"_King Arthur sat in his royal hall,
And about on either hand
Was many a noble lordling tall,
The greatest in the land.
"Sat Lancelot with raven locks,
Gawaine with golden hair,
Sir Tristram, Kay who kept the locks,
And many another there.
"And through the stained windows bright,
From o'er the red-tiled eaves,
The sunlight blazed with colored light
On golden helms and greaves.
"But suddenly a silence came
About the Table Round,
For up the hall there walked a dame
Bent nigh unto the ground.
"Her nose was hooked, her eyes were bleared,
Her locks were lank and white;
Upon her chin there grew a beard;
She was a gruesome sight.
"And so with crawling step she came
And kneeled at Arthur's feet;
Quoth Kay, 'She is the foulest dame
That e'er my sight did greet.'
"'O mighty King! of thee I crave
A boon on bended knee';
'Twas thus she spoke. 'What wouldst thou have.'
Quoth Arthur, King, 'of me_?'
"_Quoth she, 'I have a foul disease
Doth gnaw my very heart,
And but one thing can bring me ease
Or cure my bitter smart.
"'There is no rest, no ease for me
North, east, or west, or south,
Till Christian knight will willingly
Thrice kiss me on the mouth.
"'Nor wedded may this childe have been
That giveth ease to me;
Nor may he be constrained, I ween,
But kiss me willingly.
"'So is there here one Christian knight
Of such a noble strain
That he will give a tortured wight
Sweet ease of mortal pain?'
"'A wedded man,' quoth Arthur, King,
'A wedded man I be
Else would I deem it noble thing
To kiss thee willingly.
"'Now, Lancelot, in all men's sight
Thou art the head and chief
Of chivalry. Come, noble knight,
And give her quick relief.'
"But Lancelot he turned aside
And looked upon the ground,
For it did sting his haughty pride
To hear them laugh around.
"'Come thou, Sir Tristram,' quoth the King.
Quoth he, 'It cannot be,
For ne'er can I my stomach bring
To do it willingly.'
"'Wilt thou, Sir Kay, thou scornful wight?'
Quoth Kay, 'Nay, by my troth!
What noble dame would kiss a knight
That kissed so foul a mouth_?'
"'_Wilt thou, Gawaine?' 'I cannot, King.'
'Sir Geraint?' 'Nay, not I;
My kisses no relief could bring,
For sooner would I die.'
"Then up and spake the youngest man
Of all about the board,
'Now such relief as Christian can
I'll give to her, my lord.'
"It was Sir Keith, a youthful knight,
Yet strong of limb and bold,
With beard upon his chin as light
As finest threads of gold.
"Quoth Kay, 'He hath no mistress yet
That he may call his own,
But here is one that's quick to get,
As she herself has shown.'
"He kissed her once, he kissed her twice,
He kissed her three times o'er,
A wondrous change came in a trice,
And she was foul no more.
"Her cheeks grew red as any rose,
Her brow as white as lawn,
Her bosom like the winter snows,
Her eyes like those of fawn.
"Her breath grew sweet as summer breeze
That blows the meadows o'er;
Her voice grew soft as rustling trees,
And cracked and harsh no more.
"Her hair grew glittering, like the gold,
Her hands as white as milk;
Her filthy rags, so foul and old,
Were changed to robes of silk.
"In great amaze the knights did stare.
Quoth Kay, 'I make my vow
If it will please thee, lady fair,
I'll gladly kiss thee now_.'
"_But young Sir Keith kneeled on one knee
And kissed her robes so fair.
'O let me be thy slave,' said he,
'For none to thee compare.'
"She bent her down, she kissed his brow,
She kissed his lips and eyes.
Quoth she, 'Thou art my master now,
My lord, my love, arise!
"'And all the wealth that is mine own,
My lands, I give to thee,
For never knight hath lady shown
Such noble courtesy.
"'Bewitched was I, in bitter pain,
But thou hast set me free,
So now I am myself again,
I give myself to thee_.'"
"Yea, truly," quoth Robin Hood, when the Tanner had made an end of
singing, "it is as I remember it, a fair ditty, and a ballad with a
pleasing tune of a song."
