21

King Richard Comes to Sherwood Forest



NOT MORE than two months had passed and gone since these stirring

adventures befell Robin Hood and Little John, when all Nottinghamshire

was a mighty stir and tumult, for King Richard of the Lion's Heart

was making a royal progress through merry England, and everyone

expected him to come to Nottingham Town in his journeying.

Messengers went riding back and forth between the Sheriff and the King,

until at last the time was fixed upon when His Majesty was to stop

in Nottingham, as the guest of his worship.



And now came more bustle than ever; a great running hither and thither,

a rapping of hammers and a babble of voices sounded everywhere

through the place, for the folk were building great arches across

the streets, beneath which the King was to pass, and were draping

these arches with silken banners and streamers of many colors.

Great hubbub was going on in the Guild Hall of the town, also, for here

a grand banquet was to be given to the King and the nobles of his train,

and the best master carpenters were busy building a throne where

the King and the Sheriff were to sit at the head of the table,

side by side.



It seemed to many of the good folk of the place as if the day

that should bring the King into the town would never come;

but all the same it did come in its own season, and bright

shone the sun down into the stony streets, which were all alive

with a restless sea of people. On either side of the way

great crowds of town and country folk stood packed as close

together as dried herring in a box, so that the Sheriffs men,

halberds in hands, could hardly press them back to leave space

for the King's riding.



"Take care whom thou pushest against!" cried a great, burly friar

to one of these men. "Wouldst thou dig thine elbows into me, sirrah?

By'r Lady of the Fountain, an thou dost not treat me with more

deference I will crack thy knave's pate for thee, even though thou

be one of the mighty Sheriff's men."



At this a great shout of laughter arose from a number of tall yeomen in

Lincoln green that were scattered through the crowd thereabouts; but one that

seemed of more authority than the others nudged the holy man with his elbow.

"Peace, Tuck," said he, "didst thou not promise me, ere thou camest here,

that thou wouldst put a check upon thy tongue?"



"Ay, marry," grumbled the other, "but 'a did not think to have

a hard-footed knave trample all over my poor toes as though they

were no more than so many acorns in the forest."



But of a sudden all this bickering ceased, for a clear sound of many

bugle horns came winding down the street. Then all the people

craned their necks and gazed in the direction whence the sound came,

and the crowding and the pushing and the swaying grew greater than ever.

And now a gallant array of men came gleaming into sight, and the cheering

of the people ran down the crowd as the fire runs in dry grass.



Eight and twenty heralds in velvet and cloth of gold came riding forward.

Over their heads fluttered a cloud of snow-white feathers, and each

herald bore in his hand a long silver trumpet, which he blew musically.

From each trumpet hung a heavy banner of velvet and cloth of gold,

with the royal arms of England emblazoned thereon. After these came

riding fivescore noble knights, two by two, all fully armed, saving that

their heads were uncovered. In their hands they bore tall lances,

from the tops of which fluttered pennons of many colors and devices.

By the side of each knight walked a page clad in rich clothes of silk

and velvet, and each page bore in his hands his master's helmet,

from which waved long, floating plumes of feathers. Never had Nottingham seen

a fairer sight than those fivescore noble knights, from whose armor the sun

blazed in dazzling light as they came riding on their great war horses,

with clashing of arms and jingling of chains. Behind the knights came

the barons and the nobles of the mid-country, in robes of silk and cloth

of gold, with golden chains about their necks and jewels at their girdles.

Behind these again came a great array of men-at-arms, with spears and halberds

in their hands, and, in the midst of these, two riders side by side.

One of the horsemen was the Sheriff of Nottingham in his robes of office.

The other, who was a head taller than the Sheriff, was clad in a rich but

simple garb, with a broad, heavy chain about his neck. His hair and beard

were like threads of gold, and his eyes were as blue as the summer sky.

As he rode along he bowed to the right hand and the left, and a mighty

roar of voices followed him as he passed; for this was King Richard.



Then, above all the tumult and the shouting a great voice was

heard roaring, "Heaven, its saints bless thee, our gracious

King Richard! and likewise Our Lady of the Fountain, bless thee!"

Then King Richard, looking toward the spot whence the sound came,

saw a tall, burly, strapping priest standing in front of all the crowd

with his legs wide apart as he backed against those behind.



