NOT MORE than two months had passed and gone since these stirring
adventures befell Robin Hood and Little John, when all Nottinghamshire
was a mighty stir and tumult, for King Richard of the Lion's Heart was
making a royal progress through merry England, and everyone expected him
to come to Nottingham Town in his journeying. Messengers went riding
back and forth between the Sheriff and the King, until at last the time
was fixed upon when His Majesty was to stop in Nottingham, as the guest
of his worship.
And now came more bustle than ever; a great running hither and thither,
a rapping of hammers and a babble of voices sounded everywhere through
the place, for the folk were building great arches across the streets,
beneath which the King was to pass, and were draping these arches with
silken banners and streamers of many colors. Great hubbub was going on
in the Guild Hall of the town, also, for here a grand banquet was to be
given to the King and the nobles of his train, and the best master
carpenters were busy building a throne where the King and the Sheriff
were to sit at the head of the table, side by side.
It seemed to many of the good folk of the place as if the day that
should bring the King into the town would never come; but all the same
it did come in its own season, and bright shone the sun down into the
stony streets, which were all alive with a restless sea of people. On
either side of the way great crowds of town and country folk stood
packed as close together as dried herring in a box, so that the Sheriffs
men, halberds in hands, could hardly press them back to leave space for
the King's riding.
"Take care whom thou pushest against!" cried a great, burly friar to one
of these men. "Wouldst thou dig thine elbows into me, sirrah? By'r Lady
of the Fountain, an thou dost not treat me with more deference I will
crack thy knave's pate for thee, even though thou be one of the mighty
Sheriff's men."
At this a great shout of laughter arose from a number of tall yeomen in
Lincoln green that were scattered through the crowd thereabouts; but one
that seemed of more authority than the others nudged the holy man with
his elbow. "Peace, Tuck," said he, "didst thou not promise me, ere thou
camest here, that thou wouldst put a check upon thy tongue?"
"Ay, marry," grumbled the other, "but 'a did not think to have a
hard-footed knave trample all over my poor toes as though they were no more
than so many acorns in the forest."
But of a sudden all this bickering ceased, for a clear sound of many
bugle horns came winding down the street. Then all the people craned
their necks and gazed in the direction whence the sound came, and the
crowding and the pushing and the swaying grew greater than ever. And now
a gallant array of men came gleaming into sight, and the cheering of the
people ran down the crowd as the fire runs in dry grass.
Eight and twenty heralds in velvet and cloth of gold came riding
forward. Over their heads fluttered a cloud of snow-white feathers, and
each herald bore in his hand a long silver trumpet, which he blew
musically. From each trumpet hung a heavy banner of velvet and cloth of
gold, with the royal arms of England emblazoned thereon. After these
came riding fivescore noble knights, two by two, all fully armed, saving
that their heads were uncovered. In their hands they bore tall lances,
from the tops of which fluttered pennons of many colors and devices. By
the side of each knight walked a page clad in rich clothes of silk and
velvet, and each page bore in his hands his master's helmet, from which
waved long, floating plumes of feathers. Never had Nottingham seen a
fairer sight than those fivescore noble knights, from whose armor the
sun blazed in dazzling light as they came riding on their great war
horses, with clashing of arms and jingling of chains. Behind the
knights came the barons and the nobles of the mid-country, in robes of
silk and cloth of gold, with golden chains about their necks and jewels
at their girdles. Behind these again came a great array of men-at-arms,
with spears and halberds in their hands, and, in the midst of these, two
riders side by side. One of the horsemen was the Sheriff of Nottingham
in his robes of office. The other, who was a head taller than the
Sheriff, was clad in a rich but simple garb, with a broad, heavy chain
about his neck. His hair and beard were like threads of gold, and his
eyes were as blue as the summer sky. As he rode along he bowed to the
right hand and the left, and a mighty roar of voices followed him as he
passed; for this was King Richard.
Then, above all the tumult and the shouting a great voice was heard
roaring, "Heaven, its saints bless thee, our gracious King Richard! and
likewise Our Lady of the Fountain, bless thee!" Then King Richard,
looking toward the spot whence the sound came, saw a tall, burly,
strapping priest standing in front of all the crowd with his legs wide
apart as he backed against those behind.
