and limb, let them bide within Sherwood shades, for I constrain no man to my
will ; but to-morrow I will bring Will Stutely back or I will die with him."

Then up spake stout Little John. " Thinkest thou, good master," he said,
" that there be one among us all that would not risk life and limb for fellow in
trouble ? If such there be, then do not I know every man in this company of
stout yeomen. And, moreover, if there be such, I wot he should be stripped
and beaten from out our merry woodlands. Is it not so, good friends ? "

Then all cried, " Ay ! " again, for there was not one man amongst them all
that would not venture everything for a friend in need.

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 : —

38 WILL STUTELY RESCUED BY HIS GOOD COMPANIONS.

" 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

Robin and his ./

men come to Not- Stutely, on from the Sheriff s clutches.

%$*£*/*%?£+ So they lay hidden a long time, until the sun stood high in the
bush till that they sky. The day was warm and the dusty road was bare of travel
lers, except an aged palmer who walked slowly along the high
road 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 Not
tingham, 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 gal
lant 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 money-bags. 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, that, 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 him
self.

WILL STUTELY RESCUED BY HIS GOOD COMPANIONS. 41

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 : David of Don-

" Now let us get straightway into Nottingham Town, and mix caster brings
ourselves with the people there ; but keep ye one another in sight, stutely

pressing as near the prisoner and his guards as ye can, when *"**' Hood*
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 cas
tle 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. Pres
ently 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, rid
ing 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 WM stutely
wounded man though I be, I will fight thee and all thy men till a*]?eth.lh?

J Sheriff for a

life and strength be gone." sword to fight

" Nay, thou naughty varlet," quoth the Sheriff, turning his head ™he sheriff will
and looking right grimly upon Will Stutely, "thou shalt have no not give him.
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 wm stutely
thee thou shalt pay dearly for this day's work ! He doth scorn ratiethatthe
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

42 WILL STUTELY RESCUED BY HIS GOOD COMPANIONS.

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 fulness 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, crowd
ing 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-
Littiejohn com- arms so as to reach the cart, and Stutely saw that it was Little
eth to the rescue 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 com
pany." 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 1 Take him, I bid you all, and let him not go ! "

WILL STUTELY RESCUED BY HIS GOOD COMPANIONS. 43

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 thy
self, 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 Robin Hood and
inch of the Sheriff's head. Then there came a swaying hither Jj£5j3£
and thither and oaths and cries and groans and clashing of steel, iff'* men.
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." And 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

WILL STUTELY RESCUED BY HIS GOOD COMPANIONS.

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 hap
pened that day.

Robin- turns- butcher-and-
jells-his-meat.in-Nottingham;

W ^ ^ • .^ ^» VJ ^i

PART SECOND.

In which shall be told how Robin Hood turned Butcher, and how he
revenged himself upon the Sheriff. Also, of the famous adventures
that befel Little John at the Nottingham Archery Match, and how
he entered the Sheriff's service.

' j -.,:-. - : •: , :

Robin Hood turns Butcher.

OW 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 mean time Robin Hood and his band lived quietly in Sherwood

Forest, without showing their faces abroad, for Robin knew that ffffw Rgbin and

it would not be wise for him to be seen in the neighborhood of his Band dwelt

. , -P, -within Sher-

Nottingham, those in authority being very wroth with him. But W0od Forest for
though they did not go abroad, they lived a merry life within the ayear-
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 :

48 ROBIN HOOD TURNS BUTCHER.

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 dwelt for nearly a year, and in that time Robin Hood often turned

h over in his mind many means of making an even score with the

forth to seek Sheriff. At last he began to fret at his confinement : so one dav

d * TT

he took UP his stout cudgel and set forth to seek adventure, stroll

er and buyeth mg 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 mar
ket, 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 Notting
hamshire ? 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, good friend, 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 ought 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 all 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

ROBIN HOOD TURNS BUTCHER. 49

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, climb
ing into the cart, he took the reins in his hand, and drove off through the for
est to Nottingham Town.

When he came to Nottingham, he entered that part of the market where
butchers stood, and took up his inn l in the best place he could Robin selleth his
find. Next, he opened his stall and spread his meat upon the meat in Notting-
bench, then, taking his cleaver and steel and clattering them to
gether, he trolled aloud, in merry tones : —

" 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 daisies pied,
And the violet sweet, and the daffodil
That grow fair streams beside.

" And beef have I from the heathery wolds,

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
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, shout
ing 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

A * Stand for selling.

50 ROBIN HOOD TURNS BUTCHER.

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 good wife 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
Thebutchersdo some thief who has stolen cart, horse, and meat;" but others
talk of Robin ^^ "Nay, when did ye ever see a thief who parted with his
ttumZOZ? 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
S«1f£r*' one trade, so wilt thou go dine with us ? For this day the Sheriff
•with them at the fath asked all the Butcher Guild to feast with him at the Guild
Sfjf^& Hall. There will be stout fare and much to drink, and that thou
them' likest, or I much mistake thee."

"Now, beshrewhis 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
The Sheriff mak- dress, and made him sit close to him on his right hand; for he
£Rob?n'C/l °f loved a rich young prodigal — especially when he thought that he

ROBIN HOOD TURNS BUTCHER. 5!

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 get-
teth 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

52 ROBIN HOOD TURNS BUTCHER.

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."
Robin bargain- " Nay," answered the Sheriff, slowly, and as if he were thinking
eth to sell five within himself ; "well do I love thee, and fain would I help thee

hundred horned . i . £ i j j j • • •> ,

beasts to the along, but five hundred pounds in money is a good round sum ;
Sheriff. beside 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 Jew ! " 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 cried, 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 them
selves 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
The Sheriff Robin Hood, who stood outside the gateway of the paved court
^Hoodtosefhis" waiting for him, for he had sold his horse and cart to a trader for
homed beasts. two marks. Then they set forth upon their way, the Sheriff rid
ing upon his horse and Robin running beside him. Thus they left Nottingham
Town and travelled forward along .the dusty highway, laughing and jesting to
gether as though they had been old friends ; but all the time the Sheriff said

ROBIN HOOD TURNS BUTCHER. 53

within himself, " Thy jest to me of Robin Hood shall cost thee dear, good fel
low, 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 For
est, 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 travelled 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 a while, 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 com
pany to feast with us to-day ? 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 to-day by coming to feast with us."

Then all doffed their hats humbly, without smiling, or seeming to be in jest,
whilst 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 depth of Sherwood his heart sank within him, for he thought, " Surely

54 ROBIN HOOD TURNS BUTCHER.

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
The Sheriff com- ye, my merry men all," quoth he, "and bring forth the best we

too°dlreegan7is have' both of meat and wine/for his worship, the Sheriff, hath
feasted there. feasted me in Nottingham Guild Hall to-day, 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, whilst 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.
They play games First> several couples stood forth at quarters taff, and so shrewd
before the Sher- 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 the best archers of the band set up a fair garland of flowers at eight-
score paces distance, and shot at it with the cunningest archery practice. But
the Sheriff grew grave, for he did not like this so well, the famous meeting at
the butts in Nottingham Town being still green in his memory, and the golden
arrow that had been won there hanging close behind him. Then, when Robin
saw what was in the Sheriff's mind, he stopped the sport, and called forth some
of his band, who sang merry ballads, while others made music upon the harp.

When this was done, 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,
The Sheriff with drinking-horns about them. Then all sat down and feasted
the 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

ROBIN HOOD TURNS BUTCHER. 55

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 forgot
ten 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 to-day, and even if ye had not
asked me, I would have given you a score of pounds for the sweet entertain
ment 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 wot-
test 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 hun
dred 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.

56 ROBIN HOOD TURNS BUTCHER.

" 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.

II.

Little John goes to the Fair at Nottingham

Town.

NOW we will tell of the merry adventures that befell Little John at the
shooting-match at Nottingham, and how he overcame Eric o' Lincoln in
the famous bout at quarterstaff in that town ; also how he entered the
Sheriff's service, and of his merry encounter with the Sheriff's cook. So listen
to what follows.

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 cele
brated 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 them
selves 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 eth a prize'for

. the archery bout.

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 naught would it pleasure or profit me."

The Sheriff pro-
claimeth the
Fair at Notting
ham, and offer-

58 LITTLE JOHN GOES TO THE FAIR AT NOTTINGHAM TOWN.

Then up spoke Little John : "Nay, but hearken, good master," said he, "only
Little John will to-day Will Stutely, young David of Doncaster, and I were at the

go to Dotting- • £ th B1 g and th we h d all th £ thi

ham to shoot for &

the prize. 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 thoti
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 one."

" 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 Not
tingham 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
Little John com- scarlet was his cowled cap, with a scarlet feather stuck in the side
eth to the Fair. o£ jt> 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

LITTLE JOHN GOES TO THE FAIR AT NOTTINGHAM TOWN. 59

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.

The next place Little John went to was the dancing booth, where three men
made sweet music with bagpipes. Here he laid aside his bow and his quiver,
and joined in the sport, dancing so long that none could stand against him. A
score of lasses came, one after another, and strove to dance him down, but could
not do so ; for Little John leaped so high, snapping his fingers the while, and
shouted so loud, that every lass vowed that she had never seen so sweet a lad
in all her life before.

Then, after he had danced a long time, 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 every one 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 here
abouts, 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, " Hal- Lfa/g hn bgat_
loa, thou long-legged fellow in scarlet! Broad are thy shoulders eth Eric o' Lin-
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 Netting-
ham 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 ? "

60 LITTLE JOHN GOES TO THE FAIR AT NOTTINGHAM TOWN.

" 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, an it were, — yet, I trow it will have to serve
me ; so here goeth." Thereupon he cast the cudgel upon the stand, and, leap
ing 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 cock
erel 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 to
gether 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

LITTLE JOHN GOES TO THE FAIR AT NOTTINGHAM TOWN. 63

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 long bow
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 long bow 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 an
swered, " 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 hn

clout, and once only the length of a barleycorn from the centre, shooteth in the
" Hey for the tall archer ! " shouted the crowd ; and some among

them shouted, " Hey for Reynold Greenleaf ! " for this was the Town and -win-

J J MM the prize.

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 talkttk "to Little
he said, after a while, " How now, good fellow, methinks there is $f%*!£>~'
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"

64 LITTLE JOHN GOES TO THE FAIR AT NOTTINGHAM TOWN.

"Now, Reynold Greenleaf," quoth the Sheriff, "thou art the fairest hand at
the long bow 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, beside this, I will
pay thee forty marks each Michaelmastide."

" Then here stand I a free man, and right gladly will I enter thy house-
Littie John en- h°W said Little John ; for he thought he might find some merry
tereth the sher- jest, should he enter the Sheriff's service.

" Fairly hast thou won the fat steers," said the Sheriff, " and
thereunto 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
Little John giv- will give fat steers and brown ale to all these good folk, to make
£the ^uTaTtk* tnem merry withal." At this arose a great shout, many casting
Fair. 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.

III.

How Little John lived at the Sheriff's

House.

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 be
side his horse when he went a-hunting ; so that, what with hunting and hawk
ing a little, and eating rich dishes and drinking good sack and Hffw that Little
sleeping until late hours in the morning, he grew as fat as a stall- John lived in the

„,, . ,, MI -i • M Sheriff 's service.

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 The Sfterija- go.
man, Reynold Greenleaf, but, not finding him, was vexed, for he eth a-hunting

• ! -11 i, r- A r and leaveth Lit-

wished to show Little John s skill to his noble friends. As tor tie John at
Little John, he lay abed, snoring lustily, till the sun was high in home
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 disturb
ance. His spirit seemed to awaken from its sluggishness, and his memory
brought back to him all the merry greenwood life, — how the birds were sing
ing 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 any one in all the world, and of young
5

66 HOW LITTLE JOHN LIVED AT THE SHERIFF'S HOUSE.

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 down-stairs he saw the Steward standing near the pantry
Little John seek- door, — a great, fat man, with a huge bundle of keys hanging
eth his break- to his girdle. Then Little John said, " Ho, Master Steward, a
steward giveth hungry man am I, for nought have I had for all this blessed
it him not. 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, Mas
ter Reynold Greenleaf, thou art an hungered, 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,
Little John so saying, he strode to the pantry and tried to open the door ;
iTtfe steward but found il locked, whereat the Steward laughed and rattled
pantry. 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,

HOW LITTLE JOHN LIVED AT THE SHERIFFS HOUSE. 67

" 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 pre
pared 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 glower
ing 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 say
ing, he laid aside his spit and drew the sword that hung by his side ; where
upon 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 pre- The Cook cometh
paring to make himself merry. S

" Why, how now, Reynold Greenleaf ? " said the Cook ; " thou tie John.
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."

68 HOW LITTLE JOHN LIVED AT THE SHERIFF'S HOUSE.

" 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 night
fall."

So each thrust his sword back into the scabbard, and entered the pantry ;
Little 7okn then, after they had seated themselves, Little John drew his dag-
feasteth with the ger 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."

HOW LITTLE JOHN LIVED AT THE SHERIFF'S HOUSE. 69

" Nay, truly," said Little John, " that were but ill courtesy. Strike up thy
ditty, and I will afterwards 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 away and let
me hear."

Then the Cook took another draught from the pottle, and, clear- The Cook sins-

. . . elk of the Desert-

ing his throat, sang right sweetly, — ed Shepherdess.

THE SONG OF THE DESERTED SHEPHERDESS.

" In Lenten time, when leaves wax green,

And pretty birds begin to mate,
When lark doth 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 '// 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 'II take me of thy branches fair
And twine a wreath to deck my hair."1

«r

" 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."

70 HO W LITTLE JOHN LIVED AT THE SHERIFF'S HOUSE.

" 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
Little John sing- how he cured his heart's wound without running upon the dart
eth of the Good aprajn as did thy Phillis : for I wot she did but cure one smart

Kmght and his J

Lome. 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 companye,
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."

The-AVighty
Little John-
IE^

HOW LITTLE JOHN LIVED AT THE SHERIFFS HOUSE. 73

" Now, by my faith," cried the Cook, as he rattled the pottle against the side
board, " I like that same song hugely, and eke the motive of it, which lieth
like a sweet kernel in a hazel-nut."

" 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 passage-way, 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 Stew
ard'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 ultie y0hn anj
hour and more, neither striking the other a blow, though they the Cockfight.
strove their best to do so ; for both were skilful 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 Stew
ard, 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 two suits of Lincoln green each year, and forty marks in
pay."

74 HOW LITTLE JOHN LIVED AT THE SHERIFF'S HOUSE.

" Now, thou art a man after mine own heart ! " cried the Cook right heart-
Tke Cook goeth ily ; " and, as thou speakest of it, that is the very service for me.

7oejo^o?inH l wil1 S° with thee» and that riSht g!adly. Give me thy palm,
Hood's band. 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 have 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 good Sheriff's food,
we should not also carry off some of his silver plate to Robin Hood, as a pres
ent 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
Little John found Robin Hood and threescore of his merry men lying upon
bCook to Robin ^e fresn green grass. When Robin and his men saw who it was
Hood. 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 ser
vice. 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
Robin Hood re- am g^ad thou hast brought thyself back to us, and with such a
buketh Little 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

HOW LITTLE JOHN LIVED AT THE SHERIFF'S HOUSE. 75

us." So saying, he leaped to his feet, and was gone before Robin Hood could
call him back.

Little John ran for full five miles till he came to where the Sheriff of Not
tingham 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 Little John
close copse until suddenly they came to a great open glade, at the ^kef iff to Robin
end of which Robin Hood sat beneath the shade of the great oak H°°d.
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, Lit
tle John, for thou hast betrayed me this day."

Then Little John laughed aloud. " Good Master Sheriff," said he, " thou
dost indeed know me, and I am Little John. But let me tell thee, all this
would not have happened had not thy beggarly Steward starved me, and had
he given me food to eat when I asked it. But if he gave none to me, the
green hart will give thee another feast, and when thou goest back, tell thy
Steward the time will come when he and I shall have a reckoning."

In the mean time Robin Hood had come to them. " Now welcome, Master
Sheriff," said he. " Hast thou come to-day 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 to-day."

76 HOW LITTLE JOHN LIVED AT THE SHERIFF'S HOUSE.

" 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, will-he-nill-he, 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 any
thing, 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
earnest to Sherwood Forest thou didst come seeking to despoil a poor spend
thrift, 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 to-day 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 follow
ing 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 wait
ing 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 tur
moil 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-
Arthvr- a- Bl and:-

Li tile- Johniknoweth-not- which- Road- to- take :

PART THIRD.

Recounting three merry adventures that befel Robin Hood and certain
others, by which he gained sore bones and three good merry men, all
in one day-

Little John and the Tanner of Blyth.

T often comes about in this world that unlucky hap
penings fall upon one in such measure that it seems,
as the saying is, that every cat that one strokes flies
into one's face. Thus it was with Robin Hood and
Little John one bright day in the merry Maytime ;
so listen and you shall hear how Dame Luck so buf
feted them that their bones were sore for many a day
thereafter.

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 dwelt. The day was warm and
sultry, so that whilst 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.

4.11 the air was laden with the bitter fragrance of the May, and all the bosky

go LITTLE JOHN AND THE TANNER OF BLYTH.

shades of the woodlands beyond rang with the sweet song of birds, — the thros
tle-cock, the cuckoo, and the wood-pigeon, — and with the song of birds min
gled 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 be
fore the trysting-tree. And a fair sight was that halfscore of tall, stout yeo
men, 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.