"By my soul, Sheriff," said the King, laughing, "ye have the tallest

priests in Nottinghamshire that e'er I saw in all my life.

If Heaven never answered prayers because of deafness, methinks I would

nevertheless have blessings bestowed upon me, for that man yonder would make

the great stone image of Saint Peter rub its ears and hearken unto him.

I would that I had an army of such as he."



To this the Sheriff answered never a word, but all the blood left

his cheeks, and he caught at the pommel of his saddle to keep

himself from falling; for he also saw the fellow that so shouted,

and knew him to be Friar Tuck; and, moreover, behind Friar Tuck

he saw the faces of Robin Hood and Little John and Will Scarlet

and Will Stutely and Allan a Dale and others of the band.



"How now," said the King hastily, "art thou ill, Sheriff, that thou

growest so white?"



"Nay, Your Majesty," said the Sheriff, "it was nought but a sudden pain

that will soon pass by." Thus he spake, for he was ashamed that the King

should know that Robin Hood feared him so little that he thus dared to come

within the very gates of Nottingham Town.



Thus rode the King into Nottingham Town on that bright afternoon

in the early fall season; and none rejoiced more than Robin Hood

and his merry men to see him come so royally unto his own.



Eventide had come; the great feast in the Guild Hall

at Nottingham Town was done, and the wine passed freely.

A thousand waxen lights gleamed along the board, at which sat

lord and noble and knight and squire in goodly array.

At the head of the table, upon a throne all hung with cloth of gold,

sat King Richard with the Sheriff of Nottingham beside him.



Quoth the King to the Sheriff, laughing as he spoke, "I have heard

much spoken concerning the doings of certain fellows hereabouts,

one Robin Hood and his band, who are outlaws and abide

in Sherwood Forest. Canst thou not tell me somewhat of them,

Sir Sheriff? For I hear that thou hast had dealings with them

more than once."



At these words the Sheriff of Nottingham looked down gloomily,

and the Bishop of Hereford, who was present, gnawed his nether lip.

Quoth the Sheriff, "I can tell Your Majesty but little concerning

the doings of those naughty fellows, saving that they are the boldest

lawbreakers in all the land."



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

under whom he had fought in Palestine. "May it please Your Majesty,"

said he, "when I was away in Palestine I heard ofttimes from my father,

and in most cases I heard of this very fellow, Robin Hood. If Your Majesty

would like I will tell you a certain adventure of this outlaw."



Then the King laughingly bade him tell his tale, whereupon he told

how Robin Hood had aided Sir Richard of the Lea with money that he had

borrowed from the Bishop of Hereford. Again and again the King and those

present roared with laughter, while the poor Bishop waxed cherry red

in the face with vexation, for the matter was a sore thing with him.

When Sir Henry of the Lea was done, others of those present, seeing how

the King enjoyed this merry tale, told other tales concerning Robin

and his merry men.



"By the hilt of my sword," said stout King Richard, "this is as bold

and merry a knave as ever I heard tell of. Marry, I must take this

matter in hand and do what thou couldst not do, Sheriff, to wit,

clear the forest of him and his band."



That night the King sat in the place that was set apart for his

lodging while in Nottingham Town. With him were young Sir Henry

of the Lea and two other knights and three barons of Nottinghamshire;

but the King's mind still dwelled upon Robin Hood. "Now," quoth he,

"I would freely give a hundred pounds to meet this roguish fellow,

Robin Hood, and to see somewhat of his doings in Sherwood Forest."



Then up spake Sir Hubert of gingham, laughing: "If Your Majesty

hath such a desire upon you it is not so hard to satisfy.

If Your Majesty is willing to lose one hundred pounds,

I will engage to cause you not only to meet this fellow,

but to feast with him in Sherwood."



"Marry, Sir Hubert," quoth the King, "this pleaseth me well.

But how wilt thou cause me to meet Robin Hood?"



"Why, thus," said Sir Hubert, "let Your Majesty and us here present

put on the robes of seven of the Order of Black Friars, and let

Your Majesty hang a purse of one hundred pounds beneath your gown;

then let us undertake to ride from here to Mansfield Town tomorrow,

and, without I am much mistaken, we will both meet with Robin Hood

and dine with him before the day be passed."