"By my soul, Sheriff," said the King, laughing, "ye have the tallest
priests in Nottinghamshire that e'er I saw in all my life. If Heaven
never answered prayers because of deafness, methinks I would
nevertheless have blessings bestowed upon me, for that man yonder would
make the great stone image of Saint Peter rub its ears and hearken unto
him. I would that I had an army of such as he."
To this the Sheriff answered never a word, but all the blood left his
cheeks, and he caught at the pommel of his saddle to keep himself from
falling; for he also saw the fellow that so shouted, and knew him to be
Friar Tuck; and, moreover, behind Friar Tuck he saw the faces of Robin
Hood and Little John and Will Scarlet and Will Stutely and Allan a Dale
and others of the band.
"How now," said the King hastily, "art thou ill, Sheriff, that thou
growest so white?"
"Nay, Your Majesty," said the Sheriff, "it was nought but a sudden pain
that will soon pass by." Thus he spake, for he was ashamed that the
King should know that Robin Hood feared him so little that he thus dared
to come within the very gates of Nottingham Town.
Thus rode the King into Nottingham Town on that bright afternoon in the
early fall season; and none rejoiced more than Robin Hood and his merry
men to see him come so royally unto his own.
Eventide had come; the great feast in the Guild Hall at Nottingham Town
was done, and the wine passed freely. A thousand waxen lights gleamed
along the board, at which sat lord and noble and knight and squire in
goodly array. At the head of the table, upon a throne all hung with
cloth of gold, sat King Richard with the Sheriff of Nottingham beside
him.
Quoth the King to the Sheriff, laughing as he spoke, "I have heard much
spoken concerning the doings of certain fellows hereabouts, one Robin
Hood and his band, who are outlaws and abide in Sherwood Forest. Canst
thou not tell me somewhat of them, Sir Sheriff? For I hear that thou
hast had dealings with them more than once."
At these words the Sheriff of Nottingham looked down gloomily, and the
Bishop of Hereford, who was present, gnawed his nether lip. Quoth the
Sheriff, "I can tell Your Majesty but little concerning the doings of
those naughty fellows, saving that they are the boldest lawbreakers in
all the land."
Then up spake young Sir Henry of the Lea, a great favorite with the
King, under whom he had fought in Palestine. "May it please Your
Majesty," said he, "when I was away in Palestine I heard ofttimes from
my father, and in most cases I heard of this very fellow, Robin Hood.
If Your Majesty would like I will tell you a certain adventure of this
outlaw."
Then the King laughingly bade him tell his tale, whereupon he told how
Robin Hood had aided Sir Richard of the Lea with money that he had
borrowed from the Bishop of Hereford. Again and again the King and
those present roared with laughter, while the poor Bishop waxed cherry
red in the face with vexation, for the matter was a sore thing with him.
When Sir Henry of the Lea was done, others of those present, seeing how
the King enjoyed this merry tale, told other tales concerning Robin and
his merry men.
"By the hilt of my sword," said stout King Richard, "this is as bold and
merry a knave as ever I heard tell of. Marry, I must take this matter
in hand and do what thou couldst not do, Sheriff, to wit, clear the
forest of him and his band."
That night the King sat in the place that was set apart for his lodging
while in Nottingham Town. With him were young Sir Henry of the Lea and
two other knights and three barons of Nottinghamshire; but the King's
mind still dwelled upon Robin Hood. "Now," quoth he, "I would freely
give a hundred pounds to meet this roguish fellow, Robin Hood, and to
see somewhat of his doings in Sherwood Forest."
Then up spake Sir Hubert of Gingham, laughing: "If Your Majesty hath
such a desire upon you it is not so hard to satisfy. If Your Majesty is
willing to lose one hundred pounds, I will engage to cause you not only
to meet this fellow, but to feast with him in Sherwood."
"Marry, Sir Hubert," quoth the King, "this pleaseth me well. But how
wilt thou cause me to meet Robin Hood?"
"Why, thus," said Sir Hubert, "let Your Majesty and us here present put
on the robes of seven of the Order of Black Friars, and let Your Majesty
hang a purse of one hundred pounds beneath your gown; then let us
undertake to ride from here to Mansfield Town tomorrow, and, without I
am much mistaken, we will both meet with Robin Hood and dine with him
before the day be passed."
"I like thy plan, Sir Hubert," quoth the King merrily, "and tomorrow we
will try it and see whether there be virtue in it."