The good old times have gone by when such men grow as grew then ; when
sturdy quarterstaff and long bow toughened a man's thews till they were like
leather. Around Robin Hood that day there lay the very flower of English
yeomanrie. Here the great Little John, with limbs as tough as the gnarled
oak, yet grown somewhat soft from good living at the Sheriff's house in Not
tingham Town ; there Will Stutely, his face as brown as a berry from sun and
wind, but, for all that, the comeliest yeoman in the midcountry, only excepting
Allan a Dale, the minstrel, of whom you shall hear anon. Beside these was
Will Scathelock, as lank as a greyhound, yet as fleet of foot as a buck of three
years' growth ; young David of Doncaster, with great stout limbs only less
than those of Little John in size, the tender beard of early youth now just
feathering his chin, and others of great renown both far and near.

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
Robin Hood to, and that in quick season. Come, busk thee, Little John ! stir
™0Chn Because of those lazy bones of thine, for thou must get thee straightway to
kis fatness. 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
Little John is that he was sore upon the point), " nay, truly, mayhap I have
g™eerds RMnart'o more flesh uPon my joints than I once had, yet, flesh or no flesh,
some purpose. \ 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 hap
pened between their master and himself, through which they first became ac
quainted.

LITTLE JOHN AND THE TANNER OF BLYTH. 8l

" 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 Robin oidsLittie
goest in broad daylight, thou mayst get thyself into a coil with John go upon a

e , . i • i -r-» • i i mission to the

some of his worship s men-at-arms. Bide thou here till I bring Draper of An-
thee money to pay our good Hugh. I warrant he hath no better caster-
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 pad
lock. 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 pike- Little John sets
staff full seven feet long in his hand, and set forth upon his {°J.th to Ancas~
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 LMe john
grown passing fond of good living through abiding at the Sher- ^yJf^ffL
iff's house ; so, presently, looking up into the blue sky, across Ancaster, and
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 '11 e'en stop at the Blue Boar till it passes by, for I know my good
6

82 LITTLE JOHN AND THE TANNER OF BLYTH.

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
Little John gone that Little John put by the thought of setting forth upon
Bhu Boor /«« his journey again that night, and so bided at the Blue Boar Inn
all night. 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 midcountry 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. Beside
all this, he dearly loved the long bow, 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 a plenty 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
Arthur a Bland forth on his errand, there to sell a half score of tanned cowhides.

SM,tt{nrSam°m At the daWn °f the Same dsLY that Little J°hn left the iim' he

Town for Blyth. 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

LITTLE JOHN AND THE TANNER OF BLYTH. 83

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 idainty brown darlings
thus early in the morn." For there was nothing he loved better

, , ....... , , He thinks to

than to look upon a tripping herd of deer, even when he could catch a sight of
not tickle their ribs with a clothyard shaft. Accordingly, quitting the dun deer'
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
the crab-trees that stood here and there all covered with fair pink blossoms, 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 Little john seeth
through the leaves of the thickets. Hearing a rustling of the Arthur a Bland

T.1T, , , . . . , . in the thickets.

branches, Little John stopped, and presently caught sight of the
brown cowhide cap of the Tanner moving amongst 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 high-road, 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 Little yohn bid,
thou hast an evil cast of countenance, and I do think, truly, deth Arthur a

. J , Bland to stand.

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."

84 LITTLE JOHN AND THE TANNER OF BL YTH.

" Ha ! " quoth Little John, in a great loud voice, " wouldst thou give me
back-talk ? 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 forest
ers. Leastwise," muttered he to himself, " I and my friends do take good care
of our good sovereign's deer."

Arthur a Bland "* care not wno tnou art>" answered the bold Tanner, "and
defies Little 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
Little John and enough to knock down a calf ; so look to thyself, fellow, I say

Arthur a Bland oo-oin "
make ready to ^S^1"-

fight. 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 over night

with merry company at the Blue Boar Inn, instead of going straight to Ancas-

ter. So, being vexed to his heart by this, he set forth at dawn of

Robin Hood sets ° J -

forth to meet day to seek Little John at the Blue Boar, or at least to meet the
veoman on tne wav> and ease his heart of what he thought of the

inn, to chide 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
He hears voices from one to the other. At this, Robin Hood stopped and listened.
in the thicket. "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

LITTLE JOHN AND THE TANNER OF BLYTH. 85

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 window-pane, at the thought that perhaps his trusty right-hand man
was in some danger of his life. So ^cautiously he made his way Hg seeth Little
through the thickets whence the voices came, and, pushing aside John and Ar-

. . , . , ., T..I . , thur a Bland

the leaves, peeped into the little open space where the two men, making ready to
staff in hand, were coming slowly together. fiskt-

"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 Little ~ohn and
those two stout yeomen moved slowly around, each watching for Arthur a Bland
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 ploughed 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 stout 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

86 LITTLE JOHN AND THE TANNER OF BL YTH.

follow up his vantage, it would have been ill for stout Arthur. But he regained
Arthur a Bland himself quickly, and, at arm's length, struck back a blow at Little
Sjohnto tke Jonn> and this time the stroke reached its mark, and down went
grass. 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 ? "
Little John " Yea, truly, and a murrain seize thee ! " said Little John, the

toArttutra first aloud and the last to his beard.

Bland' " 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 cudgelled 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
Robin Hood gall- to see thee yield thyself so, hand and foot, to any man in all
'by j^tinl at°hhis merrv England. I was seeking thee, to chide thee for leaving
mishap. 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 whilst 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

LITTLE JOHN AND THE TANNER OF BL YTH. 87

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 stout
est 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 Arthur a Bland
fingers, " and hey for the life I love ! Away with tanbark and j™J$J SnFof
filthy vats and foul cowhides ! I will follow thee to the ends of merry men.
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.

II.

Robin Hood and Will Scarlet.

r I ^HUS they travelled 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 An-

Robin Hood, Lit- caster, yesterday, as I told thee ? Thou hadst not gotten thyself

tie John, and jnto such a coij hadst thou done as I ordered."

Arthur a Bland

travel onward " 1 feared the ram that threatened," said Little John in a sullen

together, talking. £Qr h

chafed by Robjn 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 travelled 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

The three yeo- J ' J

men, growing came to where the water bubbled up from beneath a mossy stone.
^ne'ath 7he shade, Here, kneeling and making cups of the palms of their hands,
nigh to the high- 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

ROBIN HOOD AND WILL SCARLET. 89

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 else was sunny silence, broken only now and then by
the crow of a distant cock, borne up to them on the wings of the soft and gen
tle breeze, or the drowsy drone of the humble-bee burrowing in the clover blos
soms that grew in the sun, or the voice of the busy housewife in the nearest
farmhouse. All was so pleasant and so full of the gentle joy of the bright
Maytime, that for a long time neither 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 gayly-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, Robin seeth a
for his doublet was of scarlet silk and his stockings also ; a hand- stranger clad in

scarlet.

some 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 smelt 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 rose-leaf 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 be
lieve 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."

90 ROBIN HOOD AND WILL SCARLET.

"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 fel
low's hair is over light 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.
Whenever saw ye Saxon mince along like that, as though he feared to muddy
the toes of his shoes ? At least, I will go forth and stop him, and see whether
his purse be free of foul money. If I am wrong, then he may go forward upon
his journey without the loss of so much as a groat ; but if I am right, I will
pluck him as close as ever a goose was plucked for live feathers in midsummer.
Thou sayst he is a sturdy fellow, Little John. Lie thou here and watch till I
show thee how woodland life toughens a man, as easy living, such

Robin Hood go- r i i 7 • i r*i-i

eth forth to show as thine hath been of late, drags him down. So, he ye both here,

LArtjJr°aBland l say» tiu l show You how l drub this fellow." So saying, Robin
how to use the 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 ex
cept at Robin.

" Hold ! " cried Robin, when at last the other had come close to him.

Robin Hood bid- " Hold ! Stand where th°U art ! "

detk the stranger "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."

Stranger*

ROBIN HOOD AND WILL SCARLET. 93

"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 tho.u hast shown me jfe wili not iet

thy purse." the stranger go.

" Good friend," said the other, gently, " I have business elsewhere. I have
given thee much time and have heard thee patiently. Prythee, let me now de
part 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 a while till I get me a

94 ROBIN HOOD AND WILL SCARLET.

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

The stranger in ...... J

scarlet taketh a found a sapling to his liking. He did not cut it, but, rolling up

'roafsi/r™ fight his sleeves a little wa7> he laid hold of it, placed his heel against
Robin Hood the ground, and, with one mighty pull, plucked the young tree up
by the roots from out the very earth. Then he came back, trim
ming away the roots and tender stems with his sword as quietly as if he had
done naught 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 rend
ing 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 midcountry yeoman. This
Robin Hood and way and that they fought, and back and forth, Robin's skill
the stranger in agrainst the stranger's strength. The dust of the highway rose

scarlet fight m *=> T

the high-road. 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 ;

The stranger . • . , 1111 i • i •

overcometh Rob- again he struck, and Robin bent beneath the blow ; a third time

iof£°eatstr'englt he struck> and now not only fairly beat down Robin's guard, but
and Robin Hood gave him such a rap, also, that down he tumbled into the dusty

begs for mercy.

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

Little John bids heels- " H°ld ! §ive OVGr' T Say ! "

the stranger hold " 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

ROBIN HOOD AND WILL SCARLET.

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." mocketh at Robin

" A plague on thy aid ! " cried Robin, angrily. " I can get to Hood>* mishaP-
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 earnest 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 Robin Hood find-
be none other ! I might have known thee by that pretty maiden ttrmgir t* his

air of thine, — that dainty, finicking manner of gait. Dost thou own sister's son-
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
gavest 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."

96 ROBIN HOOD AND WILL SCARLET.

" 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 finger-nail 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 earnest
thou to leave Sir Edward and thy mother ? "

" Alas ! " answered young Gamwell, " it is an ill story, uncle, that I have to
Will Gamwell tell thee. My father's steward, who came to us after old Giles
telieth his story. 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 be
rate my father, I standing by. I could stand it no longer, good uncle, so, step
ping 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 any one escaping
the law, thou wast taking it the most easily that ever I beheld in all my life.
Whenever did any one 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, "over haste never churned good
butter, as the old saying hath it. Moreover, I do verily believe that this over-
strength 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

Will Gamwell feH°ws- But thou must change thy name, for warrants will be

hath a new name 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

Little John gall- great palm, which the other took, " Will Scarlet, the name fitteth

eth Robin Hood thee well. Right glad am I to welcome thee amongst 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,

ROBIN HOOD AND WILL SCARLET. 97

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 ; like
wise, 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? Pry thee, let us
keep this day's doings amongst 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 some
what. 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, in
stead 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 n6 farther to-day, but will return to Sher- Thefour yeo.
wood, and thou shalt go to Ancaster ano'ther time, Little John." men turn their

1 . faces towards

So said Robin, for now that his bones were sore, he telt as Sherwood Forest
though a long journey would be an ill thing for him. So, turning agam"
their backs, they retraced their steps whence they came.

III.

The Merry Adventure with Midge the Miller.

WHEN the four yeomen had travelled 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
Robin Hood ^oaf °f white bread, with a piece of snow-white cheese, washed
waxeth hungry. (jown wjth 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 yon
der, beside the road, and there will we eat our meal."

So Little John gave Arthur the money, and the others stepped to the thicket,
The stout Tan- tnere to await the return of the Tanner.

nergoeth to buy After 3. time he came back, bearing with him a great brown
loaf of bread and a fair, round cheese, and a goat-skin 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,

THE MERRY ADVENTURE WITH MIDGE THE MILLER. 99

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, sweet friends," quoth Robin, gathering up the skin of beer, that was
not yet nearly empty, " I do wish that ye may ever have such happiness as a
good stout meal like this bringeth to my heart. Thus pledging you all, I drink
to your health, that it may ever remain such as it is this day." So saying, he
took a long, hearty pull at the stout beer. Next Will Scarlet took the skin,
then Little John, and, last of all, the stout Tanner. A good full skin of beer,
as fat as a town tradesman, began the round ; a poor, flabby hide came forth,
as weak and limp as an aged man.

" 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, 't is 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, w*ll Scarlet

1 • u- 4.1. «. u r 11 swgeth a song.

clearing his throat, he sang as follows : —

" In the merry blossom time,

When love-longings flood 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 wild.
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.

100 THE MERRY ADVENTURE WITH MIDGE THE MILLER.

" When the Spring brings sweet delights,

When aloft the lark doth rise,
Lovers woo 0' mellow nights,

And youths peep in maidens'1 eyes,
That time blooms the eglantine,

Daisies pied upon the hill,
Cowslips fair and columbine,

Dusky violets by the rill.
But the Ivy green doth grow
When the north wind bringeth snow.
Ivy ! Ivy !
Stanch and true I
Thus I *d have her love to be;
Not to die
At the nigh
Breath of cold adversity."

" T is 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
next."

" I know not," quoth Arthur, smiling, with his head on one side, like a bud
ding 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
Arthur a Bland strike up thy ditty and let us hear -it, for, as I do remember me,
SWooing of Sir ^ *s a gallant song ; so out with it, good fellow."
Keith- Thereupon, clearing his throat, the Tanner, without more ado,

began to sing the ballad of

THE MERRY ADVENTURE WITH MIDGE THE MILLER. JOi

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,
2 he 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 grewsome 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 afoul disease

Doth gnaw my very heart,
And but one thing can bring me ease
Or cure my bitter smart.

102 THE MERRY ADVENTURE WITH MIDGE THE MILLER.

" l 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,

1 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 1 '

Quoth Kay, ' Nay, by my troth !
What noble dame would kiss a knight
That kissed so foul a mouth ? '

"'Wilt thou, GawaineV ' I cannot, King.'

1 Sir Geraint ? ' ' Nay, not I;
My kisses no relief could bring,
For sooner would I die.'

THE MERRY ADVENTURE WITH MIDGE THE MILLER. 103

" Then up and spake the youngest man

Of all about the board,
' Now such relief as Christian can

I 'II 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.'1

" 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, ' / make, my vow
If it will please thee, lady fair,
I 'II 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?

104 2 HE MERRY ADVENTURE WITH MIDGE THE MILLER.

" 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 apoeareth 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 to-day, 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
Little John be- a. proper length of time, such as is seemly in one that is asked to
fon™fn?dotfy sin& he presently yielded. Quoth he, "Well, an ye will ha' it
not finish it. so, I will give you what I can. Like to fair Will, I have no title
to my ditty, but thus it runs." Then clearing his voice he sang : —

" 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

2WE MERRY ADVENTURE WITH MIDGE THE MILLER. 105

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 ? "

106 THE MERRY ADVENTURE WITH MIDGE THE MILLER.

" 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

Robtn Hood bids o o

the Miller's son 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 for thee."

" 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 per
haps have some heavy farthings or pence about thee, not to speak of silver and
gold. Our good Gaffer Swanthold sayeth that gold is an over heavy 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 de
part 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."

The-FourYcomon-hauc-/\crr/-

THE MERRY ADVENTURE WITH MIDGE THE MILLER. 109

" 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 bottom of 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 Robin Hood
blessed image of good King Harry. I thought that I smelt gold findeth the Mill-
and silver beneath the barley meal. Bring it straight forth,
Miller."

Then slowly the Miller arose to his feet, and slowly and unwillingly he un
tied 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 throwetk meal

11111 111 i • i • r rw into the faces of

what he had, he suddenly cast the meal into their faces, filling the four, and so
their eyes and noses and mouths with the flour, blinding and half **•* them-
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 chan
nels 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 Not
tinghamshire, while their hair and beards and clothes were as white as snow.

Then catching up his great crab staff, the Miller began laying about him as
though he were clean gone mad. This way and that skipped the The stout Miller
four, like peas on a drumhead, but they could neither see to de- drubs them'
fend 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!"

1 10 THE MERRY ADVENTURE WITH MIDGE THE MILLER.

" 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

Robin Hood . . . . . .

soundeth his blew three loud blasts upon it.

™ Now it: chanced that Will Stutely and a party of Robin's men
merry men to the 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 winter time, 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 high-road.

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 fellow 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, whilst 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.

THE MERRY ADVENTURE WITH MIDGE THE MILLER, m

" 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 with a grim thinlethto pun-
look. But Robin's anger could not hold, so first his eyes twinkled, ',s/i tke Mill/r^

. . J but cannot do so

and then m spite of all he broke into a laugh. because of his

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 a maze.

" 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 md e the Min_
wilt thou leave thy dusty mill and come and join my band ? By «-'j sonjoineth
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 They go back
man I was." So saying, he turned and led the way, the rest again to Sher-
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.

Thus came about three merry adventures in one day, the one stepping upon
the heels of another.

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

112 THE MERRY ADVENTURE WITH MIDGE THE MILLER.

with Will Scarlet leaked out. And so I have told it that you may laugh at the
merry tale along with me.

Now happenings so come upon us in this world that the serious things of
this world become so mixed up with the merry things that our life is all of a
jumble of black and white, as it were, like the boards of checkered black and
white upon which country folk play draughts at the inn beside the blazing fire
of a winter's night

So things fell out with Robin Hood, for this day of merry sport, through
which we have just trudged and buffeted with him and certain other mad wags,
was speedily followed by one in which, though merriment was a-doing, more
weighty matters were undertaken. So listen to what follows.

ALLAN-A- DALE- tells-hi S

PART FOURTH.

In which it is told how Allan a Dale was brought to Robin Hood, who
promised to help him in troiible. Also how Robin sought the curtal
Friar of Fountain Abbey with that aim in view. Likewise it is re
counted how Robin Hood brought two true lovers together that would
else have been made unhappy all their lives.