"It hath oftentimes seemed to me," said Will Scarlet, "that it hath a
certain motive in it, e'en such as this: That a duty which seemeth to us
sometimes ugly and harsh, when we do kiss it fairly upon the mouth, so
to speak, is no such foul thing after all."
"Methinks thou art right," quoth Robin, "and, contrariwise, that when we
kiss a pleasure that appeareth gay it turneth foul to us; is it not so,
Little John? Truly such a thing hath brought thee sore thumps this day.
Nay, man, never look down in the mouth. Clear thy pipes and sing us a
ditty."
"Nay," said Little John, "I have none as fair as that merry Arthur has
trolled. They are all poor things that I know. Moreover, my voice is
not in tune today, and I would not spoil even a tolerable song by ill
singing."
Upon this all pressed Little John to sing, so that when he had denied
them a proper length of time, such as is seemly in one that is asked
to sing, he presently yielded. Quoth he, 'Well, an ye will ha' it so,
I will give you what I can. Like to fair Will, I have no title to my
ditty, but thus it runs:
"_O Lady mine, the spring is here,
With a hey nonny nonny;
The sweet love season of the year,
With a ninny ninny nonny;
Now lad and lass
Lie in the grass
That groweth green
With flowers between.
The buck doth rest
The leaves do start,
The cock doth crow,
The breeze doth blow,
And all things laugh in_--"
"Who may yon fellow be coming along the road?" said Robin, breaking into
the song.
"I know not," quoth Little John in a surly voice. "But this I do know,
that it is an ill thing to do to check the flow of a good song."
"Nay, Little John," said Robin, "be not vexed, I prythee; but I have
been watching him coming along, bent beneath that great bag over his
shoulder, ever since thou didst begin thy song. Look, Little John, I
pray, and see if thou knowest him."
Little John looked whither Robin Hood pointed. "Truly," quoth he, after
a time, "I think yon fellow is a certain young miller I have seen now
and then around the edge of Sherwood; a poor wight, methinks, to spoil a
good song about."
"Now thou speakest of him," quoth Robin Hood, "methinks I myself have
seen him now and then. Hath he not a mill over beyond Nottingham Town,
nigh to the Salisbury road?"
"Thou art right; that is the man," said Little John.
"A good stout fellow," quoth Robin. "I saw him crack Ned o' Bradford's
crown about a fortnight since, and never saw I hair lifted more neatly
in all my life before."
By this time the young miller had come so near that they could see
him clearly. His clothes were dusted with flour, and over his back he
carried a great sack of meal, bending so as to bring the whole weight
upon his shoulders, and across the sack was a thick quarterstaff. His
limbs were stout and strong, and he strode along the dusty road right
sturdily with the heavy sack across his shoulders. His cheeks were ruddy
as a winter hip, his hair was flaxen in color, and on his chin was a
downy growth of flaxen beard.
"A good honest fellow," quoth Robin Hood, "and such an one as is a
credit to English yeomanrie. Now let us have a merry jest with him. We
will forth as though we were common thieves and pretend to rob him of
his honest gains. Then will we take him into the forest and give him
a feast such as his stomach never held in all his life before. We will
flood his throat with good canary and send him home with crowns in his
purse for every penny he hath. What say ye, lads?"
"Truly, it is a merry thought," said Will Scarlet.
"It is well planned," quoth Little John, "but all the saints preserve us
from any more drubbings this day! Marry, my poor bones ache so that I--"
"Prythee peace, Little John," quoth Robin. "Thy foolish tongue will get
us both well laughed at yet."
"My foolish tongue, forsooth," growled Little John to Arthur a Bland.
"I would it could keep our master from getting us into another coil this
day."
But now the Miller, plodding along the road, had come opposite to
where the yeomen lay hidden, whereupon all four of them ran at him and
surrounded him.
"Hold, friend!" cried Robin to the Miller; whereupon he turned slowly,
with the weight of the bag upon his shoulder, and looked at each in turn
all bewildered, for though a good stout man his wits did not skip like
roasting chestnuts.
"Who bids me stay?" said the Miller in a voice deep and gruff, like the
growl of a great dog.
"Marry, that do I," quoth Robin; "and let me tell thee, friend, thou
hadst best mind my bidding."