So it happened that when early the next morning the Sheriff came to
where his liege lord was abiding, to pay his duty to him, the King told
him what they had talked of the night before, and what merry adventure
they were set upon undertaking that morning. But when the Sheriff heard
this he smote his forehead with his fist. "Alas!" said he, "what evil
counsel is this that hath been given thee! O my gracious lord and King,
you know not what you do! This villain that you thus go to seek hath no
reverence either for king or king's laws."
"But did I not hear aright when I was told that this Robin Hood hath
shed no blood since he was outlawed, saving only that of that vile Guy
of Gisbourne, for whose death all honest men should thank him?"
"Yea, Your Majesty," said the Sheriff, "you have heard aright.
Nevertheless--"
"Then," quoth the King, breaking in on the Sheriffs speech, "what have I
to fear in meeting him, having done him no harm? Truly, there is no
danger in this. But mayhap thou wilt go with us, Sir Sheriff."
"Nay," quoth the Sheriff hastily, "Heaven forbid!"
But now seven habits such as Black Friars wear were brought, and the
King and those about him having clad themselves therein, and His Majesty
having hung a purse with a hundred golden pounds in it beneath his
robes, they all went forth and mounted the mules that had been brought
to the door for them. Then the King bade the Sheriff be silent as to
their doings, and so they set forth upon their way. Onward they
traveled, laughing and jesting, until they passed through the open
country; between bare harvest fields whence the harvest had been
gathered home; through scattered glades that began to thicken as they
went farther along, till they came within the heavy shade of the forest
itself. They traveled in the forest for several miles without meeting
anyone such as they sought, until they had come to that part of the road
that lay nearest to Newstead Abbey.
"By the holy Saint Martin," quoth the King, "I would that I had a better
head for remembering things of great need. Here have we come away and
brought never so much as a drop of anything to drink with us. Now I
would give half a hundred pounds for somewhat to quench my thirst
withal."
No sooner had the King so spoken, than out from the covert at the
roadside stepped a tall fellow with yellow beard and hair and a pair of
merry blue eyes. "Truly, holy brother," said he, laying his hand upon
the King's bridle rein, "it were an unchristian thing to not give
fitting answer to so fair a bargain. We keep an inn hereabouts, and for
fifty pounds we will not only give thee a good draught of wine, but will
give thee as noble a feast as ever thou didst tickle thy gullet withal."
So saying, he put his fingers to his lips and blew a shrill whistle.
Then straightway the bushes and branches on either side of the road
swayed and crackled, and threescore broad-shouldered yeomen in Lincoln
green burst out of the covert.
"How now, fellow," quoth the King, "who art thou, thou naughty rogue?
Hast thou no regard for such holy men as we are?"
"Not a whit," quoth merry Robin Hood, for the fellow was he, "for in
sooth all the holiness belonging to rich friars, such as ye are, one
could drop into a thimble and the goodwife would never feel it with the
tip of her finger. As for my name, it is Robin Hood, and thou mayst have
heard it before."
"Now out upon thee!" quoth King Richard. "Thou art a bold and naughty
fellow and a lawless one withal, as I have often heard tell. Now,
prythee, let me, and these brethren of mine, travel forward in peace and
quietness."
"It may not be," said Robin, "for it would look but ill of us to let
such holy men travel onward with empty stomachs. But I doubt not that
thou hast a fat purse to pay thy score at our inn since thou offerest
freely so much for a poor draught of wine. Show me thy purse, reverend
brother, or I may perchance have to strip thy robes from thee to search
for it myself."
"Nay, use no force," said the King sternly. "Here is my purse, but lay
not thy lawless hands upon our person."
"Hut, tut," quoth merry Robin, "what proud words are these? Art thou the
King of England, to talk so to me? Here, Will, take this purse and see
what there is within."
Will Scarlet took the purse and counted out the money. Then Robin bade
him keep fifty pounds for themselves, and put fifty back into the purse.
This he handed to the King. "Here, brother," quoth he, "take this half
of thy money, and thank Saint Martin, on whom thou didst call before,
that thou hast fallen into the hands of such gentle rogues that they
will not strip thee bare, as they might do. But wilt thou not put back
thy cowl? For I would fain see thy face."
"Nay," said the King, drawing back, "I may not put back my cowl, for we
seven have vowed that we will not show our faces for four and twenty
hours."
"Then keep them covered in peace," said Robin, "and far be it from me to
make you break your vows."
So he called seven of his yeomen and bade them each one take a mule by
the bridle; then, turning their faces toward the depths of the
woodlands, they journeyed onward until they came to the open glade and
the greenwood tree.