"I like thy plan, Sir Hubert," quoth the King merrily, "and tomorrow we

will try it and see whether there be virtue in it."



So it happened that when early the next morning the Sheriff came

to where his liege lord was abiding, to pay his duty to him,

the King told him what they had talked of the night before,

and what merry adventure they were set upon undertaking that morning.

But when the Sheriff heard this he smote his forehead with his fist.

"Alas!" said he, "what evil counsel is this that hath been given thee!

O my gracious lord and King, you know not what you do!

This villain that you thus go to seek hath no reverence either

for king or king's laws."



"But did I not hear aright when I was told that this Robin Hood hath shed no

blood since he was outlawed, saving only that of that vile Guy of Gisbourne,

for whose death all honest men should thank him?"



"Yea, Your Majesty," said the Sheriff, "you have heard aright. Nevertheless--"



"Then," quoth the King, breaking in on the Sheriffs speech,

"what have I to fear in meeting him, having done him no harm?

Truly, there is no danger in this. But mayhap thou wilt go

with us, Sir Sheriff."



"Nay," quoth the Sheriff hastily, "Heaven forbid!"



But now seven habits such as Black Friars wear were brought,

and the King and those about him having clad themselves therein,

and His Majesty having hung a purse with a hundred golden

pounds in it beneath his robes, they all went forth and mounted

the mules that had been brought to the door for them.

Then the King bade the Sheriff be silent as to their doings,

and so they set forth upon their way. Onward they traveled,

laughing and jesting, until they passed through the open country;

between bare harvest fields whence the harvest had been gathered home;

through scattered glades that began to thicken as they went farther

along, till they came within the heavy shade of the forest itself.

They traveled in the forest for several miles without meeting

anyone such as they sought, until they had come to that part

of the road that lay nearest to Newstead Abbey.



"By the holy Saint Martin," quoth the King, "I would that I

had a better head for remembering things of great need.

Here have we come away and brought never so much as a drop

of anything to drink with us. Now I would give half a hundred

pounds for somewhat to quench my thirst withal."



No sooner had the King so spoken, than out from the covert

at the roadside stepped a tall fellow with yellow beard and

hair and a pair of merry blue eyes. "Truly, holy brother,"

said he, laying his hand upon the King's bridle rein, "it were an

unchristian thing to not give fitting answer to so fair a bargain.

We keep an inn hereabouts, and for fifty pounds we will not

only give thee a good draught of wine, but will give thee

as noble a feast as ever thou didst tickle thy gullet withal."

So saying, he put his fingers to his lips and blew a shrill whistle.

Then straightway the bushes and branches on either side of

the road swayed and crackled, and threescore broad-shouldered

yeomen in Lincoln green burst out of the covert.



"How now, fellow," quoth the King, "who art thou, thou naughty rogue?

Hast thou no regard for such holy men as we are?"



"Not a whit," quoth merry Robin Hood, for the fellow was he, "for in sooth

all the holiness belonging to rich friars, such as ye are, one could drop into

a thimble and the goodwife would never feel it with the tip of her finger.

As for my name, it is Robin Hood, and thou mayst have heard it before."



"Now out upon thee!" quoth King Richard. "Thou art a bold and naughty fellow

and a lawless one withal, as I have often heard tell. Now, prythee, let me,

and these brethren of mine, travel forward in peace and quietness."



"It may not be," said Robin, "for it would look but ill of us

to let such holy men travel onward with empty stomachs.

But I doubt not that thou hast a fat purse to pay thy score at our

inn since thou offerest freely so much for a poor draught of wine.

Show me thy purse, reverend brother, or I may perchance have

to strip thy robes from thee to search for it myself."



"Nay, use no force," said the King sternly. "Here is my purse,

but lay not thy lawless hands upon our person."



"Hut, tut," quoth merry Robin, "what proud words are these?

Art thou the King of England, to talk so to me? Here, Will,

take this purse and see what there is within."



Will Scarlet took the purse and counted out the money. Then Robin bade

him keep fifty pounds for themselves, and put fifty back into the purse.

This he handed to the King. "Here, brother," quoth he, "take this half

of thy money, and thank Saint Martin, on whom thou didst call before,

that thou hast fallen into the hands of such gentle rogues that they will not

strip thee bare, as they might do. But wilt thou not put back thy cowl?