Robin Hood and Allan a Dale.

T 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 ac
tion 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.

Will Scathe-lock, who was as full of tales and legends as an egg is of meat,

ng ROBIN HOOD AND ALLAN A DALE.

was telling of the adventures that befell brave Sir Carodoc of the Shrunken

Arm, of King Arthur's time, and of his love to his one true maid, and of what

they dared and suffered for each other's sake. That noble story

Will Scathelock J • r • i i •«.*. i

telieth the goodly you yourself may read some time, for it has been written and
fd7c°ofSthre Car' sung in more than one ancient tale and ballad, both in courtly and
Shrunken Arm. ^ homely phrase. To this all listened without a word, and when
it was done many drew deep breaths, being carried away by the tale of knightly
daring and noble sacrifice.

" It doth make a man better," quoth Robin Hood, " to hear of those noble
men that lived so long ago. When one doth list to such tales, his soul doth
say, ' Put by thy poor little likings and seek to do likewise.' Truly, one may
not' do as nobly one's self, but in the striving one is better. I mind me our good
Gaffer Swanthold was wont to say, ' He who jumps for the moon and gets it
not leaps higher than he who stoops for a penny in the mud.' '

" Truly," quoth Will Stutely, " it is a fine thought, but, nevertheless, good
master, the one gets a penny and the other gets nought, and, without the
penny, one is like to go with an empty stomach. These same stories are well
to listen to but ill to follow, say I."

"By the faith of my heart," quoth merry Robin, " thou dost ever trip up a
lofty thought that gazes in the sky, and dost bring its nose in the dust. Nev
ertheless, thou hast a shrewd wit in thy head, good Stutely ; and now that thou
bringest me to things of the world, 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

Robin Hood •> ,

sendeth Will Way or thereabouts, and see that thou bringest some one to eat
feUom?n aol1toX with us this evening. Meantime we will prepare a grand feast to
seek a guest. £o 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 Mil
ler, 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

ROBIN HOOD AND ALLAN A DALE. 117

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 home-coming. So when high noontide
had come they sat them down upon the soft grass, beneath a men lodge by The
green and wide-spreading hawthorn bush, and held a hearty and roadside-
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 de
sired 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, uncon
scious of the seven stout fellows that lay hidden so near them. Such were the
travellers 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 inno
cent 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 They return
one has a gray goose feather nipped betwixt the fingers. Come, a^odwith empty
lads, let us pack up and home again, say I." Accordingly, the ^nds.
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, sud
denly 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." Will Stutely
At this all stopped and listened with bated breath, albeit for J^J Of some
a time they could hear nothing, their ears being duller than one in sorrow.
Stutely's. At length they heard a faint and melancholy sound, like some one
in lamentation.

" Ha ! " quoth Will Scarlet, " this must be looked into. There is some one
in distress nigh to us here."

" I know not," quoth Will Stutely, shaking his head doubtfully, "our master

U8 ROBIN HOOD AND ALLAN A DALE.

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." Thus spoke Will Stutely, yet, in truth, only half meant what he
said. Nevertheless, since he had escaped so narrowly from out the Sheriff's
clutches he had grown somewhat over-cautious.

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 'It 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
They find a glassy pebbled pool. By the side of this pool, and beneath the
youth weeping Branches of a willow, lay a youth upon his face, weeping aloud,

beside a Joim- r o

tain. 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 snivelling 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

ROBIN HOOD AND ALLAN A DALE. 119

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 The sorrowful
deeper recesses of the forest the strange whispering sounds of "with'fLm^iiito
night-time came to the ear ; all else was silent, saving only for the the forest.
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 far
ther and they came to the open glade, now bathed in the pale moonlight. In
the centre 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 green
wood 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 The sorrowful
whether I be in a dream," said he to himself in a low voice. Bought llfore

"Nay, marry," quoth jolly Robin, laughing; "thou art awake, Robin Hood.
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 shoul
der. " 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

I2o ROBIN HOOD AND ALLAN A DALE.

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. Nevertheless, as thou
mayst remember a certain talk this morning of duty and what not being better
than a penny plucked from the dust, methinks here is a fine chance for prac
tising charity."

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. 'T is 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 ? "

"Allan a Dale is my name, good master."

" Allan a Dale," repeated Robin, musing. " Allan 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 over young 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

ROBIN HOOD AND ALLAN A DALE. I2i

the waste weir when the mill-dam is over full. 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 ;
Allan a Dale at first in broken words and phrases, then freely and with greater
tetteth his story. 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, travel
ling 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 some
times 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

122 ROBIN HOOD AND ALLAN A DALE.

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 any one 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.

Whilst the others were speaking, Robin Hood had been sunk in thought.
Robin Hood de- " Methinks I have a plan might fit thy case, Allan," said he.

loald AiianTS " But tel1 me first> thinkest thou, lad, that thy true love hath spirit
his troubles. enough to marry thee were ye together in church, the banns pub
lished, 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 cer-
wui Scarlet tell- tain friar that, couldst thou but get on the soft side of him, would
kdyFrtaroftk* ^° tnv business even though Pope Joan herself stood forth to ban
Fountain. 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. Naught 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 dwelt 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

Robin Hood by the bright hair of Saint ^Elfrida that this time two days hence

fromiseth to aid Ellen a Dale shall be thy wife. I will seek this same Friar of

Fountain Abbey to-morrow day, and I warrant I will get upon

the soft side of him, even if I have to drub one soft."

ROBIN HOOD AND ALLAN A DALE. 123

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 some
thing ? "

"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 Allan a Dale
first bidding ; so, taking up his harp, he ran his fingers lightly *ofgMay EU
over the sweetly-sounding strings, and all was hushed about the wedding.
cloth. Then, backing his voice with sweet music on his harp, he sang

MA Y 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.

2.
" 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,

124 ROBIN HOOD AND ALLAN A DALE.

And on my heart I '// let thee lie,

And love thee tenderly ! '
Thus cried May Ellen, soft and low,
From where the hawthorn shed its snow.

4-
" Down dropped the bird on quivering wing,

From out the blossoming tree,
And nestled in her snowy breast.

1 My love ! my love ! ' cried she ;
Then straightway home, 'mid sun and flower,
She bare him to her own sweet bower.

5-
" The day hath passed to mellow night,

The moon floats o'er the tea.
And in its solemn, pallid light

A youth stands silently :
A youth of beauty strange and rare,
Within May Ellerfs 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.

7-
" All in a low and breathless voice,

( Whence earnest thou ? ' said she ;
1 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.

8.
' I came, a bird on feathered wing,

From distant Faery land
Where murmuring waters softly sing

Upon the golden strand,
\

ROBIN HOOD AND ALLAN A DALE. I25

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.

10.
" ' 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, ' // 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?

12.

" 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 ? '

" // 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.

126 ROBIN HOOD AND ALLAN A DALE.

14.

" 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.

15-

" 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 flight the darkness through.

16.
" Around May Ellen's head they flew

In wide and windy flight,
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.

18.

" 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 so sweet the

ROBIN HOOD AND ALLAN A DALE. 127

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 ! Allan a Dale
Wilt thou not stay with us here in the sweet green forest? ^"ke m/nsfre?
Truly, I do feel my heart go out toward thee with great love." to Robin Hood.

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.

II.

Robin seeketh the Curtal Friar of the

Fountain.

THE stout yeomen of Sherwood Forest were ever early risers of a morn,
more especially when the summer time had come, for then in the fresh
ness 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 whilst
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

Aobtn Hood and °

four of his yeo- whither to go. Thus, mile after mile, they strode along, now
™outitamDaie°to across a brawling stream, "now along a sunlit road, now adown
seek the^ Friar of 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 high 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

ROBIN SEEKETH THE CURTAL FRIAR OF THE FOUNTAIN. 129

silence of the midday, no horse was seen nor any man beside themselves. Be
hind them and before them stretched the river, its placid bosom ruffled here
and there by the purple dusk of a small breeze. Sweet green osiers bordered
the banks, and far away the red-tiled eaves of some tall tcwer glimmered in the
sun, the weather-vane a spark against the blue sky. And now they travelled
more easily, for the road was level and hard. Around them and over the sur
face of the water skimmed and dipped the swallows, gay dragon-flies darted
hither and thither glistening in the sun, and now and then a solitary heron rose
splashing and with startled cry from its hiding place among the reeds and
sedges that grew in the shallow margin of the stream.

" 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."

"'Tis ever thus," said Little John, half muttering; "thou dost alway seek
these ventures alone, whilst we, whose lives are but of small worth beside thine,
and who would be but too glad to enter upon them, must sit, as it were, twid
dling our thumbs in idleness."

" Nay, Little John," quoth jolly Robin, " this venture, I wot, is without dan
ger to me. I know thou art overready to peril thyself ; never- RMn ffgod
theless, bide thou here this time as I bid thee." So saying he leaveth his men

, behind him and

turned and left them, striding onward alone. goeth forward

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.

" 'T is strange," muttered Robin to himself after a space, when the voices had
ceased their talking ; "surely there be two people that spoke the Robin heareth
one to the other, and yet methinks their voices are mightily alike. ***»**''

130 ROBIN SEEKETH THE CURTAL FRIAR OF THE FOUNTAIN.

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
SJtVS thyme, that loves the moist verges of running streams. Here,
Friar feasting -^ fas broad back against the rugged trunk of the willow tree,

beneath the

shadow of the 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 cov
ered over with a close curly black beard, as were his chin and upper lip like
wise. 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. Be
neath 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 Malmsley
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 him
self as though he were another man, and answering himself as though he were
somebody else.

ROBIN SEEKETH THE CURTAL FRIAR OF THE FOUNTAIN. 131

" 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 The Friar taik-
to me in this solitary place, no one being by, and yet if thou wilt eth to &*"&•
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, 't is 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 bull
finch ; 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 Friar sing-
the lad's ? I know not but I will try ; begin thou with the lad

and I will follow with the lass." Lffv*ns Youth

, rr j • afl" *"e Scornful

Then, singing first with a voice deep and grurr, and anon in Maid" in two
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, be mine ?
For I will give unto thee, my love,
Gay knots and ribbons so fine.
I '// woo thee, love, on my bended knee,
And I 'II pipe sweet songs to none but thee.

132 ROBIN SEEKETH THE CURTAL FRIAR OF THE FOUNTAIN.

Then it 's hark ! hark ! hark I

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 '// wait till a better young man I see.
For it 's hark I 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 '// 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 '.$• hark to the cooing dove !
And the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill,
And I'll seek me another dear Jove.

SHE.
" Young man, turn not so very quick away

Another fair lass to find.
Methinks I have spoken in haste to-day,

Nor have I made up my mind,
And if thou only wilt stay with me,
I '// love no other, sweet lad, but thee."

ROBIN SEEKETH THE CURTAL FRIAR OF THE FOUNTAIN. 133

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, Kobin Hood
he joined in the chorus, and together they sang, or, as one might ^"^"^sin
say, bellowed : — ing.

" 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, threatens Robin
thou limb of evil, and I will carve thee into as fine pudding-meat wtth dtre *IL
as e'er a wife in Yorkshire cooked of a Sunday." Hereupon he drew from be
neath 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 ! glug ! 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 naught within it.

" Dost thou know the country hereabouts, thou good and holy man ? " asked
Robin, laughing.

134 ROBIN SEEKETH THE CURTAL FRIAR OF THE FOUNTAIN.

" 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."

" Truly, the river hath no side but the other," said the Friar.

" How dost thou prove that ? " asked Robin.

" Why, thus ; " said the Friar, noting the points upon his fingers. " The
other side of the river is the other, thou grantest ? "

The Friar argu-

eth quaintly " Yea, truly."

"** Robin' « Yet tne other side is but one side, thou dost mark ? "

" No man could gainsay that," said Robin.

" Then if the other side is one side, this side is the other side. But the other
side is the other side, therefore both sides of the river are the other side.

Q. E. D."

" 'T is well and pleasantly argued," quoth Robin ; " yet I am still in the dark
as to whether this same Curtal Friar is upon the side of the river on which we
stand or upon the side of the river on which we do not stand."

"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
Robin asketh the finest and I fain would not get them wet. Methinks thy shoul-
stout Friar to ^ are stout ancj broad \ couldst thou not find it in thy heart to

carry him across

the ford. 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

ROBIN SEEKETH THE CURTAL FRIAR OF THE FOUNTAIN. 135

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 'It 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

The Friar car-

his arm. Then once more the Friar bent his back, and, Robin ries Robin across
having mounted upon it, he stepped sturdily into the water, and water-
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. Pry thee 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 Thf Frfar
are of a carnal nature ; mine are of a spiritual nature, a holy work, outwits Robin
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

136 ROBIN SEEKETH THE CURTAL FRIAR OF THE FOUNTAIN.

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

Robin Hood car- .

ries the Friar went stumbling among the stones, now stepping into a deep hole,
back again. an(j nQW near}y tripping over a bowlder, 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, seek
ing 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 with-

ROBIN SEEKETH THE CURTAL FRIAR OF THE FOUNTAIN. 139

out 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 lies Robin Hood
shot Robin over his head as though he were a sack of grain. tnto the w^er-

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 vil
lain ! " 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, splash
ing, 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 Robin Hood
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.

I40 ROBIN SEEKETH THE CURTAL FRIAR OF THE FOUNTAIN.

"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
The Friar giv- verity think that thou hast some cunning trick in this," quoth
etk Robin Hood he. " Ne'crthelcss, I fear thee not, and will let thee have thy
oThis°bugie wish, providing thou wilt also let me blow thrice upon this little
horn- 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 ringers the while a pretty silver whistle, such as knights use for
calling their hawks back to their wrists, which whistle always hung at his gir
dle along with his rosary.

Scarcely had the echo of the last note of Robin's bugle come winding back
The four yeo- from across the river, when four tall men in Lincoln green came
men come to running around the bend of the road, each with a bow in his hand

their master's

aid. 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

The Friar blow- ./ . ./ , i i i , -,i A

etk upon his to his lips and blew a blast that was both loud and shrill. And
™hlstl<->and so now there came a crackling of the bushes that lined the other side

calletn jour °

great hounds to of the road, and presently forth from the covert burst four great,

aid him. ,

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 Downthe-
dale " 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.
The yeomen And now the old ballad telleth of a wondrous thing that hap-

founds, 'but the pened, for thus it says, that each dog so shot at leaped lightly
dogs catch the aside, and as the arrow passed him whistling, caught it in his

arrows in their . . -T 111 , .•,-, -,

mouths. mouth and bit it in twain. Now it would have been an ill day

ROBIN SEEKETH THE CURTAL FRIAR OF THE FOUNTAIN. 141

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 straight
way came to him and licked his hands and fawned upon him, as

t T-I r «** hounds

is the wont or dogs that meet one they know. Then the four know wuiScar-
yeomen came forward, the hounds leaping around Will Scarlet let'
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 reach
ing 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 stew
ard ? " 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 ? "

'' Robin Hood

" Why, truly," said the Friar, demurely, " some do call me the findeth the man
curtal Friar of Fountain Dale ; others again call me in jest the he sousht-
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

142 ROBIN SEEKETH THE CURTAL FRIAR OF THE FOUNTAIN.

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
The Friar goeth heels, and wended their way back to Sherwood again ; but it was
byeokmenkto 'sLr- long past nightfall ere they reached the greenwood tree.
wood Forest. jyf0w 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.

III.

Robin Hood compasseth the Marriage of Two

True Lovers.

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, whilst the air seemed to brim over with the song of many birds, all
blended together and all joying in the misty morn, each man laVed 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 to-day. 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
whiles 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. Beside
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 Robin Hood put-
stepped aside into the covert, and there donned a gay coat such ^
as might have been worn by some strolling minstrel, and slung a minstrel.
harp across his shoulder, the better to carry out that part.

And now I warrant Robin Hood was a sight to make all men stare. His
hose were of green, but his jerkin was of mixed red and yellow, all hung about
with streamers and knots and tags and ribbons of red and yellow also. Upon
his head he wore a tall hat of red leather, and thrust therein was a nodding
peacock's plume.

Ail the band stared and many laughed, for never had they seen their master
in such a fantastic guise before. Little John walked all around him, seriously
observing him narrowly, wvth his neck craned and his head on one side. As
you may have seen the uarnyard cock walk slowly round some unwonted thing,

144 ROBIN COMPASSETH THE MARRIAGE OF TWO LOVERS.

such as a sleeping cat or what not, pausing anon and anon, moving again with
doubtful step, wondering the while and clucking to himself ; so walked Little
John around Robin with such words as, " La ! Look ye there now ! is it
sooth ? 't is pretty, I wot ! " At last he stopped in front of Robin. " By my
soul," said he, " this same is a dainty and pretty dress that thou hast upon
thee, good master. Never hath sweeter bodily clothing been seen sin' good
Saint Wolfhad, the martyr, saw one sitting upon a rock painting his tail purple
and green."

" 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
Robin Hood bids wear it but f or the nonce. But stay, Little John, here are two
^harg?of'twoke ba£s that l would have thee carry in thy pouch for the sake of
bags of motiey. safe-keeping. I can ill care for them myself beneath this mot
ley."

" 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
Robin Hood and to tne va^e °^ R°tner stream. Here were different sights from
a score of his what one saw in the forest ; hedge-rows, broad fields of barley

merry men, to- , , ... ... ,

gether with co m, pasture lands rolling upward till they met the sky and all

£//«* aMDaiae"d dotted over with flocks of white sheeP' hayfields whence came the
set forth for 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 shine, do shine
And when her lips smile so rare.