Little John, with threescore yeomen at his heels, had also gone forth
that morning to wait along the roads and bring a rich guest to Sherwood
glade, if such might be his luck, for many with fat purses must travel
the roads at this time, when such great doings were going on in
Nottinghamshire, but though Little John and so many others were gone,
Friar Tuck and twoscore or more stout yeomen were seated or lying around
beneath the great tree, and when Robin and the others came they leaped
to their feet to meet him.
"By my soul," quoth merry King Richard, when he had gotten down from his
mule and stood looking about him, "thou hast in very truth a fine lot of
young men about thee, Robin. Methinks King Richard himself would be
glad of such a bodyguard."
"These are not all of my fellows," said Robin proudly, "for threescore
more of them are away on business with my good right-hand man, Little
John. But, as for King Richard, I tell thee, brother, there is not a
man of us all but would pour out our blood like water for him. Ye
churchmen cannot rightly understand our King; but we yeomen love him
right loyally for the sake of his brave doings which are so like our
own."
But now Friar Tuck came bustling up. "Gi' ye good den, brothers," said
he. "I am right glad to welcome some of my cloth in this naughty place.
Truly, methinks these rogues of outlaws would stand but an ill chance
were it not for the prayers of Holy Tuck, who laboreth so hard for their
well-being." Here he winked one eye slyly and stuck his tongue into his
cheek.
"Who art thou, mad priest?" said the King in a serious voice, albeit he
smiled beneath his cowl.
At this Friar Tuck looked all around with a slow gaze. "Look you now,"
quoth he, "never let me hear you say again that I am no patient man.
Here is a knave of a friar calleth me a mad priest, and yet I smite him
not. My name is Friar Tuck, fellow--the holy Friar Tuck."
"There, Tuck," said Robin, "thou hast said enow. Prythee, cease thy
talk and bring some wine. These reverend men are athirst, and sin' they
have paid so richly for their score they must e'en have the best."
Friar Tuck bridled at being so checked in his speech, nevertheless he
went straightway to do Robin's bidding; so presently a great crock was
brought, and wine was poured out for all the guests and for Robin Hood.
Then Robin held his cup aloft. "Stay!" cried he. "Tarry in your
drinking till I give you a pledge. Here is to good King Richard of great
renown, and may all enemies to him be confounded."
Then all drank the King's health, even the King himself. "Methinks, good
fellow," said he, "thou hast drunk to thine own confusion."
"Never a whit," quoth merry Robin, "for I tell thee that we of Sherwood
are more loyal to our lord the King than those of thine order. We would
give up our lives for his benefiting, while ye are content to lie snug
in your abbeys and priories let reign who will."
At this the King laughed. Quoth he, "Perhaps King Richard's welfare is
more to me than thou wottest of, fellow. But enough of that matter. We
have paid well for our fare, so canst thou not show us some merry
entertainment? I have oft heard that ye are wondrous archers; wilt thou
not show us somewhat of your skill?"
"With all my heart," said Robin, "we are always pleased to show our
guests all the sport that is to be seen. As Gaffer Swanthold sayeth,
'Tis a hard heart that will not give a caged starling of the best'; and
caged starlings ye are with us. Ho, lads! Set up a garland at the end
of the glade."
Then, as the yeomen ran to do their master's bidding, Tuck turned to one
of the mock friars. "Hearest thou our master?" quoth he, with a sly
wink. "Whenever he cometh across some poor piece of wit he straightway
layeth it on the shoulders of this Gaffer Swanthold--whoever he may be--
so that the poor goodman goeth traveling about with all the odds and
ends and tags and rags of our master's brain packed on his back." Thus
spake Friar Tuck, but in a low voice so that Robin could not hear him,
for he felt somewhat nettled at Robin's cutting his talk so short.
In the meantime the mark at which they were to shoot was set up at
sixscore paces distance. It was a garland of leaves and flowers two
spans in width, which same was hung upon a stake in front of a broad
tree trunk. "There," quoth Robin, "yon is a fair mark, lads. Each of
you shoot three arrows thereat; and if any fellow misseth by so much as
one arrow, he shall have a buffet of Will Scarlet's fist."
"Hearken to him!" quoth Friar Tuck. "Why, master, thou dost bestow
buffets from thy strapping nephew as though they were love taps from
some bouncing lass. I warrant thou art safe to hit the garland thyself,
or thou wouldst not be so free of his cuffing."