For I would fain see thy face."



"Nay," said the King, drawing back, "I may not put back my cowl,

for we seven have vowed that we will not show our faces for four

and twenty hours." ,



"Then keep them covered in peace," said Robin, "and far be it

from me to make you break your vows."



So he called seven of his yeomen and bade them each one take

a mule by the bridle; then, turning their faces toward the depths

of the woodlands, they journeyed onward until they came to the open

glade and the greenwood tree.



Little John, with threescore yeomen at his heels, had also gone forth that

morning to wait along the roads and bring a rich guest to Sherwood glade,

if such might be his luck, for many with fat purses must travel the roads

at this time, when such great doings were going on in Nottinghamshire,

but though Little John and so many others were gone, Friar Tuck and twoscore

or more stout yeomen were seated or lying around beneath the great tree,

and when Robin and the others came they leaped to their feet to meet him.



"By my soul," quoth merry King Richard, when he had gotten down from

his mule and stood looking about him, "thou hast in very truth a fine

lot of young men about thee, Robin. Methinks King Richard himself

would be glad of such a bodyguard."



"These are not all of my fellows," said Robin proudly, "for threescore

more of them are away on business with my good right-hand man,

Little John. But, as for King Richard, I tell thee, brother, there is

not a man of us all but would pour out our blood like water for him.

Ye churchmen cannot rightly understand our King; but we yeomen

love him right loyally for the sake of his brave doings which are

so like our own."



But now Friar Tuck came bustling up. "Gi' ye good den, brothers," said he.

"I am right glad to welcome some of my cloth in this naughty place.

Truly, methinks these rogues of outlaws would stand but an ill chance were it

not for the prayers of Holy Tuck, who laboreth so hard for their well-being."

Here he winked one eye slyly and stuck his tongue into his cheek.



"Who art thou, mad priest?" said the King in a serious voice,

albeit he smiled beneath his cowl.



At this Friar Tuck looked all around with a slow gaze. "Look you now,"

quoth he, "never let me hear you say again that I am no patient man.

Here is a knave of a friar calleth me a mad priest, and yet I smite him not.

My name is Friar Tuck, fellow--the holy Friar Tuck."



"There, Tuck," said Robin, "thou hast said enow. Prythee, cease thy

talk and bring some wine. These reverend men are athirst, and sin'

they have paid so richly for their score they must e'en have the best."



Friar Tuck bridled at being so checked in his speech,

nevertheless he went straightway to do Robin's bidding;

so presently a great crock was brought, and wine was poured out for

all the guests and for Robin Hood. Then Robin held his cup aloft.

"Stay!" cried he. "Tarry in your drinking till I give you a pledge.

Here is to good King Richard of great renown, and may all enemies

to him be confounded."



Then all drank the King's health, even the King himself.

"Methinks, good fellow," said he, "thou hast drunk to

thine own confusion."



"Never a whit," quoth merry Robin, "for I tell thee that we of Sherwood

are more loyal to our lord the King than those of thine order.

We would give up our lives for his benefiting, while ye are content

to lie snug in your abbeys and priories let reign who will."



At this the King laughed. Quoth he, "Perhaps King Richard's welfare is

more to me than thou wottest of, fellow. But enough of that matter.

We have paid well for our fare, so canst thou not show us some

merry entertainment? I have oft heard that ye are wondrous archers;

wilt thou not show us somewhat of your skill?"



"With all my heart," said Robin, "we are always pleased to show our

guests all the sport that is to be seen. As Gaffer Swanthold sayeth,

` 'Tis a hard heart that will not give a caged starling of the best';

and caged starlings ye are with us. Ho, lads! Set up a garland

at the end of the glade."



Then, as the yeomen ran to do their master's bidding, Tuck turned to one

of the mock friars. "Hearest thou our master?" quoth he, with a sly wink.

"Whenever he cometh across some poor piece of wit he straightway layeth

it on the shoulders of this Gaffer Swanthold--whoever he may be--

so that the poor goodman goeth traveling about with all the odds

and ends and tags and rags of our master's brain packed on his back."