ROBIN COMPASSETH THE MARRIAGE OF TWO LOVERS. 145

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
naught else ; yet, truly, there be better safe-guards 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 They come to the
estates owned by the rich Priory of Emmet. Here it was that eAeu.rcA™*ef?

J J fair Ellen is to

fair Ellen was to be married on that morn, and here was the spot be married.
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 any one coming to the church, and the one I choose shall be Kobin bids
young David of Don caster. So get thee upon the wall, David, young David of
and hide beneath the woodbine so as to keep watch." watch for whoso

Accordingly young David did as he was bidden, the others may come-
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.

146 ROBIN COMPASSETH THE MARRIAGE OF TWO LOVERS.

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 naught 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 field-fares are flying over the hill ;
but naught 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

The old Porter makes waves in the barley field ; and now over the hill to the

cometh to open 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 thy
self 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 be
ing 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
Friar Tuck talk- Tuck, and I go no farther than this spot, if thou wilt haply but
etk with the 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, which same suffered the sharpest martyrdom that ever befell a
woman, to wit, she had her tongue cut out, so that she could speak no more
words than a dead jackdaw, as it were. But what befell ? Marry, listen.
Straight came this blessed woman to that same fountain, — so it was, and yet I
am fain to confess that ne'er ha I got much good from the waters thereof ; for

ROBIN COMPASSETH THE MARRIAGE Of TWO LOVERS. 147

cold water doth ever stir my inward parts with certain gripings and what
not."

" But," piped the old brother, in his high, wheezing voice, " I do much wish
to know what befell this holy woman upon coming to that same blessed foun
tain."

" Marry, a' drank o' the waters, and straightway regained that which an evil-
minded fellow might say, and many might think, was no such heavenly gift,
and that was her powers of speech. But, if I understand aught, there is to be
a gay wedding here to-day ; 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 Little yoftn and
with Little John and Will Stutely, had come to the church. Wilt stutely go

_... ,. , . ,1-1,, T • i T i •*** the church.

Robin sat him down on a bench beside the door, but Little J ohn, whilst Robin sits
carrying the two bags of gold, went within, as did Will Stutely. by the door'

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 The Bishop of
vestments were of the richest silk, and around his neck was a fair Hereford and
chain of beaten gold. The cap that hid his tonsure was of black Emmet come to
velvet, and around the edges of it were rows of jewels that flashed thechurch-
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 retain
ers 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

148 ROBIN COMPASSETH THE MARRIAGE OF TWO LOVERS.

laughing between themselves about certain fair dames, their words more befit
ting the lips of laymen, methinks, than holy clerks. Then they dismounted,
The Bishop of and the Bishop, looking around, presently caught sight of Robin
%htrRobteak' standing in the doorway. " Hilloa, good fellow," quoth he, in a
Hood. 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 mar
ries 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 Ste
phen) 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
Robin -will not ^or<^ bishop's bidding. In sooth I will not play until the bride
play for the 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 lady-love."

And now, around the bend of the high-road, 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 car
riage and of his gray hairs. Beside him rode a stout Saxon franklin, Ellen's
Sir Stephen and father, Edward of Deirwold ; behind those two came a litter
for father come borne by two horses, and therein was a maiden whom Robin
to the church. knew must be Ellen. Behind this litter rode six men-at-arms, the
sunlight flashing on their st^eel 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

5ir-$tephen-and-his- Bri

ROBIN COMPASSETH THE MARRIAGE OF TWO LOVERS. 151

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 Robin Hood stops
such as befit a bonny bride. This is no fit wedding. Thou, Sir the marrtag£-
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, whilst every one
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 Little John and
upon either side of Robin Hood, and quickly drew their broad- ^^ff^ej^n
swords, the while a mighty voice rolled over the heads of all : Hood's aid.
" 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, come at Robin's
The men-at-arms fell back, and up the aisle came leaping eight-

152 ROBIN COMPASSETH THE MARRIAGE OF TWO LOVERS.

een 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 be
longed 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 be
trothed 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, whilst everything was in turmoil about him, Sir Stephen
had been standing in proud and scornful silence. " Nay, fellow," said he,
Sir Stephen -will co^y, " thou mayst take thy daughter back again ; I would not
have naught to marry her after this day's doings could I gain all merry England
EUettiOndw thereby. I tell thee plainly, I loved thy daughter, old as I am,
lefves^he 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." But Sir Stephen
neither answered nor looked up, but passed out from the church as though he
had heard naught, 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
Robin Hood will laid h°ld of his clothes and held him. " Stay, my Lord Bishop,"
not let the 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

ROBIN COMPASSETH THE MARRIAGE OF TWO LOVERS. 153

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 Robin offers two
two hundred bright golden angels ; give thy blessing, as i say, J^iS^
and I will count them out to thee as thy daughter's dower. Give his blessing.
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 naught 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 marries Allan
Ellen were duly wedded. and Ellen.

And now Robin counted out two hundred golden angels to Edward of Deir-
wold, 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 hus
band, which she would not have done but for me ; so now fulfil 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

154 ROBIN COMPASSETH THE MARRIAGE OF TWO LOVERS.

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

Hereford, part, for thy handsome gift, and truly thou thyself art more seemly

though unwiii- without it. Now, shouldst thou ever come nigh to Sherwood I

ing, givetn fair .

Ellen a wedding much hope that I shall give thee there such a feast as thou hast
&ft- 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 wood
lands. 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
Friar Tuck life mightily." At this merry Robin Hood laughed amain, and
jams the band. 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.

Thus ends the merry story of Allan a Dale, and how Robin Hood and Friar
Tuck benefited him. And now we shall hear anon of other troubles than those
that beset gentle lovers, and how Robin Hood helped a good stout knight that
was in sore need of aid. So listen to what follows.

PART FIFTH.

In which it is told how that Robin Hood met a sorrowful knight, and
brought him to Sherwood. Also, how the Bishop of Hereford was
more generous than he desired to be. Likewise it is told how Sir
Richard of the Lea paid his debts in due season, both to the Prior
of Emmet and to Robin Hood.

Robin Hood aideth a Sorrowful Knight.

|O 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 foli
age, 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

158 ROBIN HOOD AIDETH A SORROWFUL KNIGHT.

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 haws 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 winter time, 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, whilst 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 bring-
eth 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 haft to blade. I '11 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.

Room Hood and

Little John, each Now, you and I cannot go two ways at the same time whilst we
'^folih'TS'k J°in in these merry doings ; so we will e'en let Little John follow
eTts f°dine in his °Wn pat^ wni^e we tu°k UP our skirts and trudge after Robin
Hood. And here is good company, too ; Robin Hood, Will Scar
let, 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 home-coming, but all the rest were gone either with Robin Hood
or Little John.

They travelled 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 good wives 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 noon
tide 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

ROBIN HOOD AIDETH A SORROWFUL KNIGHT. 159

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, Robin and his
whence they could watch the roads at their ease, whilst they ate band rest at the

. cross-roads to

their midday meal. Quoth merry Robin, "Here, methinks, is eat their midday
good lodging, where peaceful folk, such as we be, can eat in qui- meal'
etness ; 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 high-roads 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 The veomen see
where Robin and his band lay hidden. He was a good stout a sorrmvfui

1-1-1 rirr /•• T • i -i knight COHie

knight, but sorrowful of face and downcast of mien. His clothes riding down the
were plain and rich, but no chain of gold, such as folk of his stand hl11'
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, whilst
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 goMn Hood
to come near him. So, presently, when the Knight came riding st°£s the Knisht'
slowly along, jolly Robin stepped forward and laid his hand upon the bridle

160 ROBIN HOOD AIDETH A SORROWFUL KNIGHT.

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 traveller 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 call-
eth 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 re-
gardest 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 re
gard 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
Robin Hcodasks sP°ke as ^ou^ anc^ bring good will in the stead of blows.' Now I
the Knight to will show thee the truth of this saying ; for, if thou wilt go with

come and feast « » « <-., T --M • i r

•with them in 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 high-roads 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 further
more tell thee that we count upon pur 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."

ROBIN HOOD AIDETH A SORROWFUL KNIGHT. 161

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 hg h(
not why I should be ashamed, for it should be no shame to me ; owneth to Robin
but, friend, I tell thee the truth, when I say that in my purse are naught fait \en
ten shillings, and that that is every groat that Sir Richard of the Billings.
Lea hath in a1! 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 R0binwuinot
bring low, but those that walk in sorrow I would aid if I could, dmbt the
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, whilst
the rest of the band trudged behind.

After they had travelled 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 The Knigjlt teu_
owe. Three days hence the money must be paid or else all mine etk Robin Hood

i r ' r r ,, i r t T-. • *** story as they

estate is lost forever, for then it falls into the hands of the Priory journey toward
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 man
ner 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

162 ROBIN HOOD AIDETH A SORROWFUL KNIGHT.

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 haft ; 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 sepulchre. 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 blood-suckers ! " 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 sepulchre."

Then up spake Will Scarlet. " But hast thou no friend that will help thee
in thy dire need ? "

" Never a man," said Sir Richard. " Whilst 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
Robin biddeth the no ^oast, but many have found Robin Hood a friend in their
Knight to cheer troubles. Cheer up, Sir Knight, I may help thee yet."

The Knight shook his head with a faint smile, but for all that

ROBIN HOOD AIDETH A SORROWFUL KNIGHT. 163

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

f J Robin findeth

John had corne back with some guest, but when they came near guests in thefor-
enough, who 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 tem
pest. 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 over large, 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 lord
ship 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 peace- The Bishop Oj-
fully along the high-road with our packhorses, and a half score of Hereford com-

J • r 11 r n plaineth of Little

men to guard them, when up comes a great strapping tellow lull johnandof
seven feet high, with fourscore or more men back of him, and Friar Tnck-
calls upon me to stop — me, the Lord Bishop of Hereford, mark thou ! Where
upon 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, beside 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. Moreover, when I came here I found a great fat man, a
mock priest, that slapped me upon the shoulder as though I, God wot, were a
pot-house fellow."

" Marry, come up with a wanion ! " cried Friar Tuck, bustling forward and
thrusting himself in front of the Bishop ; " Marry come up, I say ! " and he

164 ROBIN HOOD AIDETH A SORROWFUL KNIGHT.

snapped his fingers under the Bishop's nose, whereat the other started back as
though the snap were a clap of thunder. " Mock priest ! thou callest me, for
sooth ! Look ye now, Bishop, I wot I am as holy a man as thou art, and might
have been a bishop mine own self, had I not been born under a hedge. I am
as learned, too, as thou art, albeit I could never master that vile Latin, my
tongue being only shaped for good stout English ; yet I tell thee, I can say
my ' Paters ' and ' Aves ' with no more a slip o' the tongue than thou, thou fat
man ! "

At this the Bishop glared upon the stout Friar like an angry cat, whilst even
Sir Richard laughed ; only Robin kept a grave face. " Stand back, Tuck,"
said he, " thou shouldst not beard his lordship's reverence in this wise. Alas !
my lord, 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."
Robin Hood pre- "And didst thou, Little John," said Robin, in a sad voice, "call
tends to take Lit- 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 whilst
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, whilst some went to kindle the fires for roasting meats, others ran leap
ing to get their cudgels and long bows. Then Robin brought forward Sir

ROBIN HOOD AIDETH A SORROWFUL KNIGHT. 165

Richard o' the Lea. " My Lord Bishop," said he, " here is another guest that
we have with us this day. I wish that thou mightst 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 The Bishop of
was about to say " thieves," but he stopped suddenly and looked Hereford re-

^ -r. i • T T j preaches Sir

askance at Robin Hood. Richard of the

" Speak out, Bishop," quoth Robin, laughing. " We of Sher- Lea-
wood check not an easy flow of words. ' Den of thieves ' thou wast 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 deer skins 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, stretch-

T-I i •** yeomen

ing themselves upon the ground near by. Then a garland was shoot before the
set up at the far end of the glade, and thereat the bowmen shot, ^rd°and Sr^
and such shooting was done that day as it would have made one's Richard of the
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.

Ten men shot three rounds of arrows each, and although the garland was but
three palms' breadth wide, and was full sevenscore yards distant, only two
arrows went without the ring. " By Our Lady, good friend," said the Bishop
to Robin, " never did I see such shooting in all my life as these men of thine
do. But I have heard so oft of thy skill, canst thou not show us a touch
of it ? "

" Why," quoth Robin, " the light groweth somewhat dim, and things begin
to glimmer, ne'ertheless I will try what I can do." So saying he Robin Hood
arose from where he sat, then, drawing his dagger, he cut a hazel ^ho^and the
wand a little greater in girth than a man's thumb, and peeling Knight.
the bark therefrom, he walked with measured steps fourscore yards distance.
There he thrust the staff into the ground and came back to where the others
sat, and Allan a Dale handed him his good stout yew bow, which Robin forth-

1 66 ROBIN HOOD AIDETH A SORROWFUL KNIGHT.

with strung. Then emptying his quiver upon the ground, he searched among
the arrows carefully till he had chosen one to his liking. Having so done, he
nocked the arrow and stood in position, and all around was so hushed that you
might have heard the falling of a leaf. Then he drew the string quickly to his
ear, and straightened his bow arm, and ere you could draw a breath loosed the
string with a twang. So swift flew the arrow that the eye could not follow it,
but a great shout went up from the yeomen when it had sped, and Will Scathe-
Robin Hood 1°°^ ran leaping and brought the wand, and lo, the arrow was
cleaves the wand, sticking in the wood which it had cleft. Then all the yeomen
shouted again till those about the fires came running, for they were proud of
their master's skill, which none could hope to match.

But meantime Robin had set him down again between his guests ; then,
without giving them time for word of praise, he called upon those of his band
who were the most deft at quarterstaff. So they sat and watched the game till
the shades of evening fell, and there was no light in which to give stroke or
parry.

Then Allan a Dale came forth and tuned his harp, and all was hushed
around, and he saner in his wondrous voice songs of love, of war,

Allan a Dale

sings before the 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
Robin Hood w*tn a rec* light. Then, straightway sitting down, all fell to with
feasts the Bishop noise and hubbub, the rattling of platters blending with the sound

of Hereford and . . &.

Sir Richard of ot loud talking and laughter. Along 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 ;
Robin Hood tell- whereupon, without more ado, he told them all about Sir Richard,
*Sir * Richard °/f anc* now n^s lands were in pawn. But, as he went on, the Bish-
the Lea. Op'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 fore
bodings. Then, when Robin Hood had done, he turned to the Bishop of Here
ford. " Now, my Lord Bishop," said he, " dost thou not think this is ill done

ROBIN HOOD AIDETH A SORROWFUL KNIGHT. 167

of any one, 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

' Robin Hood ask-

a WOrd. eth the Bishop to

Then Robin turned to Little John, and quoth he, " Go thou and aidthe Knigkt-
Will Stutely and bring forth those five pack-horses yonder." Whereupon the
two yeomen did as they were bidden, those about the cloth mak- £objn pfood or.
ing room on the green, where the light was brightest, for the five ^s ljie Bisfl-
horses which Little John and Will Stutely presently led forward. °to be brought"

" Who hath the score of the goods ? " asked Robin Hood, look- forih"
ing 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 Robin Hood di-
handed Robin the tablet on which was marked down the account Vtl0d^e feest f^-s
of the various packages upon the horses. This Robin handed to power.
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 without
being opened.

" 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

1 68 ROBIN HOOD AIDETH A SORROWFUL KNIGHT.

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
Will Scarlet sword straightway, and cut this box open, if thou canst." Then
0£ishofs*/lstron<r UP rose Wil1 Scarlet and left them, coming back in a short time,
box. bearing a great two-handed sword. Thrice he smote that strong,

iron-bound 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
Robin Hood di- said, like a winter hedge, for thou shalt take back one third of thy
vides the money. money. One third of it thou canst well spare to us for thy enter
tainment 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 Rich-
Kobin Hood of- ard, the church seemed like to despoil thee, therefore some of the
Richard *<>/ StL overplus ot church gains may well be used in aiding thee. Thou
Lea. 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

ROBIN HOOD AIDETH A SORROWFUL KNIGHT. 169

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 with
me."

" 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 treasure-house 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 man- Little John of-
ner, and so serve as retainers to Sir Richard till he can get oth- fland /s°auend-
ers in our stead." ants nP°n Sir

"Thou hast spoken well, Little John, and it shall be done," IM.
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 mil Scariet

tO wear at his heels." beggeth a chain

Then Robin Hood said, " Thou hast spoken well, Will Scarlet, #£% if gold
and it shall be done." for tlu ******'

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 Will Stutely
a present from Robin Hood and his merry men all." proposeth that

At this all clapped their hands for joy, and Robin said : "Thou goods as a prls-
hast well spoken, Will Stutely, and it shall be done." ent to Lady Lea-

Then Sir Richard o' 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.

1 70 ROBIN HOOD AIDETH A SORROWFUL KNIGHT.

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
Sir Richard forward Sir Richard's horse, and the Knight mounted. He looked
taketh leave of 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

Robin Hood con- •• « i T-. •

strains the Bish- must pay his debts to Emmet ; until that time thou must be
°ab^eHwUh0him content to abide with m« lest thou breed trouble for the Knight.
in the green- 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 some
time 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.

II.

How Sir Richard of the Lea paid his Debts

to Emmet.

THE long highway stretched straight on, gray and dusty in the sun. On
either side were dykes 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, sir Richard of
gathered in at the waist with a broad leathern belt, from which ^idi^gtl0 Emmet
hung a long dagger and a stout sword. But though he was so Priory.
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 dykes, 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 haft 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, whilst a tame starling that hung in a wicker cage within piped out,
" In ccelo quies ! In ccelo 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 o' 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

1/2 HOW SIR RICHARD OF THE LEA PAID HIS DEBTS.