First David of Doncaster shot, and lodged all three of his arrows within
the garland. "Well done, David!" cried Robin, "thou hast saved thine
ears from a warming this day." Next Midge, the Miller, shot, and he,
also, lodged his arrows in the garland. Then followed Wat, the Tinker,
but alas for him! For one of his shafts missed the mark by the breadth
of two fingers.
"Come hither, fellow," said Will Scarlet, in his soft, gentle voice, "I
owe thee somewhat that I would pay forthwith." Then Wat, the Tinker,
came forward and stood in front of Will Scarlet, screwing up his face
and shutting his eyes tightly, as though he already felt his ears
ringing with the buffet. Will Scarlet rolled up his sleeve, and,
standing on tiptoe to give the greater swing to his arm, he struck with
might and main. "WHOOF!" came his palm against the Tinker's head, and
down went stout Wat to the grass, heels over head, as the wooden image
at the fair goes down when the skillful player throws a cudgel at it.
Then, as the Tinker sat up upon the grass, rubbing his ear and winking
and blinking at the bright stars that danced before his eyes, the yeomen
roared with mirth till the forest rang. As for King Richard, he laughed
till the tears ran down his cheeks. Thus the band shot, each in turn,
some getting off scot free, and some winning a buffet that always sent
them to the grass. And now, last of all, Robin took his place, and all
was hushed as he shot. The first shaft he shot split a piece from the
stake on which the garland was hung; the second lodged within an inch of
the other. "By my halidom," said King Richard to himself, "I would give
a thousand pounds for this fellow to be one of my guard!" And now, for
the third time Robin shot; but, alas for him! The arrow was ill-
feathered, and, wavering to one side, it smote an inch outside the
garland.
At this a great roar went up, those of the yeomen who sat upon the grass
rolling over and over and shouting with laughter, for never before had
they seen their master so miss his mark; but Robin flung his bow upon
the ground with vexation. "Now, out upon it!" cried he. "That shaft had
an ill feather to it, for I felt it as it left my fingers. Give me a
clean arrow, and I will engage to split the wand with it."
At these words the yeomen laughed louder than ever. "Nay, good uncle,"
said Will Scarlet in his soft, sweet voice, "thou hast had thy fair
chance and hast missed thine aim out and out. I swear the arrow was as
good as any that hath been loosed this day. Come hither; I owe thee
somewhat, and would fain pay it."
"Go, good master," roared Friar Tuck, "and may my blessing go with thee.
Thou hast bestowed these love taps of Will Scarlet's with great freedom.
It were pity an thou gottest not thine own share."
"It may not be," said merry Robin. "I am king here, and no subject may
raise hand against the king. But even our great King Richard may yield
to the holy Pope without shame, and even take a tap from him by way of
penance; therefore I will yield myself to this holy friar, who seemeth
to be one in authority, and will take my punishment from him." Thus
saying, he turned to the King, "I prythee, brother, wilt thou take my
punishing into thy holy hands?"
"With all my heart," quoth merry King Richard, rising from where he was
sitting. "I owe thee somewhat for having lifted a heavy weight of fifty
pounds from my purse. So make room for him on the green, lads."
"An thou makest me tumble," quoth Robin, "I will freely give thee back
thy fifty pounds; but I tell thee, brother, if thou makest me not feel
grass all along my back, I will take every farthing thou hast for thy
boastful speech."
"So be it," said the King, "I am willing to venture it." Thereupon he
rolled up his sleeve and showed an arm that made the yeomen stare. But
Robin, with his feet wide apart, stood firmly planted, waiting the
other, smiling. Then the King swung back his arm, and, balancing himself
a moment, he delivered a buffet at Robin that fell like a thunderbolt.
Down went Robin headlong upon the grass, for the stroke would have
felled a stone wall. Then how the yeomen shouted with laughter till
their sides ached, for never had they seen such a buffet given in all
their lives. As for Robin, he presently sat up and looked all around
him, as though he had dropped from a cloud and had lit in a place he had
never seen before. After a while, still gazing about him at his laughing
yeomen, he put his fingertips softly to his ear and felt all around it
tenderly. "Will Scarlet," said he, "count this fellow out his fifty
pounds; I want nothing more either of his money or of him. A murrain
seize him and his buffeting! I would that I had taken my dues from
thee, for I verily believe he hath deafened mine ear from ever hearing
again."