"And who art thou, good friend?" said the Miller, throwing the great
sack of meal from his shoulder to the ground, "and who are those with
thee?"
"We be four good Christian men," quoth Robin, "and would fain help thee
by carrying part of thy heavy load."
"I give you all thanks," said the Miller, "but my bag is none that heavy
that I cannot carry it e'en by myself."
"Nay, thou dost mistake," quoth Robin, "I meant that thou mightest
perhaps have some heavy farthings or pence about thee, not to speak
of silver and gold. Our good Gaffer Swanthold sayeth that gold is an
overheavy burden for a two-legged ass to carry; so we would e'en lift
some of this load from thee."
"Alas!" cried the Miller, "what would ye do to me? I have not about me
so much as a clipped groat. Do me no harm, I pray you, but let me
depart in peace. Moreover, let me tell you that ye are upon Robin Hood's
ground, and should he find you seeking to rob an honest craftsman, he
will clip your ears to your heads and scourge you even to the walls of
Nottingham.
"In truth I fear Robin Hood no more than I do myself," quoth jolly
Robin. "Thou must this day give up to me every penny thou hast about
thee. Nay, if thou dost budge an inch I will rattle this staff about
thine ears."
"Nay, smite me not!" cried the Miller, throwing up his elbow as though
he feared the blow. "Thou mayst search me if thou wilt, but thou wilt
find nothing upon me, pouch, pocket, or skin."
"Is it so?" quoth Robin Hood, looking keenly upon him. "Now I believe
that what thou tellest is no true tale. If I am not much mistook thou
hast somewhat in the bottom of that fat sack of meal. Good Arthur, empty
the bag upon the ground; I warrant thou wilt find a shilling or two in
the flour."
"Alas!" cried the Miller, falling upon his knees, "spoil not all my good
meal! It can better you not, and will ruin me. Spare it, and I will give
up the money in the bag."
"Ha!" quoth Robin, nudging Will Scarlet. "Is it so? And have I found
where thy money lies? Marry, I have a wondrous nose for the blessed
image of good King Harry. I thought that I smelled gold and silver
beneath the barley meal. Bring it straight forth, Miller."
Then slowly the Miller arose to his feet, and slowly and unwillingly he
untied the mouth of the bag, and slowly thrust his hands into the meal
and began fumbling about with his arms buried to the elbows in the
barley flour. The others gathered round him, their heads together,
looking and wondering what he would bring forth.
So they stood, all with their heads close together gazing down into the
sack. But while he pretended to be searching for the money, the Miller
gathered two great handfuls of meal. "Ha," quoth he, "here they are, the
beauties." Then, as the others leaned still more forward to see what he
had, he suddenly cast the meal into their faces, filling their eyes and
noses and mouths with the flour, blinding and half choking them. Arthur
a Bland was worse off than any, for his mouth was open, agape with
wonder of what was to come, so that a great cloud of flour flew down his
throat, setting him a-coughing till he could scarcely stand.
Then, while all four stumbled about, roaring with the smart of the meal
in their eyeballs, and while they rubbed their eyes till the tears
made great channels on their faces through the meal, the Miller seized
another handful of flour and another and another, throwing it in their
faces, so that even had they had a glimmering of light before they were
now as blind as ever a beggar in Nottinghamshire, while their hair and
beards and clothes were as white as snow.
Then catching up his great crabstaff, the Miller began laying about him
as though he were clean gone mad. This way and that skipped the four,
like peas on a drumhead, but they could see neither to defend themselves
nor to run away. Thwack! thwack! went the Miller's cudgel across their
backs, and at every blow great white clouds of flour rose in the air
from their jackets and went drifting down the breeze.
"Stop!" roared Robin at last. "Give over, good friend, I am Robin Hood!"
"Thou liest, thou knave," cried the Miller, giving him a rap on the ribs
that sent up a great cloud of flour like a puff of smoke. "Stout Robin
never robbed an honest tradesman. Ha! thou wouldst have my money,
wouldst thou?" And he gave him another blow. "Nay, thou art not getting
thy share, thou long-legged knave. Share and share alike." And he smote
Little John across the shoulders so that he sent him skipping half
across the road. "Nay, fear not, it is thy turn now, black beard." And
he gave the Tanner a crack that made him roar for all his coughing. "How
now, red coat, let me brush the dust from thee!" cried he, smiting Will
Scarlet. And so he gave them merry words and blows until they could
scarcely stand, and whenever he saw one like to clear his eyes he threw
more flour in his face. At last Robin Hood found his horn and clapping
it to his lips, blew three loud blasts upon it.