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 cobble-stones, whereat a flock of pigeons that strutted in the sun flew
with flapping wings to the high eaves of the round towers.

Whilst 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
entertai™ the Emmet all clad in soft robes of fine cloth and silk ; on his head

Sheriff of Not- wag a kjack velvet cap picked out with gold, and around his neck

tingnam and tne

man of law at hung a heavy chain of gold, with a great locket pendant there
from. 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 weazened 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 SIR RICHARD OF THE LEA PAID HIS DEBTS. 173

" 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, whilst 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, whilst his men-at- Sir Richard Of
arms stood about the door. When he had come to where the the Lea begs

T-i-111 i r* f^- mercy of the

Prior sat, he knelt upon one knee. "Save and keep thee, Sir Prior of Em-
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."

1/4 HOW SIR RICHARD OF THE LEA PAID HIS DEBTS.

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 bounden 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 Rich
ard," 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 an
other 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 ever 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

HO W SIR RICHARD OF THE LEA PAID HIS DEBTS. 177

men-at-arms stood near the door, he called, " Come hither," and beckoned with
his ringer; whereupon the tallest of them all came forward and handed him a
long leathern bag. Sir Richard took the bag and shot from it sir Richard of
upon the table a glittering stream of golden money. "Bear in the Lea payetk

i o • T> • » • i i < . i i i his debt, to the

mind, Sir Prior, said he, " that thou hast promised me quittance prior' s confu-
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 The yieria- Of
stone. At last he gasped out, " Reynold Greenleaf ! " Nottingham

...... , i i T • i meeteth an old

At this, the tall man-at-arms, who was no other than Little friend and
John, turned, grinning, to the Sheriff. " I give thee good den, fair knmoeth him-
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 be
hind him, and little hunger had they for the princely food spread before them.
Only the learned doctor was happy, for he had his fee.

But now a twelvemonth and a day has passed since Prior Vincent of Emmet
sat at feast, as has just been told, and once more the mellow fall of another
year has 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.

1/8 HOW SIR RICHARD OF THE LEA PAID HIS DEBTS.

Bright shone the sun on battlement and tower, and in the blue air overhead
a flock of clattering jackdaws flew around the gilded weathervane 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
sir Richard of a goodly array of steel-clad men-at-arms, with a knight all clothed
the Lea sets jn chain-mail, as white as frost on briar and thorn of a winter

forth to pay his

debt to Robin morning, came flashing out from the castle courtyard. In his hand
^n°ddaa/ayrhav- tne Knight held a great spear, from the point of which fluttered a
ing passed. 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 to-day ? " quoth he.

"Please your worship," answered the man-at-arms, "a merry fair is held
there to-day, 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
Sir Richard well, " this will be a goodly thing to see. Methinks we have time
SK£pewyU%nthe to stay a little while on our journey, and see this merry sport."
fair at Denby. 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, bag-pipes 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 Rich
ard 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

HO W SIR RICHARD OF THE LEA PAID HIS DEBTS. 179

countryside as William with the Scar, had been biding his time with the Stoke
man ; so, when Egbert had thrown every one else, stout William William of the
leaped into the ring. Then a tough bout followed, and at last he Scar thrmveth

~ , , ., . Egbert of Stoke

threw Egbert heavily, whereat there was a great shouting and in the wrestling
shaking of hands, for all the Denby men were proud of their rmg'
wrestler.

When Sir Richard came, he found stout William, puffed up by the shouts of
his friends, walking up and down the ring, daring any one 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 for
ests, 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 stout ^imam's
quarterstaff in his hand came pushing his way through the crowd, challenge is
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 ? Me-
thinks 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 cun
ning 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 stout

in a pair of arms that fairly made his ribs crack. So, with heavy, meeteth his
hot breathing, they stood for a while straining, their bodies all stranger throw-
glistening with sweat, and great drops of sweat trickling down eth htm"
their faces. But the stranger's hug was so close that at last stout Wil
liam's muscles softened under his grip, and he gave a sob. Then the youth

i8o HOW SIR RICHARD OF THE LEA PAID HIS DEBTS.

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,
who was a kinsman to William of the Scar, rose with trembling lip and baleful
look. Quoth he, " If thou hast 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, whilst 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 mean time 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 cock-
eril ! " " Behold how he plumeth himself ! " "I dare swear he cast good Wil-

HOW SIR RICHARD OF THE LEA PAID HIS DEBTS. 181

liam unfairly ! " " Yea, truly, saw ye not bird-lime upon his hands ? " " It would
be well to cut his cock's comb!" To all this the stranger paid The men of
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, Denby fails upon
then ! " And of a sudden he struck a blow at the youth that th^ ^ranger, but

* getteth more

might have felled an ox. But the other turned the blow deftly than he bar-
aside, and gave back another so terrible that the Denby man went §ai1
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, The crowd over-
so that he staggered back, and the red blood gushed from the cut come the young
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, whilst
through the midst of the crowd Sir Richard of the Lea came

, . , . , /-~, i • i t Sir Richard of

spurring on his white horse. Then the crowd, seeing the steel- the Lea cometk
clad knight and the armed men, melted away like snow on the ^^tran'er'and
warm hearth, leaving the young man all bloody and dusty upon findeth an old
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."

1 82 HOW SIR RICHARD OF THE LEA PAID HIS DEBTS.

" 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 mean time 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 midcountry, who only last spring had cast stout Adam o' Lincoln in
the ring at Selby, in Yorkshire, and now held the midcountry 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 har
ries the dove-cote. I have bought the pipe of wine from him, and now I give
it freely to you to drink as ye list. But never hereafterwards 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 with the Scar at Denby fair."

Robin Hood stood in the merry greenwood with Little John and most of his
sir Richard stout yeomen around him, awaiting Sir Richard's coming. At
cometh to keep 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.

HOW SIR RICHARD OF THE LEA PAID HIS DEBTS. 183

" Why, how now," said Robin, after a time, holding Sir Richard off and look
ing 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 packhorses."

But Robin stopped them. " 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 drank ; whereupon, taking Sir Richard by the hand, he led him
to the seat beneath the greenwood tree, whilst 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 Rgbin Hood
was done, the Knight called upon his men to bring the pack- feasts sir Kick-
horses forward, which they did according to his bidding. Then
one of the men brought the Knight a strong box, which he opened and took
from it a bag and counted out five hundred pounds, the sum of the money "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

1 84

HO W SIR RICHARD OF THE LEA PAID HIS DEBTS.

present from
himself and
Lady Lea.

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
Sir Richard of a great shout went up that made the forest ring again, for lo,
the Leagiveth there were tenscore bows of finest Spanish yew, all burnished till

Robin Hood and _ ....

his band a noble 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 also was feathered with peacock's plumes and 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, whilst
each arrow in his quiver was innocked with gold.

Then all shouted again for joy of the fair gift, and all swore among them
selves 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.

Now listen, and you shall next hear of certain merry adventures that befell
Robin Hood and Little John, and how one turned beggar and the other bare
foot friar ; likewise what each gained thereby.

LITTLE- JOHN- journeys. in-Holy.

PART SIXTH.

In which it is told how that Robin Hood and Little John turned, the
one a beggar and the other a strolling Friar, and went forth to seek
adventures. Likewise it is told how Little John prayed to some
purpose, and how Robin Hood drubbed four beggars and outwitted
a corn engrosser.

Pfi " • . " I- . \ ' • '-

Little John turns Barefoot Friar.

OLD 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 plough-boy 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 hands for joy.

On a deer's hide, stretched on the ground in the open in front of the green
wood 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

1 88 LITTLE JOHN TURNS BAREFOOT FRIAR.

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 gen
tle springtime than be king of all rnerry 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 bow-string 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 emp
tied 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

Friar Tuck touched his forefinger to his forehead in thought, b -mming to

singeth a merry himself, and stopping ever and anon to fit what he nad got to

what he searched for in his mind. At last he foun^ 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 a plenty to cat and to drink :

LITTLE JOHN TURNS BAREFOOT FRIAR. 189

For the good-wife 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 hearfs 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 clone, 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 re
member 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 /;#//, y0/,n pu[.
they came forth again, and a mighty roar of laughter went up, for tetjl °" ********

J of a grav friar,

not only had the band never seen Little John in such guise be- and he 'and Roi>

fore, but the robe was too short for him by a good palm's breadth. ^ ^"st^ofad-
But Little John's hands were folded in his loose sleeves, and Lit- venturf*.
tie John's eyes were cast upon the ground, and at his girdle hung a great, long
string of beads.

"Tut, tut !" quoth Friar Tuck, nudging him with his elbow, "look not down
in that way ; raise thine eyes boldly, or else ali will know thee to be a cheat,

190 LITTLE JOHN TURNS BAREFOOT FRIAR.

and ne'er a lass will give thee a smile, and ne'er a goodvvife a crust, in all the
countryside." At this all laughed again, swearing that never was there so
strapping a friar in all merry England as Little John made.

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
Robin Hood and lustily along all in the misty morning. Thus they walked down
^nhe^forking^f the forest path until they came to the highway, and then along
the roads. 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, v/histling, 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,
Little John fall- anc* so at last ne came to a cross-road that led to Tuxford. Here
eth in with three he met three pretty lasses, each bearing a basket of eggs to mar
ket. Quoth he, "Whither away, fair maids ? " And he stood in
their path, with his legs apart, 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."

LITTLE JOHN TURNS BAREFOOT FRIAR. 191

At this speech all three of the pretty maids looked down, blushing and sim
pering. 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.

" Nay," quoth Little John, roundly, "holy man or no holy man, I know a
fair lass when I see her, and if e'er a man hereabouts sayeth ye are not the fair
est three in all Nottinghamshire, I '11 knock his vile teeth down his lying throat
with this stout staff. Hear ye that, now ! "

Then all the lasses cried, " La ! " again.

" Now, look you," said Little John, " I cannot see such dainty damsels as ye
are carrying baskets along a high-road. 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. uttie John
Look ye, now. Here I take this great basket, so ; here I tie my turneth his wits

J ' •> to devising a

rosary around the handle, thus; and here I slip the rosary over plan whereby he
my head and sling the basket upon my back, in this wise." And ^hreeTaskets* of
Little John did according to his words, the basket hanging down e?ss-
behind him like a pedler'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 every one 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 Lit
tle 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 uttle John Uav-
of the pottle upon his sleeve. Then each lass took a fair drink etk the lasses

r . . . . ,n iT-i near Tuxford.

oi 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

I9.2 LITTLE JOHN TURNS BAREFOOT FRIAR.

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 or
ders."

" 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 him
self, 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 travelling, and speaking of rich

Little Jonn cotn- r !'-«'« r n

eth to an inn guests in the parlor. In front of the door three merry fellows, a
mfr/y'^pany tinker, a pedler, and a beggar, were seated on a bench in the sun
thereat. 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 JOHN TURNS BAREFOOT FRIAR. 193

little away 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 noth
ing in it, and heaved a full deep sigh, looking at the others with moist eyes and
shaking his head solemnly.

" Ho, landlord ! " cried the Pedler, " bring this good fellow another pot of
ale, for truly it is a credit to us all to have one amongst 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 smelt the steam of a boiled Thg be?sar feU,
pullet just now. The landlady sayeth they come from Fountain eth Little John
Abbey, in Yorkshire, and go to Lincoln on matters of business." if Fountain

" They are a merry couple," said the Tinker, " for one is as Abbfy-
lean as an old wife's spindle, and the other as fat as a suet pudding."

" Talking of fatness," said the Pedler, " thou thyself lookest none too ill-fed,
holy friar."

" Nay, truly," said Little John, " thou seest in me what the holy Saint Dun-
stan can do for them that serve him upon a handful of parched pease 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 Liule ~hn sin _
the Tinker. eth a goodly

At this Little John cleared his throat, and, after a word or two song'
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 'II 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
13

194 LITTLE JOHN TURNS BAREFOOT FRIAR.

two brothers of Fountain Abbey, the landlord following them, and, as the say
ing is, washing his hands with humble soap. But when the brothers of Foun
tain 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
The brothers of eyebrows together in a mighty frown, and the thin Brother twist-
Fountain Abbey ing Up his face as though he had sour beer in his mouth. Then,
Cjo/m t'nhissing- as Little John gathered his breath for a new verse, " How, now,"
ins- 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. Is it not so, brother ? "

At this the Tinker and the Pedler 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'
Little John say. bridles for you. Truly, your words have smitten my sinful heart,
ah that he will that j wijj abide no longer in this den of evil, but will go for-

%o forward with , MI r n

tht brothers. ward with you. No vile temptation, I wot, will tall 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 v/ith shame to think
of riding along the high-road 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

LITTLE JOHN TURNS BAREFOOT FRIAR. 195

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 ale-house. Nay, if these
most holy brothers of mine do but give me the word, I '11 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 naught 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 Little John and
go, we three." So saying, he swung his stout staff over his *of Fountain* Ab-
shoulder and trudged off, measuring his pace with that of the two bey leave the inn.
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, whilst they rode on the footpath on either
side of the way. As they so went away, the Tinker, the Pedler, and the Beggar
ran skipping out into the middle of the highway, each with a pot in his hand,
and looked after them laughing.

Whilst they were in sight of those at the inn the two 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

196 LITTLE JOHN TURNS BAREFOOT FRIAR.

boil our pot a little faster, for the day is passing on. So if 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 travelled 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
Little John and amain to see a Gray Friar with such short robes walking in the
meeUhreeifrvU- middle of the road, and two brothers, with heads bowed with
ing minstrels. shame, riding upon richly-caparisoned cobs on the foot-paths.
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 a stout burgher and his wife and their two fair daugh-
. ters, all dressed in their Sunday best, riding from their cousin's

Lime john and .

the two friars house in the country back to Tuxford again. These Little John
™urgLr°and his saluted gravely. Quoth he, " Good den, good folk. Here we go,
•wife and his two we three." At this the women stared, for women do not take a
joke so quickly as men ; but the merry old burgher laughed till
his fat side shook and his cheeks grew red and water stood in his eyes.

Then the third they met were two noble knights in rich array, with hawk on
Little John and wr"ist. and likewise two fair ladies clad in silks and velvets, all
the two friars a-riding on noble steeds. These all made room, staring, as Little

meet two noble T ... . IT^I T • i

knights and two John and the two friars came along the road, lo them Little
fair ladies. John bowed humbly. "Give you greeting, 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."

LITTLE JOHN TURNS BAREFOOT FRIAR. 197

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 cross-road 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 to-day, though I can ill spare your company. I know ye will miss
me, but gin ye want me again, whisper to Goodman Wind, and Ljttie y0^n ^eg.
he will bring news thereof to me. But ye see I am a poor man f^A a P^nny of

. the two friars

and ye are rich. I pray you give me a penny or two to buy me ere he leavetk
bread and cheese at the next inn." them~

"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
clown straightway from off your horses, and we will kneel here in the middle
of the cross-roads 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. " Dost 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 beg
garly 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 straight
way, for my patience will not last much longer, and I may forget that ye are

1 98 LITTLE JOHN TURNS BAREFOOT FRIAR.

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 ; there
upon, putting his heavy hands upon the shoulder of each, he forced them to
Little John and their knees, he kneeling also. Then Little John began to be-
the two friars seech Saint Dunstan for money, which he did in a great loud

pray to Saint A r i i i i

Dunstan for 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 some
what 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

Saint Dunstan . ,

answereth Lit- and ten pounds of golden money. " I thought, quoth Little
'fr^erwitk John, " that thou hadst missed, in some odd corner of thy pouch,
great bountiful- 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

LITTLE JOHN TURNS BAREFOOT FRIAR. 199

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 hence- Little John tak-
forth." So saying, he turned and left them, striding away. The tmfrianrf
friars looked at one another with a woful look, and slowly and Fountain Abbey.
sadly they mounted their horses again and rode away with never a word.

But Liitle 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.

II.

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 swell
ing 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 dwelt upon boiled ca
pons, 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, Mar
ian, and this same crust should be as crisp and brittle as the thin white ice

ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEGGAR. 20 1

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 pottles, 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 Robin Hood com-
sizes and kinds, a dozen or more, with great, wide, gaping mouths, e/^/rsttSn^"f
like a brood of hungry daws. His coat was gathered in at his upon a stile.
waist, and was patched with as many colors as there are stripes upon a May
pole 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 twink
led and danced with merriment, and his black hair curled close all over his
head in little rings of kinkyness.

" 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 mag
pie. 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

202 ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEGGAR.

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
earnest 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
't is 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 ioy for what thou tellest me so

Robin Hood of- J J

fereth the Beg- sweetly. If thou wilt give me to eat, I. will straightway hie me

tO that Httle inn th°U didst tdl °f but

of the victuals of ale for thy drinking and mine."

the other hath. ,,,.,, -r. ti- j

" 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

ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEG GAP. 203

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 Robin Hood and
gurgle of ale as it left the skin. %£$«/&

At last, after a long time had passed thus, Robin pushed the tree.
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 whilst I talk to thee. Thus it is : I would have thee know

Robin Hood hk-

that I have taken a liking to thy craft and would fain have a eth the Beggar's
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. 1
I tell thee, lad, thou art too old to enter upon that which it may take thee years
to catch the hang of."

" 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 traveller that thou wouldst meet would beat thee to a
pudding for thrusting thy nose into a craft that belongeth not to thee."