Then, while gusts of laughter still broke from the band, Will Scarlet
counted out the fifty pounds, and the King dropped it back into his
purse again. "I give thee thanks, fellow," said he, "and if ever thou
shouldst wish for another box of the ear to match the one thou hast,
come to me and I will fit thee with it for nought."
So spake the merry King; but, even as he ended, there came suddenly the
sound of many voices, and out from the covert burst Little John and
threescore men, with Sir Richard of the Lea in the midst. Across the
glade they came running, and, as they came, Sir Richard shouted to
Robin: "Make haste, dear friend, gather thy band together and come with
me! King Richard left Nottingham Town this very morning, and cometh to
seek thee in the woodlands. I know not how he cometh, for it was but a
rumor of this that reached me; nevertheless, I know that it is the
truth. Therefore hasten with all thy men, and come to Castle Lea, for
there thou mayst lie hidden till thy present danger passeth. Who are
these strangers that thou hast with thee?"
"Why," quoth merry Robin, rising from the grass, "these are certain
gentle guests that came with us from the highroad over by Newstead
Abbey. I know not their names, but I have become right well acquaint
with this lusty rogue's palm this morning. Marry, the pleasure of this
acquaintance hath dost me a deaf ear and fifty pounds to boot!"
Sir Richard looked keenly at the tall friar, who, drawing himself up to
his full height, looked fixedly back at the knight. Then of a sudden Sir
Richard's cheeks grew pale, for he knew who it was that he looked upon.
Quickly he leaped from off his horse's back and flung himself upon his
knees before the other. At this, the King, seeing that Sir Richard knew
him, threw back his cowl, and all the yeomen saw his face and knew him
also, for there was not one of them but had been in the crowd in the
good town of Nottingham, and had seen him riding side by side with the
Sheriff. Down they fell upon their knees, nor could they say a word.
Then the King looked all around right grimly, and, last of all, his
glance came back and rested again upon Sir Richard of the Lea.
"How is this, Sir Richard?" said he sternly. "How darest thou step
between me and these fellows? And how darest thou offer thy knightly
Castle of the Lea for a refuge to them? Wilt thou make it a hiding place
for the most renowned outlaws in England?"
Then Sir Richard of the Lea raised his eyes to the King's face. "Far be
it from me," said he, "to do aught that could bring Your Majesty's anger
upon me. Yet, sooner would I face Your Majesty's wrath than suffer
aught of harm that I could stay to fall upon Robin Hood and his band;
for to them I owe life, honor, everything. Should I, then, desert him
in his hour of need?"
Ere the knight had done speaking, one of the mock friars that stood near
the King came forward and knelt beside Sir Richard, and throwing back
his cowl showed the face of young Sir Henry of the Lea. Then Sir Henry
grasped his father's hand and said, "Here kneels one who hath served
thee well, King Richard, and, as thou knowest, hath stepped between thee
and death in Palestine; yet do I abide by my dear father, and here I say
also, that I would freely give shelter to this noble outlaw, Robin Hood,
even though it brought thy wrath upon me, for my father's honor and my
father's welfare are as dear to me as mine own."
King Richard looked from one to the other of the kneeling knights, and
at last the frown faded from his brow and a smile twitched at the
corners of his lips. "Marry, Sir Richard," quoth the King, "thou art a
bold-spoken knight, and thy freedom of speech weigheth not heavily
against thee with me. This young son of thine taketh after his sire both
in boldness of speech and of deed, for, as he sayeth, he stepped one
time betwixt me and death; wherefore I would pardon thee for his sake
even if thou hadst done more than thou hast. Rise all of you, for ye
shall suffer no harm through me this day, for it were pity that a merry
time should end in a manner as to mar its joyousness."
Then all arose and the King beckoned Robin Hood to come to him. "How
now," quoth he, "is thine ear still too deaf to hear me speak?"
"Mine ears would be deafened in death ere they would cease to hear Your
Majesty's voice," said Robin. "As for the blow that Your Majesty struck
me, I would say that though my sins are haply many, methinks they have
been paid up in full thereby."