Thus spake Friar Tuck, but in a low voice so that Robin could not hear him,

for he felt somewhat nettled at Robin's cutting his talk so short.



In the meantime the mark at which they were to shoot was set up at sixscore

paces distance. It was a garland of leaves and flowers two spans in width,

which same was hung upon a stake in front of a broad tree trunk.

"There," quoth Robin, "yon is a fair mark, lads. Each of you shoot

three arrows thereat; and if any fellow misseth by so much as one arrow,

he shall have a buffet of Will Scarlet's fist."



"Hearken to him!" quoth Friar Tuck. "Why, master, thou dost bestow

buffets from thy strapping nephew as though they were love taps from

some bouncing lass. I warrant thou art safe to hit the garland thyself,

or thou wouldst not be so free of his cuffing."



First David of Doncaster shot, and lodged all three of his

arrows within the garland. "Well done, David!" cried Robin,

"thou hast saved thine ears from a warming this day."

Next Midge, the Miller, shot, and he, also, lodged his arrows

in the garland. Then followed Wat, the Tinker, but alas for him!

For one of his shafts missed the mark by the breadth of two fingers.



"Come hither, fellow," said Will Scarlet, in his soft,

gentle voice, "I owe thee somewhat that I would pay forthwith."

Then Wat, the Tinker, came forward and stood in front of

Will Scarlet, screwing up his face and shutting his eyes tightly,

as though he already felt his ears ringing with the buffet.

Will Scarlet rolled up his sleeve, and, standing on tiptoe to give

the greater swing to his arm, he struck with might and main.

"WHOOF!" came his palm against the Tinker's head, and down went

stout Wat to the grass, heels over head, as the wooden image at

the fair goes down when the skillful player throws a cudgel at it.

Then, as the Tinker sat up upon the grass, rubbing his ear

and winking and blinking at the bright stars that danced before

his eyes, the yeomen roared with mirth till the forest rang.

As for King Richard, he laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks.

Thus the band shot, each in turn, some getting off scot free,

and some winning a buffet that always sent them to the grass. And now,

last of all, Robin took his place, and all was hushed as he shot.

The first shaft he shot split a piece from the stake on which the

garland was hung; the second lodged within an inch of the other.

"By my halidom," said King Richard to himself, "I would give

a thousand pounds for this fellow to be one of my guard!"

And now, for the third time Robin shot; but, alas for him!

The arrow was ill-feathered, and, wavering to one side, it smote

an inch outside the garland.



At this a great roar went up, those of the yeomen who sat upon

the grass rolling over and over and shouting with laughter,

for never before had they seen their master so miss his mark;

but Robin flung his bow upon the ground with vexation.

"Now, out upon it!" cried he. "That shaft had an ill feather to it,

for I felt it as it left my fingers. Give me a clean arrow,

and I will engage to split the wand with it."



At these words the yeomen laughed louder than ever.

"Nay, good uncle," said Will Scarlet in his soft, sweet voice,

"thou hast had thy fair chance and hast missed thine aim out and out.

I swear the arrow was as good as any that hath been loosed this day.

Come hither; I owe thee somewhat, and would fain pay it."



"Go, good master," roared Friar Tuck, "and may my blessing go with thee.

Thou hast bestowed these love taps of Will Scarlet's with great freedom.

It were pity an thou gottest not thine own share."



"It may not be," said merry Robin. "I am king here, and no subject

may raise hand against the king. But even our great King Richard

may yield to the holy Pope without shame, and even take a tap from him

by way of penance; therefore I will yield myself to this holy friar,

who seemeth to be one in authority, and will take my punishment from him."

Thus saying, he turned to the King, "I prythee, brother, wilt thou take

my punishing into thy holy hands?"



"With all my heart," quoth merry King Richard, rising from

where he was sitting. "I owe thee somewhat for having

lifted a heavy weight of fifty pounds from my purse.

So make room for him on the green, lads."



"An thou makest me tumble," quoth Robin, "I will freely give

thee back thy fifty pounds; but I tell thee, brother, if thou

makest me not feel grass all along my back, I will take every

farthing thou hast for thy boastful speech."



"So be it," said the King, "I am willing to venture it." Thereupon he rolled

up his sleeve and showed an arm that made the yeomen stare. But Robin,

with his feet wide apart, stood firmly planted, waiting the other, smiling.