1 Classes of travelling mendicants that infested England as late as the middle of the seventeenth cen
tury. Vide Dakkar's English Villainies, etc.

204 ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEGGAR.

" Nevertheless," quoth Robin, " I would have a try at it ; and methinks I
Robin Hood pro- shall change clothes with thee, for thy garb seemeih to be pretty,
Pdo?Lt0wM*ihe not to say gay- So not onlY wil1 l change clothes, but I will give
Beggar. 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 travelling 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,

Robin Hood wmcn the yeoman turned. Three blows the Beggar struck, yet

fighteth with the never one touched so much as a hair of Robin's head. Then

stout Robin saw his chance, and, ere you could count three, Ric-

con'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-

Kobin Hood J

avercometh the 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

ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEGGAR. 205

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 wits Robin
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

•* Robin Hood

day. But stout Riccon of Holywell skipped and leaped and changes clothes
danced for joy of the fair suit of Lincoln green that he had so with the Bessar-
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.

206 ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEGGAR.

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 plough-horses stood in the furrow

Robin Hood sets

forth as a beg- munching, with great bags over their noses holding sweet food,
the ploughman sat under the hedge and the plough-boy 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
Robin Hood com- board that rested upon his breast. One board had written upon
lLffieg{a"sm h' " T am blind," another, " I am deaf," another, " I am dumb," and
a dingle* 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 some one 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 whilst 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 un
strapped his own leg, and was sitting with it stretched out upon the grass so

ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEGGAR. 207

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

J J ° Robtn Hood

to see me, seeing that I bring sight to the blind, speech to the drinketh with
dumb, hearing to the deaf, and such a lusty leg to a lame man. tiem-
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 ? J> 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
Abram-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 ? " *

" 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

1 /. f., in old beggar's cant, " beaten a man or gallant upon the highway for the money in his purse."
Dakkar's English Villainies.

208 ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEGGAR.

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 speak-
,. . ,. . ing, and the Blind man snatched up a heavy knotted cudgel that

The beggars find *• J

that Robin Hood lay beside him on the grass, as did the others likewise. Then
is only a cheat. 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, clappe ^ 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 pot-house
door ! Are ye mad ? I have done you no harm."

" Thou liest!" quoth the one who pretended to be blind, and who, being the
The Blind man lustiest villain, was the leader of the others; "thou liest! for thou
faiieth tipon hast come amongst us as a vile spy. But thine ears have heard

Robin, but get- f

tetk the worst of too much tor 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 cud
gel, 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 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
RMn Hood °^ a sudden leaped upon them, striking even as he leaped. Down
smiteth down the went the Dumb man, and away flew his cudgel from his hand

Dumb man and . , , , ,

the others take as he fell. At this the others ducked to avoid another blow,
to their keels. 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

ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEGGAR. 209

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 ringers 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 mightily heavy. " It were a Robin Hood
sweet thing," said he to himself, " if this were filled with gold $^
instead of copper pence." Then, sitting down upon the grass, he blind rogue.
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 Robin Hood
he, " Sweet friends, I drink your health and thank you dearly for *J£2rt&&
what ye have so kindly given me this day, and so I wish you upon his way.
good den." Then, taking up his staff, he left the spot and went merrily upon
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. As for the treasury of the
Beggars' Guild at the Inn of the Beggar's Bush, near Lincoln Town, it was two
hundred pounds poorer than it would have been had bold Robin not met the
blind man, the deaf man, the dumb man, and the lame man nigh to the high
road that led to Blyth.

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,
whilst 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 hon
est 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 Oiler-
ton, and, being somewhat tired, he sat him down to rest upon the grassy bank in

210 ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEGGAR.

front of it. " It groweth nigh time," quoth he to himself, " that I were getting
Robin Hood Dac^ agam to Sherwood ; yet it would please me well to have one
rests at the cross 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 some one drawing near, riding upon a horse. When

the traveller came nigh enough for him to see him well, Robin

fie seeln. a

strange man laughed, for a strange enough figure he cut. He was a thin, wea
zened 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. The poor nag's neck bent down instead of up, as most horses' do, and
his mane was as ragged as though the mice had made nests in it ; his backbone
stood up sharp and jagged, like a new-turned furrow when the plough first
passes, and his ribs showed beneath his skin like the hoops on a barrel of five-
year-old ale. Thus the horse came hobbling along, and at every step the rider
popped up and down in his saddle, so that his head bobbed and wagged upon
his lean neck all in time to the motion of the nag. At this sight merry Robin
laughed till the tears stood on his cheeks, for, as though to make the sight still
more droll, the rider wore great clogs upon his feet instead of shoon, the soles
whereof were made of wood half a palm's breadth in thickness, and studded all
over with great nails.

But although Robin laughed, 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 every one that knew aught of him.

Quoth Robin to himself, when he saw who it was that came, " Oho, my thiev
ing magpie ! It is thou, is it ? Now I would that I could pluck thee bare, even
to the naked skin ! But thou art so sly that I misdoubt finding aught of thy
ill-gotten gains upon thee so nigh to Sherwood. Nevertheless, I will see what
can be done ; for, as Gaffer Swanthold says, ' If Ned never tries, Ned never
does.' "

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,
Robin ffood nis baSs and pouches dangling about him, and laid his hand upon
stops the Corn the horse's bridle-rein, calling upon the other to stop.

'a far- " 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."

by-ih

Crofj.
nigh

Oiler-

ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEGGAR. 213

'• 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."

" Dost 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 find
ing 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 Koi,in ff00d
money from his breast, and showed to the dazzled eyes of the ^veth strange

J J things to the

Corn Engrosser the bright golden pieces. " Friend, these rags Com Engrosser.
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 to-night
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 En-

214 ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEGGAR.

grosser, " 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
Robin Hood and reach Newark." So off they went, the lean horse hobbling along
erttfwrlfrwM/' as Before, and Robin running beside, albeit he was so quaking
along together. with laughter within him that he could hardly stand ; yet he dared
not laugh aloud, lest the Corn Engrosser should suspect something. So they
travelled 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."

The Com En- " Peace, friend," said the Corn Engrosser, "for this is no matter
grosser telieth £or jestjncr The soles of these clogs are not what they seem to

Kooin Hood a . .

great secret. 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 laugh
ter, 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

ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEGGAR. 215

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 Sher- Rgbin Hood
wood, or mayhap some day thou mayst of a sudden find a cloth- g°flh no farther,
yard shaft betwixt thy ribs. So, with this, I give thee good den." grosser traveiuth
Hereupon he clapped his hand to the horse's flank and off went omoard barefoot.
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

2l6

ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEGGAR.

of their merry
adventures to
those in Sher
wood.

hear Robin Hood and Little John tell their adventures. First Little John
began and told about his meeting with the three lasses, amid

Robin Hood and .

Little John tell great shouts of laughter, for he was quaint of speech, and told his
doings merrily. Then Robin told of his meeting the stout beg
gar, and what befell behind the hedge under the lime tree.
Then Little John told of meeting the good fellows at the inn, and
Robin told of his adventure with the four beggars, and showed the money
he had taken from them. Last of all, Little John told how he had prayed
to Saint Dunstan with the Gray Friars, and showed the gold that the Saint
had sent him. This Robin matched with his story of meeting the Corn En
grosser at the cross near Ollerton, and held up the shoes that he had taken
from the lean man. 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
Friar Tuck and had a pretty time, but still I hold to my saying, that the life of
^ildli/erenty *" the barefoot friar is the merrier of the two."

minds. " 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.

After you have settled the matter in your minds, we will see how merry
Robin went to famous London Town, and how he shot with the long bow before
Queen Eleanor ; likewise we will hear of the adventures that befell him there
after ; so listen to what follows.

ALLAN-A-DALE • SINGETH- BE=

FORE'OVR-GOOD-QVEEN
EANOR-

•/"\DCCCXXCJll'

Young.RlCHARD -PARTINCTON- comcfh- to- feck

PART SEVENTH.

/« which it is told how Queen Eleanor sent for Robin Hood to come
to the Court at famous London Town, and how Robin Hood came
at her bidding. Likewise, it is told how King Henry chased Robin
through the land, yet caught him not.

Robin and Three of his Merry Men shoot be
fore Queen Eleanor in Finsbury Fields.

HE high-road 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 dragon-fly
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 Richard Par-
had so lovely a lad or one so gayly clad been seen in Netting- tington cometh to

. . - __ . , , . Shenvood upon

ham before. He could not have been more than sixteen years the bidding of
of age, and was as fair as any maiden. His long yellow hair Queen

220 ROBIN AND HIS MEN SHOOT BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR.

flowed behind him as he rode along, all clad in silk and velvet, with jewels flash
ing 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 Sher
wood 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 ;
Kichard Par- wherefore young Partington was right glad when he saw before

^ihfmueToar him a sweet little inn» a11 shady and c°o1 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
The Pa%e is green began whispering together. Then one of the two, whom
spoken to by two partington thought to be the tallest and stoutest fellow he had

yeomen in Ltn-

coin green. ever beheld, spoke up and said, "What seekest thou ot 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 sunburnt
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 Par-

ROBIN AND HIS MEN SHOOT BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR. 221

tington. " 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

11 i T-L 1.^1- i ^i. ^ 11 -j <mr The two yeomen

nodded. Thereupon both arose, and the tall yeoman said, " We guide young
think thou art true, Sir Page, and meanest no harm, therefore we ^BrtwI/ssEr.
will guide thee to Robin Hood as thou dost wish." wood Forest and

„,, T, .. -jr.- j >.u r to Robin Hood.

Then Partmgton paid his score, and the yeomen coming for
ward, they 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, whilst 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 a sound of 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

•11 i-,- -11 i , i i-. . . T-, The Queen's

so richly clad in silks and velvets and gold and jewels. Then Page cometh be-
Robin Hood arose and stepped forth to meet him, and Partington ^jSlSiJfc*
leaped from his horse, and doffing his cap of crimson velvet, met majesty* bid-

T-» i • i dins;.

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 greeting 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 Sher
wood 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."

222 ROBIN AND HIS MEN SHOOT BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR.

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 ;
Robin Hood therefore I will get me ready presently. I will choose three of
chooseth three of my men, only, to go with me, and these three shall be Little John,
witkhimtT mine own true right-hand man, Will Scarlet, my cousin, and Allan
London Town. a DaiCj 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, whilst 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 be-
The Page and neath his cap a little head-covering of burnished steel set with
^avT^ie^en- rrvets °f g°ld, and underneath his jerkin a coat of linked mail, as
wood glade. 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 Page and the next night they lodged at Kettering, in Northamptonshire;
the four yeomen and the next at Bedford Town ; and the next at St. Albans, in

journey toward

London, which Hertfordshire. This place they left not long after the middle of
***mtktmirnof the night, and travelling fast through the tender dawning of the
the fifth day. 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, whilst 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

ROBIN AND HIS MEN SHOOT BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR. 223

her stood her ladies in waiting chatting in low voices, whilst 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 watted 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 Robin Hoodand
before the Queen with his hands folded upon his breast, saying, JJjfJjJ/JJJJ
in simple phrase, " Here am I, Robin Hood. Thou didst bid me Queen Eleanor.
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. The yeomen tell
Then they told her all of the lusty doings herein spoken of, and the Queen of

I-T.-I r T T f i • «*• their merry ad-

among others that concerning the Bishop of Hereford and Sir ventures in Sher-
Richard of the Lea, and how the Bishop had abided three days in wood ' Forest-
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 a Dale
Allan to sing to her, for his fame as a minstrel had reached even singeth before
to the court at London Town. So straightway Allan took 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 'ntath the dipping swallows,
Purpling where the breezes blow.

"J Floating on thy breast forever

Down thy current I could glide ;

224 ROBIN AND HIS MEN SHOOT BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR.

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, though loving, bliss is mine, love,
And my many troubles cease"

Thus Allan sang, and as he sang all eyes dwelt 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 morn
ing of lusty summer-time. Along the end of the meadow stood the booths for
the different bands of archers, for the King's yeomen were divided into com
panies 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 centre 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 Buckingham
shire. 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 centre of the north side was a raised dais for the
King and Queen, shaded by canvas of gay colors, and hung about with stream
ing 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. Eight-
score 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 and all waited 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

ROBIN AND HIS MEN SHOOT BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR. 225

upon a dapple-gray stallion, with his Queen beside him upon a milk-white pal
frey. On either side of them walked the yeomen of the guard, King Henry
the bright sunlight flashing from the polished blades of the steel
halberds they carried. Behind these came the Court in a great Fields.
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 be
decked 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, The Kino,s
as stalwart a band of yeomen as could be found in all the wide archers arr»y

.._, . , - , . , , . , ... themselves hi fore

world. So they came in orderly fashion and stood m front of the their royal mas-
dais where King Henry and his Queen sat. King Henry looked ter~
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, so that they could hear him even to the ends of the range, 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 Mowbray pro-
arrows apiece, and the one that shot the best should again be ^n'lTs'oft^meet,
chosen. Then each of these should again shoot three arrows likewise the

11 i ,i -111 r~ • prizes to be given.

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 four
score 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 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

226 ROBIN AND HIS MEN SHOOT BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR.

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
The fort score tne^r shaf ts and then making room for the men who shot, each in
archers shoot turn after them. Two hundred and eightyscore 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 favor
ite 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
The thirty arch- by each band. Not an arrow missed the targets, but in that of
ethecot^rsfsrh°oot Gilbert of the White Hand five arrows were in the small white
their shafts. spot that marked the centre ; 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 centre ; 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 whilst the deep buzz and hum of talking sounded all around like the
The Queen ask- n°ise °f the wind in the leafy forest, Queen Eleanor turned to the
eth strange ques- King, and quoth she, "Thinkest thou that these yeomen so chosen

tions of the Kin? . ,. „ . , , „

about his yea- are the very best archers in all merry England f
men- " 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

ROBIN AND HIS MEN SHOOT BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR. 227

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 pro
viding 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 The Ki
three fellows that thou speakest of I will promise faithfully to give pledges his -word

r , , , " to the Queen.

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 The Kin* offers
as thou hast so taken up of a sudden with sports of this kind, hast « wager to the

, , .. ., Queen.

thou a mind tor 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 a 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. The Queen tak.
"I will take thy wager," said she, "for I know right well where eth the King's
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 Here
ford ? "

" 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 majes- The Lord
ty's in all the world ; therefore I would but lose my money." Bishop of Here-

" Methinks the thought of thy gold weigheth more heavily with back The Queen
thee than the wrong to thy cloth," said the Queen, smiling ; and *'* her waser-
at this a ripple of laughter went around, for every one 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 matter ? " 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."

228 ROBIN AND HIS MEN SHOOT BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR.

Then turning to the King, Queen Eleanor said, " I want no such aid as Sir
Tke Queen will Robert giveth me ; but against thy wine and beer and stout bows
not have Sir of yew I wager this girdle all set with jewels from around my

Robert Lee's ••<•>•<•

backing to her waist ; and surely that is worth more than thine.
wager- " 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 Par-
tington, 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 ten archers the great crowd was hushed to the stillness of death. Slowly and
rt/ier" *sh"ot **' carefully each man shot his shafts, and so deep was the silence
again. 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 this noise and hubbub five men came walking across the
The Queen's lawn toward the King's pavilion. The first was Richard Parting-
Page cometh ton, and was known to most folk there, but the others were

across the lawn , , ,-, . , ,-> , . ,, ,

•with four strange strange to everybody. Beside young Partmgton walked a yeo-
yeomen. man 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. Whilst 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

ROBIN AND HIS MEN SHOOT BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR. 229

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

° r ° The Bishop of

saw the Queen gazing at him with a smile upon her lips, so he Hereford know-
said nothing, but bit his nether lip, whilst his face was as red as eth old frtends-
a cherry.

Then the Queen leaned forward and spake in a clear voice, " Locksley,"
said she, " I have laid 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 be
fore 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 out- The Bishop Of
lawed thief of the midcountry, named Robin Hood ; yon tall, Hereford teiieth

•11 • ,11 i <• T • i T i the King who

strapping villain goeth by the name of Little John ; the other the four strange
fellow in green is a certain backsliding gentleman, known as Will yeomen are-
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.
* The King is

" Yea," said the Queen, smiling, " the Bishop hath told the wroth at 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

230 ROBIN AND HIS MEN SHOOT BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR.

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 feath
ered.

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
The news of anc* three of his band, to wit, Little John, Will Scarlet, and Allan
Robin Hood's a Dale. The news of this buzzed around among the archers in

comine spread- , . . , , . ,

eth far and the booths, for there was not a man there that had not heard or
near' these great midcountry 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 ar-
Hubert of Snf- row > then> breathing upon his finger-tips, he drew the string
folk leadeth in 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 centre, 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 over-caution, he spoiled
Will Scarlet his target with the very first arrow that he sped, for he hit the

S'12£ next rin£ to the black> the second from the centre. At this
first arrow. Robin bit his lips. " Lad, lad," quoth he, " hold not the string

ROBIN AND HIS MEN SHOOT BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR. 231

so long ! Have I not often told thee what Gaffer Swanthold sayeth, that ' over-
caution spilleth the milk ? ' ' To this Will Scarlet took heed, so the next arrow
he shot lodged fairly in the centre ring ; again he shot, and again he smote
the centre ; 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 be
cause 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 over-heed to what
he was about, and so he fell into Will Scarlet's error. The first The Kin°'sb<rw-
arrow he struck into the centre ring, but the second missed its bearer, Tepus,

i i 111111 -1-111 shooteth next.

mark, and smote the black ; the last arrow was tipped with luck,
for it smote the very centre 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 Little ^ohn ouf_
shaft with his long bow raised ; yet all three of his arrows smote shoots stout Te~
the centre 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 over
come 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 Once again Gil-
all three shafts into the clout. £#£*21

" Well done, Gilbert ! " quoth Robin Hood, smiting him upon dean score-
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 cobble-stones 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 Ki Henry of-
second ring, I will give eightscore waxen candles three fingers' fers a prayer to

i 11- 1-1 i i •'••'«• i • » T-. • Saint Hubert.