"Thinkest thou so?" said the King with somewhat of sternness in his
voice. "Now I tell thee that but for three things, to wit, my
mercifulness, my love for a stout woodsman, and the loyalty thou hast
avowed for me, thine ears, mayhap, might have been more tightly closed
than ever a buffet from me could have shut them. Talk not lightly of thy
sins, good Robin. But come, look up. Thy danger is past, for hereby I
give thee and all thy band free pardon. But, in sooth, I cannot let you
roam the forest as ye have done in the past; therefore I will take thee
at thy word, when thou didst say thou wouldst give thy service to me,
and thou shalt go back to London with me. We will take that bold knave
Little John also, and likewise thy cousin, Will Scarlet, and thy
minstrel, Allan a Dale. As for the rest of thy band, we will take their
names and have them duly recorded as royal rangers; for methinks it were
wiser to have them changed to law-abiding caretakers of our deer in
Sherwood than to leave them to run at large as outlawed slayers thereof.
But now get a feast ready; I would see how ye live in the woodlands."
So Robin bade his men make ready a grand feast. Straightway great fires
were kindled and burned brightly, at which savory things roasted
sweetly. While this was going forward, the King bade Robin call Allan a
Dale, for he would hear him sing. So word was passed for Allan, and
presently he came, bringing his harp.
"Marry," said King Richard, "if thy singing match thy looks it is fair
enough. Prythee, strike up a ditty and let us have a taste of thy
skill."
Then Allan touched his harp lightly, and all words were hushed while he
sang thus:
"'_Oh, where has thou been, my daughter?
Oh, where hast thou been this day
Daughter, my daughter?'
'Oh, I have been to the river's side,
Where the waters lie all gray and wide,
And the gray sky broods o'er the leaden tide,
And the shrill wind sighs a straining.'
"'What sawest thou there, my daughter?
What sawest thou there this day,
Daughter, my daughter?'
'Oh, I saw a boat come drifting nigh,
Where the quivering rushes hiss and sigh,
And the water soughs as it gurgles by,
And the shrill wind sighs a straining.'
"'What sailed in the boat, my daughter?
What sailed in the boat this day,
Daughter, my daughter?'
'Oh, there was one all clad in white,
And about his face hung a pallid light,
And his eyes gleamed sharp like the stars at night,
And the shrill wind sighed a straining.'
"'And what said he, my daughter?
What said he to thee this day,
Daughter, my daughter?'
'Oh, said he nought, but did he this:
Thrice on my lips did he press a kiss,
And my heartstrings shrunk with an awful bliss,
And the shrill wind sighed a straining.'
"'Why growest thou so cold, my daughter?
Why growest thou so cold and white,
Daughter, my daughter?'
Oh, never a word the daughter said,
But she sat all straight with a drooping head,
For her heart was stilled and her face was dead:
And the shrill wind sighed a straining_."
All listened in silence; and when Allan a Dale had done King Richard
heaved a sigh. "By the breath of my body, Allan," quoth he, "thou hast
such a wondrous sweet voice that it strangely moves my heart. But what
doleful ditty is this for the lips of a stout yeoman? I would rather
hear thee sing a song of love and battle than a sad thing like that.
Moreover, I understand it not; what meanest thou by the words?"
"I know not, Your Majesty," said Allan, shaking his head, "for ofttimes
I sing that which I do not clearly understand mine own self."
"Well, well," quoth the King, "let it pass; only I tell thee this,
Allan, thou shouldst turn thy songs to such matters as I spoke of, to
wit, love or war; for in sooth thou hast a sweeter voice than Blondell,
and methought he was the best minstrel that ever I heard."
But now one came forward and said that the feast was ready; so Robin
Hood brought King Richard and those with him to where it lay all spread
out on fair white linen cloths which lay upon the soft green grass. Then
King Richard sat him down and feasted and drank, and when he was done he
swore roundly that he had never sat at such a lusty repast in all his
life before.
That night he lay in Sherwood Forest upon a bed of sweet green leaves,
and early the next morning he set forth from the woodlands for
Nottingham Town, Robin Hood and all of his band going with him. You may
guess what a stir there was in the good town when all these famous
outlaws came marching into the streets. As for the Sheriff, he knew not
what to say nor where to look when he saw Robin Hood in such high favor
with the King, while all his heart was filled with gall because of the
vexation that lay upon him.
The next day the King took leave of Nottingham Town; so Robin Hood and
Little John and Will Scarlet and Allan a Dale shook hands with all the
rest of the band, kissing the cheeks of each man, and swearing that they
would often come to Sherwood and see them. Then each mounted his horse
and rode away in the train of the King.