Now it chanced that Will Stutely and a party of Robin's men were in the
glade not far from where this merry sport was going forward. Hearing the
hubbub of voices, and blows that sounded like the noise of a flail in
the barn in wintertime, they stopped, listening and wondering what was
toward. Quoth Will Stutely, "Now if I mistake not there is some stout
battle with cudgels going forward not far hence. I would fain see this
pretty sight." So saying, he and the whole party turned their steps
whence the noise came. When they had come near where all the tumult
sounded they heard the three blasts of Robin's bugle horn.
"Quick!" cried young David of Doncaster. "Our master is in sore need!"
So, without stopping a moment, they dashed forward with might and main
and burst forth from the covert into the highroad.
But what a sight was that which they saw! The road was all white with
meal, and five men stood there also white with meal from top to toe, for
much of the barley flour had fallen back upon the Miller.
"What is thy need, master?" cried Will Stutely. "And what doth all this
mean?"
"Why," quoth Robin in a mighty passion, "yon traitor felt low hath come
as nigh slaying me as e'er a man in all the world. Hadst thou not come
quickly, good Stutely, thy master had been dead."
Hereupon, while he and the three others rubbed the meal from their eyes,
and Will Stutely and his men brushed their clothes clean, he told them
all; how that he had meant to pass a jest upon the Miller, which same
had turned so grievously upon them.
"Quick, men, seize the vile Miller!" cried Stutely, who was nigh choking
with laughter as were the rest; whereupon several ran upon the stout
fellow and seizing him, bound his arms behind his back with bowstrings.
"Ha!" cried Robin, when they brought the trembling Miller to him. "Thou
wouldst murder me, wouldst thou? By my faith,"--Here he stopped and stood
glaring upon the Miller grimly. But Robin's anger could not hold, so
first his eyes twinkled, and then in spite of all he broke into a laugh.
Now when they saw their master laugh, the yeomen who stood around could
contain themselves no longer, and a mighty shout of laughter went up
from all. Many could not stand, but rolled upon the ground from pure
merriment.
"What is thy name, good fellow?" said Robin at last to the Miller, who
stood gaping and as though he were in amaze.
"Alas, sir, I am Midge, the Miller's son," said he in a frightened
voice.
"I make my vow," quoth merry Robin, smiting him upon the shoulder, "thou
art the mightiest Midge that e'er mine eyes beheld. Now wilt thou leave
thy dusty mill and come and join my band? By my faith, thou art too
stout a man to spend thy days betwixt the hopper and the till."
"Then truly, if thou dost forgive me for the blows I struck, not knowing
who thou wast, I will join with thee right merrily," said the Miller.
"Then have I gained this day," quoth Robin, "the three stoutest yeomen
in all Nottinghamshire. We will get us away to the greenwood tree, and
there hold a merry feast in honor of our new friends, and mayhap a cup
or two of good sack and canary may mellow the soreness of my poor joints
and bones, though I warrant it will be many a day before I am again the
man I was." So saying, he turned and led the way, the rest following,
and so they entered the forest once more and were lost to sight.
So that night all was ablaze with crackling fires in the woodlands,
for though Robin and those others spoken of, only excepting Midge, the
Miller's son, had many a sore bump and bruise here and there on their
bodies, they were still not so sore in the joints that they could not
enjoy a jolly feast given all in welcome to the new members of the band.
Thus with songs and jesting and laughter that echoed through the deeper
and more silent nooks of the forest, the night passed quickly along, as
such merry times are wont to do, until at last each man sought his couch
and silence fell on all things and all things seemed to sleep.
But Little John's tongue was ever one that was not easy of guidance,
so that, inch by inch, the whole story of his fight with the Tanner and
Robin's fight with Will Scarlet leaked out. And so I have told it that
you may laugh at the merry tale along with me.