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.

232 ROBIN AND HIS MEN SHOOT BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR.

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 whilst he talked,
yet the shaft lodged not more than half an inch from the very centre.

" 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
Robin Hood to°^ UP an°ther shaft and fitted it to the string. Again he shot,
shoots his three and again he smote his arrow close beside the centre ; a third

arrows in a . . .

•wondrous man- time he loosed his bowstring, and dropped his arrow just betwixt
the other two and into the very centre, 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 stout Gilbert clapped his palm to Robin's, owning that he could
owneth himself 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
to-morrow day if it can pleasure my most gracious lord and king. Take thy
place, Gilbert lad, and shoot."

Gilbert shooteth So Gilbert took his place once more, but this time he failed,
°bnt mfaetAtAe *or' a sudden little wmd arising, his shaft missed the centre ring,
•white. but by not more than the breadth of a barley straw.

" Thy eggs are cracked, Gilbert," quoth Robin, laughing ; and straightway
Robin Hood he loosed a shaft, and once more smote the white circle of the

lodges another rp-r\\rf*
arrow in the Centre.

centre ring. Then the King arose from his place, and not a word said he,

R OB IN AND HIS MEN SHO O 2 ' BEFORE Q UEEN ELEANOR. 233

but he looked around with a baleful look, and it would have been an ill day for
any one that he saw with a joyous or a merry look upon his face. The King leav-
Then he and his Queen and all the court left the place, but the ^^^ff
King's heart was brimming full of wrath within him. 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 midcountry ; 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. " Marry," quoth Little John to Will
Scarlet, " one would think that these poor fellows had never seen a stout yeo
man ranger in all their lives before, or that we were some curious spectacle,
like the Cumberland Giant, or the Welsh Dwarf, that we saw last month at the
fair at Norwich."

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 yeoman 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 them 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

, r r •, -, ™ •> Robin Hood and

King s guard, and to thee I freely give this purse of gold. Take Little John di-
it, man, and would it were ten times as much, for thou art a right ^mm^ttesTmtt
yeoman, good and true. Furthermore, to each of the ten that last archers of the

IT- r i /- -,-r i King1 s guard.

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

234 ROBIN AND HIS MEN SHOOT BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR.

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.

Whilst 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
One bringeth Partington, was seeking thee without avail in the crowd, and, not

I'nTfooSo/^' bein£ able to find thee> told me that he bore a message to thee
Kings -wrath. 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
Robin Hood and them privately that they had best be jogging, as it was like to be
men have 'LCV* ^ ^or them so nigh rnerry London Town. So, without tarrying
don Town. 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.

Thus ended the famous shooting match before Queen Eleanor. And now we
will hear how ill King Harry kept his promise to his Queen that no harm
should befall Robin Hood for forty days, in which time he might come and go
as he wished.

eth his promise
to the Queen of
Robin Hood's
safety.

II.

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 amongst the crowd that still lingered, seeking for The King break-
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 maj- The Bishop of
esty," quoth he, " that this knavish outlaw should be let to escape
in this wise ; for, let him but get back to Sherwood Forest safe Robin
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 bold
ness, your majesty, and believe that I have naught but the good of England
and your majesty's desirings at heart ; but what would it boot though my gra
cious 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

236 THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD.

finger upon a rat among the dust and broken things of a garret. Nay, my gra
cious lord, if he doth once plant foot in the woodland, he is lost to the law
forever."

At these words the King tapped his finger-tips 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. More
over, 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
The King listens myself, were I the King of England." So the Bishop talked, and
the KinS lent his ear to his evil counsel, until, after a while, he

of Hereford, and turned to Sir Robert Lee, and bade him send six of the yeomen

sends Sir Robert c , , «.«.*.«_'*%«••»* -,-,•,

Lee to do his bid- ot tne guard to take Robin Hood and his three men prisoners.
dmgm 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 ;
Sir Robert but he did not send the yeomen of the guard at once, but went
TTStofJiSR first to the Queen> and told her all that had passed, and bade her
danger. 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

THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD. 237

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 the 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 Bar-
net 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 Robin Hood and
will we take up our inn and rest for the night, for we are well JSrSSiS^B,
away from London Town and our King's wrath. Moreover, if I at Barnet Town,
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, un
cle, 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 women-folk.

" Come, come, Little John," quoth Robin, " leave the lass in peace, and fall to
thy victuals, or thou wilt belike go with an empty stomach. Eat first and woo
afterwards is as good a saying as one can open ears to."

" Nay," quoth Little John, boldly, " it is an ill saying for me, for who would
turn to victuals and drink and let so fair a lass go, without paying heed to the
sweet looks that the blessed saints have bestowed upon her ? Come hither,
thou dainty little duck, and pour forth some wine for me, that I may drink to
thy good health, and pray the good Saint Withold that he send thee what is
meet, to wit, a lord or an earl for a husband. By my soul, I would rather drink
water that thou hadst poured into my cup than rich Muscat after any other she
in all England ! "

238 THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD.

At this speech the other yeomen roared with laughter, and the lass looked
down, blushing, and thought that Little John was as nice a lad as she had seen
in all her life.

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
Young Richard King natn been bitterly stirred up against thee by that vile Bishop
Partington of Hereford. He sent to arrest thee at the archery butts at Fins-

warns Kobiii

Hood of his dan- bury 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 Here
ford 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 high-road 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 Sher
wood 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, turn-

THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD. 239

ing his horse's head, rode back towards London, whilst 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, Robin Hood and
nor will we stop this night till we reach Saint Albans. Hereupon, his men leave the
taking out his purse, he paid the landlord his score, and so they
left the inn.

When they had come to the high-road 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 high-roads, 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 Rgbin Hood and
to thy wits." Then Robin kissed the three upon the cheeks, and his merry men

...... , , , part company.

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 The King's men
others entering the room where the yeomen had been. But they 2J1?JS j!S
found that their birds had flown again, and that the King had not.
been baulked a second time.

" Methought that they were naughty fellows," said the host, when he heard
who 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 high-road 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 Barnet, they travelled toward the eastward, without stop- Little John,

i 1-1 11 ti *.•! ti Will Scarlet.

ping, as long as their legs could carry them, until they came to and Allan j
Chelmsford, in Essex. Thence they turned northward, and came Dale get safely

' J . back to Sher-

through Cambridge and Lincolnshire, to the good town of Gains- wood.
borough. 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

240 THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD.

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 west-
Kobin Hood ward, and so came past Aylesbury, to fair Woodstock, in Oxford-

to the snjre> Thence he turned his footsteps northward, travelling for

•westward, out is

not so lucky at a great distance by way of Warwick Town, till he came to Dud-
^Aewoodlands ley, in Staffordshire. Seven days it took him to journey thus far,
again. an(} 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
The Bishop of band came to the town, and with them came the Bishop of Here-

^os'ainf Albans, ford- When he heard that R°bin H°°cl had OI1Ce mOrG sliPPed

lut not finding out of the trap, he stayed not a minute, but, gathering his bands
there, set°s° forth together, he pushed forward to the northward with speed, leav-
straightway for > orders for an fa troops that came to Saint Albans to follow

JVottingliam-

shire. 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 high
way and byway to the eastward and the southward and the westward of Sher
wood. The Sheriff of Nottingham called forth all his men likewise, and joined
The Sheriff of with the Bishop, for he saw that this was the best chance that
Nottingham ^a(j ever befallen of paying back his score in full to Robin

jotneth with the i i i •

Bishop of Here- Hood. Will Scarlet and Little John and Allan a Dale had just
{0udt/ieroads°CkS missed the King's men to the eastward, for the very next day
about Sherwood. after they had passed the line and entered Sherwood the roads
through which they had travelled 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

THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD. 243

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 Robin hath a
to his feet, and, at one bound, crossed the stream and the road- narrow miss of

11 1111 • 1-1 -I 11- losing his life.

side, and plunged headlong into the thicket, without looking
around, for he knew right well that that which had hissed so venomously be
side 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 Robin Hood es-
soon left them far behind, coming out, at last, upon another road ^"/n'tAe"'^*
about eight hundred paces distant from the one he had left. Here thicket.
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 ^0^n ff00j
band of the King's men seated in the shade along the roadside in findeth the road

111 <-r--i i i • ift front of him

the valley beneath. Then he paused not a moment, but, seeing blocked by the

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, cours
ing over the ground like a greyhound. He never slackened his pace, but ran

244 THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD.

along, mile after mile, till he had come nigh to Mackworth, over beyond
Robin Hood es- the Derwent River, nigh to Derby Town. Here, seeing that
capes present ^6 was out of present danger, he slackened in his running, and
at last sat him down beneath a hedge where the grass was
Rnfatlaeh!dgee.' 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 travelled 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
Robin Hood call- had Sotten ni&h enough> " whither away so merrily this bright

eth upon Quince, (Jay ? "

&£*£ °f Hearing himself so called upon, the Cobbler stopped, and, see-
tarry! ing a we]l-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 ther

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

Robin telleth . , „

Quince a strange any worth I ha 'seen this blessed day.

thing' At these words the Cobbler's eyes opened big and wide, and his

mouth grew round with wonder, like a knot-hole in a board fence. " Alack-a;
dav," 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 ownself."

THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD. 245

" Ay, truly," quoth Robin, " they are as thick here as fresh herring in Can-
nock 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 slip
ping off his doublet, and the Cobbler, seeing him so in earnest, Robin Hood and
began peeling off his clothes also, for Robin Hood's garb tickled $£%'££*'
his eye. So each put on the other fellow's clothes, and Robin change clothes.
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 Robin Hood and
cackles aloud for that good fat capon." So both sat down and Quince feast to-
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, moisten- Quince singetk
ing his throat with a swallow of beer, he began to sing thus : — a merry SOH8-

246 THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD.

" 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
The Kings men burst upon them where they sat, and seized roughly upon the
SQuin/e°the Cob- nonest: craftsman, hauling him to his feet, and nearly plucking
bier. 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 four
score 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 forth
with." 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 in
deed 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-treat
ment hath curdled the wits of this poor lad and turned them all sour ! I, my
self, am Quince, the Cobbler of Derby Town."

" Is it so ? " said Quince. " Then, indeed, I am somebody else, and can be

THE CHASE OF ROB7N HOOD. 247

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

.,, . -ii • • The Kings men

warrant we will bring his wits back to him again when we get take Quince
him safe before our good Bishop at Tutbury Town." Thereupon 'S^K^Srf
they tied the Cobbler's hands behind him, and led him off with a Hereford at

. , . , rr , , - , . Jutbury Town.

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 off. His journey
from London had been hard and long, and in a se'ennight he had travelled
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
travelling 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 Robin Hoo^
him to a room, although the sun was only then just sinking in the being aweary
western sky. There were but three bedrooms in the place, and mn for* the
to the meanest of these the landlord showed Robin Hood, but night-
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 Four biirghers of
not care to be caught in such a thunder-storm as this that was ^wngcometo
coming upon them. Leaving their nags to the stableman, they the inn also.
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

248 THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD.

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
The storm bring- banging the doors and shutters, smelling of the coming rain, and
'EmmeTto °(he a^ wrapped in a cloud of dust and leaves. As though the wind
inn likewise. had brought a guest along with it, the door opened of a sudden
and in came a friar of F^mmet 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 centre of the platter, not large
enow to keep the life in a starving mouse.

In the mean time 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 roll
ing great casks of water across rough ground overhead. The women-folks
screamed, and the merry wags in the tap room 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

likes not to sleep fellow as you could find in all England, nevertheless there was

he notnin» ^or ^> and he must sleep there or nowhere ; so, taking up
thinkethisa 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 whom 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.

THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD. 249

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 R0un Hood is
he gaped and how he stared, for there beside him lay one all amazed at his
shaven and shorn, so that he knew it must be a fellow in holy
orders. He pinched himself sharply, but, finding he was awake, sat up in bed,
whilst 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 bor
rowed my bed so freely I '11 e'en borrow thy clothes in return." Robin Hood bor-
So saying, he straightway donned the holy man's garb, but kindly ^|^ ^fhim of
left the cobbler's clothes in the place of it. Then he went forth Emmet.
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 friar 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 pres
ently 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, The brother of
he was fain either to don the cobbler's clothes or travel the road Emmet dons the
in nakedness. So he put on the clothes, and, still raging and a*j goetk kis
swearing vengeance against all the cobblers in Derbyshire, he set w"y-
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. The brother of

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 the King's men.
none other than Robin Hood.

Meanwhile merry Robin rode along contentedly, passing safely by two bands

250 THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD.

of the King's men, until his heart began to dance within him because of the
nearness of Sherwood ; so he travelled ever on to the eastward, till, of a sud
den, 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
Robin Hood Lea," cried he, "for rather than any other man in England would

nRichahrdSiof the l see th7 Sood face this day ! " Then he told Sir Richard all the
Lea and telieth happenings that had befallen him, and that now at last he felt
tures. himself safe, being so nigh to Sherwood again. But when Robin

had done, Sir Richard shook his head sadly. " Thou art in greater danger
Sir Richard now, Robin, than thou hast yet been," said he, "for before thee
shoiveth Robin jje bands of the Sheriff's men blocking every road and letting

that he is in . ' . . J

greater danger none pass through the lines without examining them closely. I
advis^him™ myself know this, having passed them but now. Before thee lie
what to do. the Sheriff's 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 Sheriff's
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
Robin Hood side, and then, hanging for a moment, dropped lightly upon the
thrawetJi himself p-rass within. All the ladies-in-waiting shrieked at the sudden-

upon Queen c.1- c>

eanor's mercy. ness of his coming, but the man ran to the Queen and kneeled
at her feet, and she saw it was Robin Hood.

THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD. 251

" 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 majes
ty's kindness and gentleness of heart, and so I lay my life freely in your gra
cious 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, fel
low, 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 sir Robert Lee
noble Queen, for, but for her persuasion and arguments, thou reprovcth Robin
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 dark
ness 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 tak
ing Robin with him, departed northward upon his way to Sherwood. Now
and then they passed bands of the King's men coming back Robin Hoodget.
again to London, but none of those bands stopped them, and so, teth back safe to

Shenvood.

at last, they reached the sweet, leafy woodlands.

Thus end the merry adventures which befell Robin Hood when he went to

252

THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD.

the famous shooting-match at London Town. And now we will hear of how
the Bishop of Hereford and the Sheriff of Nottingham sought once more to
take him in a different way. Likewise we will hear how merry King Richard
of the Lion's Heart visited Robin Hood in the depths of Sherwood Forest.

RobinHood

Slayefh
Guy

RoBlN-and-LiTTLE-JoHN- go.

5 e arch . of- Adventure :

... J

f-X

PART EIGHTH.

which it is fold how Robin Hood met Guy of Gisbourne in Sher
wood Forest, and of the famous fight betwixt them. Also, how Little
John fell into the Sheriff's hands through saving the life of three
men. Likewise, it is told how good King Richard of the Lions
Heart came to Nottinghamshire and visited Robin Hood in Sher
wood Forest.

' I. "• '•"'. f:

Robin Hood and Guy of Gisbourne.

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 hon
esty), he took good care not to travel so far from Sher
wood that he could not reach it again both easily and
quickly.
Great changes had fallen in this time ; for King Henry had died and King

256 ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBOURNE.

Richard had come to the crown that fitted him so well through many hard
King Richard trials, and through adventures as stirring as any that ever befell
^onl'o/Eng- Robin Hood- But though great changes came, they did not
land. reach to Sherwood's shades, for there Robin Hood and his men

dwelt 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
Robin Hood and the leaves danced and twinkled as the breeze trembled through
jortk hflk/for- them and the sunlight came flickering down. Quoth Robin Hood,
est. " 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 adven
tures, each one upon his own account ?"

" With all my heart," said Little John. " We have had more than one pleas
ant 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 upper-
Robin Hood and. most in all thy troubles ; but let us see who cometh out best this

MfrJ«j*£% day-" So sayinS> he claPPed his Palm to Little J°hn's and each
seek adventure, 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

ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBOURNE.

257

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 Robin Hood
and stood quite still, looking at the other a long time before he co?uth uf°"a

1 strange-looking

came forward. And the stranger, I wot, was well worth looking »tan.
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 some one 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, rest
less, 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. Has 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, squat
ting down upon the grass in front of the other ; " moreover, I tell thee thy
speech is witty and gameson 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
17

258 ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBOURNE.

or it may be that ; but methinks it is more meet for thee to tell me thine, see
ing 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
Guy of Gis- the bones of the Daemon Odin," said he, " thou art the boldest
bourne telleth Ms spoken man that ever I have seen in all my life. I know not why

story to Robin • r i ^

Hood. 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 Not
tingham 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 wide 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 happen
ing 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 may
hap 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

ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBOURNE. 259

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 long bow. 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 speak
ing 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, Robin Hood sfff
and going to a hazel thicket not far off, he cut a wand about twice «/ a mark for
the thickness of a man's thumb. From this he peeled the bark, bourne to shoot
and, sharpening the point, stuck it up in the ground in front of a at'
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 G /• G-s_
a good palm's breadth. Robin laughed and laughed. " I see bourne misseth
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

260 ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBOURNE.

upon the ground. " There, thou bloody villain ! " cried he, fiercely, " let that
Robin Hood out- snow thee how little thou knowest of manly sports. And now
shoots Guy of look thy last upon the daylight, for the good earth hath been be
fouled 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
Robin Hood knew that either he or the other must die, and that no mercy

fiGihsbeourneUwit°h WES tO be had in this battle" UP and d°wn they Alight, till all

his sword. 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,
Rokin Hood sJa R°bin's sword passed through and through his body. Round he
eth Guy of Gis- 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 King's 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 lay waste a fair country. Since the Sheriff of Nottingham hath

ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBOURNE. 261

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, strap- Robin Hood put-
ping the other's sword and dagger around his body and carrying te^fs°"u^Hl/s °^
his own in his hand, together with the two bows of yew, he drew clothes.
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 Notting
ham 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 do
ings had spread far and near.

And now let us see what befell Little John while these things were hap
pening.

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 high-road 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 some one in sorrow. He listened, and ,..,, ~,

Little John

found that it came from the cottage ; so, turning his footsteps heareth some one
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 comfort
ing words to her, bidding her cheer up and tell him her troubles, for that may
hap 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 Netting- The widmu iel^
hamshire, but that they were now taken from her, and were like etk Little John
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

262 ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBOURNE.

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 in
deed 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 dis
guise, 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
Little John dis- of her good husband, who had died only two years before. These

n she brought to Little John, who, doffing his garb of Lincoln

herd 's clothes. 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 bor
ders 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 Sher
iff 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
The Sheriff of kitchen, and great rapping and tapping of wine kegs and beer
Nottingham barrels was goinsr on in the cellar. The Sheriff sat within, feast-

abideth merrily , ~ .,

at the King's ing merrily of the best the place afforded, and the Sheriffs 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
The -widow's tightly behind their backs, and a cord from neck to neck fastened
three sons are them all together. So they were marched to the room where the

brought before .... • ««.**•'«• i 11

the sheriff of Sheriff sat at meat, and stood trembling before him as he scowled

Nottingham.

ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBOURNE. 263

" 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
altogether 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 pedlers into
the town."

In the mean time, whilst 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, The Sheri/
father, I have a few words to say to thee." So Little John, for it ffj^ftvA
was none other than he, came forward, and the Sheriff looked the curly hair.
upon him thinking that there was something strangely familiar in the face be
fore 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."

264 ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBOURNE.

" 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
Little John sucn a thing before ; but an a sixpence is to be earned so easily
promises to hang \ might as well ha' it as anybody. But, your worship, are these

the widow 's three f .

sons for six- 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 whis
pered softly into his ear, " Stand still, brother, when thou feelest thy bonds cut,
but when thou seest me throw my woollen wig and beard from my head and
Little John face, cast the noose from thy neck and run for the woodlands."
loosens the bonds Then he j j t t^ cord that bound the youth's hands ; who,

that oina the J J *

three youths, 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."
The Sheriff^- " With all my heart," said the Sheriff, " only, as I said before,

%££&£ ™ke thou haste in thy doings-"

his bow. 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

ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBOURNE. 265

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 Little john and
men gazed after him all bewildered with the sudden doing. But the widow's three
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 stir
rups, 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 sheria-
the woodlands, then leaning forward he struck a mighty blow, striketh down
Little John ducked and the Sheriff's sword turned in his hand, the flat of his
but the flat of the blade struck the other upon the head and sword-
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 foun
tain, 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

266 ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GJSBOURNE.

its belly. So they took him back to the King's Head Inn, laughing and rejoic
ing as they went along. But in the mean time 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 to
morrow 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 ringers ; yet, should his master escape
that foul Guv of Gisbourne, there is no knowing what he may do,

The Sheriff of . ' . .. , , , , • -r, i •

Nottingham for he is the cunnmgest knave m all the world, — this same Robin
^Sn Hood will Hood. Belike I had better not wait until to-morrow to hang the
rescue Little 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
so boldly 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
The Sheriff and ta^» anc* so> one leading the horse whereon he sat and the others
his men set forth riding around him, they, went forward to that tree from the
^hn without branches of which they had thought to hang the poachers. On
delay- 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 wor
ship," cried he, " is not yon fellow coming along toward us that
same Guy of Gisbourne whom thou didst send into the forest to

the outlaw, 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 in his hand.

" 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

ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBOURNE. 267

Guy of Gisbourne, " thou raayst 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 Gis
bourne, 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 cow
ard 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 The Sheriff giv-
ill to let this fellow pass from my hands, but as I have promised, J^^JJ^ ^°hn
thou shalt have him." Hoofs hands.

" I thank thee right heartily for thy gift," cried Robin. " Take the rogue
down from the horse, men, and lean him against yonder tree, whilst 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.

Whilst 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

268 ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBOURNE.

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 !
Robin Hood sets Get them quickly!" So saying, he cut the bonds, and Little
Little John free. 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
The Sheriff es- cou^ not outstrip a clothyard arrow. Little John twanged his
capeth not all 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 afterwards 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 scouring away in the distance, hidden within a cloud of dust
like a little thunder-storm.

The widow's Then they all went back into the forest once more, where they

tJR0lein°HoJod's 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

ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBOURNE. 269

mother of their escape, they would come that night to the greenwood tree,
and thenceforth become men of the band.

Thus end the bravest adventures that ever befell Robin Hood and Little
John. So next we shall hear how stout King Richard of the Lion's Heart vis
ited Robin in Sherwood Forest.

II.

King Richard
of the Lion's
Heart maketh a
royal progress
through merry
England.

Town
make ready for
the Kings com
ing.

King Richard cometh to Sherwood Forest.

N'OT more than two months had passed and gone since these stirring
adventures that have just been told of befell Robin Hood and Little
John, when all Nottinghamshire was in a mighty stir and tumult, for King
Richard of the Lion's Heart was making a royal progress through merry Eng
land, and every one expected him to come to Nottingham Town
in his journeying. Messengers went riding back and forth be
tween 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,
The folk of Not- a raPPJng °^ 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 drap
ing these arches with silken banners and streamers of many col
ors. 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 her
ring in a box, so that the Sheriff's 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
A certain fat these men. " Wouldst thou dig thine elbows into me, sirrah ?
friar berates one By 'r Lady of the Fountain, an thou dost not treat me with more
men for pushing 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 Lin
coln green that were scattered through the crowd thereabouts ; but one that

KING RICHARD COMETH TO SHERWOOD FOREST. 271

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 earnest 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 forwards.
Over their heads fluttered a cloud of snow-white feathers, and The -ht and
each herald bore in his hand a long silver trumpet, which he blew twenty heralds

. . come a riding.

musically, rrom each trumpet hung a heavy banner ot 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 Fivescore
armed, saving that their heads were uncovered. In their hands tAe$r*LmjU-
they bore tall lances, from the tops of which fluttered pennons of low the Braids.
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 Not
tingham 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 midcountry, in robes of silk and The barons and
cloth of gold, with golden chains about their necks and jewels at the nobles of the

0 f midcountry come

their girdles. Behind these again came a great array of men-at- riding behind the
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 Not
tingham in his robes of office. The other, who was a head taller The Sjierijp and
than the Sheriff, was clad in a rich but simple garb, with a broad, the King come

riding in the

heavy chain about his neck. His hair and beard were like midst of many
threads of gold, and his eyes were as blue as the summer sky. men-at-arms-
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

272 KING RICHARD COMETH TO SHERWOOD FOREST.

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 be
hind.

" 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,
The sheriff seeth and he caught at the pommel of his saddle to keep himself from
fi^bandam^ falling ; for he also saw the fellow that so shouted, and knew him
the crowd. 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 old, sat King
Richard with the Sheriff of Nottingham beside him.

Quoth the King to the Sheriff, laughing as he spoke, " I have heard much
The Kinrasketh sP°ken concerning the doings of certain fellows hereabouts, one
the Sheriff about Robin Hood and his band, who are outlaws and abide in Sher
wood 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 fel
lows, saving that they are the boldest law-breakers in all the land."

Then up spake young Sir Henry of the Lea, a great favorite with the King,

KING RICHARD COMETH TO SHERWOOD FOREST. 273

under whom he had fought in Palestine. " May it please your majesty," said
he, " when I was away in Palestine I heard of ttimes 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 sir Henry of the
he had borrowed from the Bishop of Hereford. Again and again Lea telieth his
the King and those present roared with laughter, whilst 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 whilst
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
dwelt 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 Bingham, 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 Sir Hubert Oj-
majesty hang a purse of one hundred pounds beneath your gown ; Bingham telieth.

i .r. t"e K*n§ ho™ "e

then let us undertake to ride from here to Mansfield Town to- may meet Robin
morrow, and, without I am much mistaken, we will both meet Hood'
with Robin Hood and dine with him before the day be passed."

" I like thy plan, Sir Hubert," quoth the King merrily, " and to-morrow 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 fore-

274 KING RICHARD COMETH TO SHERWOOD FOREST.

head 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. Neverthe
less " —

" Then," quoth the King, breaking in on the Sheriff's 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

Z/JKhn majesty having hung a purse with a hundred golden pounds in it

set forth for beneath his robes, they all went forth and mounted the mules that

Sherwood for- T^. , , ,

est to meet Robin had been brought to the door for them. Then the King bade the
Hood' Sheriff be silent as to their doings, and so they set forth upon

their way.

Onward they travelled, laughing and jesting, until they passed through the
open country ; between bare harvest fields whence the harvest had been gath
ered 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 travelled
in the forest for several miles without meeting any one 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."
3 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
stops tiling merry blue eyes. " Truly, holy brother," said he, laying his hand
^N^Tead upon the King's bridle rein, " it were an unchristian thing to not
Abbey. give fitting answer to so fair a bargain. We keep an inn here

abouts, 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

KING RICHARD COMETH TO SHERWOOD FOREST. 275

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 good wife 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 ? up kujjtnc*
Art thou the King of England, to talk so to me ? Here, Will, Robin Hood-
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 Robin Hood
woodlands, they journeyed onward until they came to the open bringeth the

J J seven mockfri-

glade and the greenwood tree. ars to thegreen-

Little John, with threescore yeomen at his heels, had also gone woodtree-
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

2;6 KING RICHARD COMETH TO SHERWOOD FOREST.

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 body guard."

" 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 fop him. Ye churchmen cannot rightly under
stand 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
Robin Hood fellow," said he, " thou hast drunk to thine own confusion."
drinketktotht "Never a whit," quoth merry Robin, "for I tell thee that we
Kings health. Q£ Sherwood are more loyal to our lord the King than those of
thine order. We would give up our very lives for his benefiting, whilst 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

KING RICHARD COMETH TO SHERWOOD FOREST. 277

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 entertain
ment ? 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, ' 'T is 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 travelling 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 some
what nettled at Robin's cutting his talk so short.

In the mean time 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 —

The band shoot

thine ears from a warming this day." Next Midge, the Miller, before merry
shot, and he, also, lodged his arrows in the garland. Then fol
lowed 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 Tinker gets
the greater swing to his arm, he struck with might and main. ^buff^-
" 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

2/8 KING RICHARD COMETH TO SHERWOOD FOREST.

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 shaft 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
Robin Hood fail- third time Robin shot ; but, alas for him ! the arrow was ill-feath-
eth of his mark. QJ-Q^ an^f wavering to one side, it smote an inch outside the gar
land.

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 en
gage 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 pen
ance ; therefore I will yield myself to this holy friar, who seem-

Rolnn Hood •> J • i r

yieideth himself eth to be one in authority, and will take my punishment irom
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 away every farthing thou hast for thy boastful
speech."

crrv-Kooin-

ham- me-

\vorft. • of-

Bargain

KING RICHARD COMETH TO SHERWOOD FOREST. 281

" 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 The Ki gjv_
headlong upon the grass, for the stroke would have felled a stone 'th Robin Hood
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 finger-tips
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 hear
ing 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 Little John com-
and threescore men, with Sir Richard of the Lea in -the midst. ^ to the green-

wood tree wttn

Across the glade they came running, and, as they came, Sir Rich- Sir Richard of
ard shouted to Robin : " Make haste, dear friend, gather thy band warns Robin
together and come with me! King Richard left Nottingham Hood of danger.
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 ; neverthe
less, 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 high-road 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 cost 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

282 KING RICHARD COMETH TO SHERWOOD FOREST.

leaped from off his horse's back and flung himself upon his knees before the
Sir Richard of otner- At this, the King, seeing that Sir Richard knew him,
the Lea knoweth 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 be
tween 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 Pales
tine ; 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
The Kin for- ^PSi "Marry, Sir Richard," quoth the King, "thou art a bold-
gives Sir Rich- spoken knight, and thy freedom of speech weigheth not heavily
"because of hi? against thee with me. This young son of thine taketh after his
stout son. sire b0th 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 such 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,

KING RICHARD COMETH TO SHERWOOD FOREST. 283

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 dons Robin Hood
band free pardon. But, in sooth, I cannot let you roam the forest a«d all his band.
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 Lon
don 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, for I would fain see how ye live here in
the leafy woodlands."

So Robin bade his men make ready a grand feast ; and straightway great
fires were kindled and burned brightly, at which fires savory things roasted
sweetly. While this was going forward, the King bade Robin Hood call Allan
a Dale for he would hear him sing. So word was passed for Allan, and pres
ently 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 Allan a Dale

v-1 i_ ,1 sin?eth before

while he sang thus : — King Richard.

" 'O/i where hast 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 ? '
1 Oh, I saw a boat come drifting nigh,
Where the quivering rushes hiss and sis'/I,

KING RICHARD COMETH TO SHERWOOD FOREST.

And the water soughs as it gurgles fry,
And the' shrill wind sighs a straining?

" ' What sailed in the boat, my (laughter ?
What sailed in the boat this day,

Daughter, my daughter ? '
1 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,
J5ut 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;
feasts in the for- so Robin Hood brought King Richard and those with him to
esf' where it lay all spread out on fair white linen cloths which lay

KING RICHARD COMETH TO SHERWOOD FOREST.

285

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 Ki Rifhard
Nottingham Town, Robin Hood and all of his band going with Heth in the forest

. . , . over night.

him. You may guess what a stir there was m 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, whilst all his heart was filled with gall be
cause 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 Robin Hood and
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.

Little John and
Will Scarlet and
Allan a Dale
take leave of the

^ j ~**HUS end the merry adventures of Robin Hood ; for, in spite of
J. his promise, it was many a year ere he saw Sherwood again-
After a year or two at court Little John came back to Notting
hamshire, where he lived in an orderly way, though within sight of Sher
wood, and where he achieved great fame as the champion of all England
with the quarterstajf. Will Scarlet after a time came back to his own
home, whence he had been driven by his unlucky killing of his fathers
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 Sher
wood so quickly, for thus it was : —

Robin, through his great fame as an archer, became a favorite with
the King, so that he speedily arose in rank to be the chief of all the yeo
men. At last the King, seeing how faithful and how loyal he was, cre
ated 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 Sher
wood 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.

Thus all things have an end, but not such a lucky ending as befell
Robin Hood and his band of stout yeomen in famous Sherwood Forest.

ammmmy*):^^^

5°- Y* GBJEAT-REAPER- reapeth'

FLOWERS : -

EPILOGUE.

Telling how Robin Ho&l came back again to Sherwood Forest, and
how Sir William Dale was sent against him to take him. Likewise
it is told how Robin Hood died by the treachery of his cousin, the
Prioress of the Nunnery of Kirklees.

ND 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 pleas
ures that are dead and gone can never be set upon their
feet to walk again. I will not dwell upon the matter
over long, 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 Hunt
ingdon, 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 be
came a lion-hearted king, as you yourself, no doubt, know ; so, after a time,
the Earl of Huntingdon — or Robin Hood, as we will still call him as of old
— finding nothing for his doing abroad, came back to merry England again.
19

290 EPILOGUE.

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 spring-time 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 Not
tingham 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.

" Look, Allan ! " cried Robin. " Dost thou not see the scar on yonder
beechen tree ? That was made when thine arrow stripped away a piece of the
bark the day thy shaft missed the noble hart so sadly. That was the same day
that we were caught by the storm, and had to lodge over night at the old farm
er's house — he who had the three buxom daughters."

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 be
fore. 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 soli
tude ; 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 this bugle once more.
He raised it to his lips, he blew a blast. " Tirila, lirila," the sweet, clear

EPILOGUE. 291

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 briars 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 mo
ment, 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.

Whilst 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 Wil-

292 EPILOGUE.

liam 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, like 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 skilful 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 Pri
oress 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

EPILOGUE. 293

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, Lit
tle 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 within
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 now-a-days. 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, shriek-

294 EPILOGUE.

ing, 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 say
ing 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 roof-tree 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 swal
lowing 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,

EPILOGUE.

295

with a wide, lingering look, whilst 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, Lit
tle 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 bov.T.

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 cover
ing 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 rap
idly 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.

296

EPILOGUE.

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 thereaf
ter, 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 : —

])rar untirnuati tots laitl ctran
late rofarrt earl of buntintrtun
nca arcfv Drr as ()te cfae creuil
an ptpl iiaullj tin Eobin lutti)
ctck utlatoe act jjt an to men
mi (&ntrlanti niair ci nrrcn.

oilttt 2\ fcal. UefeembrtB 12

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.

••

14 DAY USE

RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED

LOAN DEPT.

This book is due on the last date stamped below, or

on the date to which renewed.
Renewed books are subject to immediate recall.

General Library
University of Californ
Berkeley

•* * -

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA UBRARY

MERlll

•=?

.VI

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