Then the King swung back his arm, and, balancing himself a moment,

he delivered a buffet at Robin that fell like a thunderbolt. Down went Robin

headlong upon the grass, for the stroke would have felled a stone wall.

Then how the yeomen shouted with laughter till their sides ached,

for never had they seen such a buffet given in all their lives.

As for Robin, he presently sat up and looked all around him, as though

he had dropped from a cloud and had lit in a place he had never seen before.

After a while, still gazing about him at his laughing yeomen, he put

his fingertips softly to his ear and felt all around it tenderly.

"Will Scarlet," said he, "count this fellow out his fifty pounds;

I want nothing more either of his money or of him. A murrain seize

him and his buffeting! I would that I had taken my dues from thee,

for I verily believe he hath deafened mine ear from ever hearing again."



Then, while gusts of laughter still broke from the band, Will Scarlet counted

out the fifty pounds, and the King dropped it back into his purse again.

"I give thee thanks, fellow," said he, "and if ever thou shouldst wish

for another box of the ear to match the one thou hast, come to me and I

will fit thee with it for nought."



So spake the merry King; but, even as he ended, there came suddenly

the sound of many voices, and out from the covert burst Little John

and threescore men, with Sir Richard of the Lea in the midst.

Across the glade they came running, and, as they came, Sir Richard

shouted to Robin: "Make haste, dear friend, gather thy band

together and come with me! King Richard left Nottingham Town

this very morning, and cometh to seek thee in the woodlands.

I know not how he cometh, for it was but a rumor of this

that reached me; nevertheless, I know that it is the truth.

Therefore hasten with all thy men, and come to Castle Lea,

for there thou mayst lie hidden till thy present danger passeth.

Who are these strangers that thou hast with thee?"



"Why," quoth merry Robin, rising from the grass, "these are

certain gentle guests that came with us from the highroad over

by Newstead Abbey. I know not their names, but I have become

right well acquaint with this lusty rogue's palm this morning.

Marry, the pleasure of this acquaintance hath dost me a deaf

ear and fifty pounds to boot!"



Sir Richard looked keenly at the tall friar, who, drawing himself

up to his full height, looked fixedly back at the knight.

Then of a sudden Sir Richard's cheeks grew pale, for he knew

who it was that he looked upon. Quickly he leaped from off his

horse's back and flung himself upon his knees before the other.

At this, the King, seeing that Sir Richard knew him, threw back

his cowl, and all the yeomen saw his face and knew him also,

for there was not one of them but had been in the crowd

in the good town of Nottingham, and had seen him riding side

by side with the Sheriff. Down they fell upon their knees,

nor could they say a word. Then the King looked all around

right grimly, and, last of all, his glance came back and rested

again upon Sir Richard of the Lea.



"How is this, Sir Richard?" said he sternly. "How darest

thou step between me and these fellows? And how darest thou

offer thy knightly Castle of the Lea for a refuge to them?

Wilt thou make it a hiding place for the most renowned

outlaws in England?"



Then Sir Richard of the Lea raised his eyes to the King's face.

"Far be it from me," said he, "to do aught that could bring Your Majesty's

anger upon me. Yet, sooner would I face Your Majesty's wrath than suffer

aught of harm that I could stay to fall upon Robin Hood and his band;

for to them I owe life, honor, everything. Should I, then, desert him

in his hour of need?"



Ere the knight had done speaking, one of the mock friars that

stood near the King came forward and knelt beside Sir Richard,

and throwing back his cowl showed the face of young Sir Henry

of the Lea. Then Sir Henry grasped his father's hand and said,

"Here kneels one who hath served thee well, King Richard, and,

as thou knowest, hath stepped between thee and death in Palestine;

yet do I abide by my dear father, and here I say also, that I

would freely give shelter to this noble outlaw, Robin Hood,

even though it brought thy wrath upon me, for my father's honor

and my father's welfare are as dear to me as mine own."



King Richard looked from one to the other of the kneeling knights,

and at last the frown faded from his brow and a smile

twitched at the corners of his lips. "Marry, Sir Richard,"

quoth the King, "thou art a bold-spoken knight, and thy

freedom of speech weigheth not heavily against thee with me.

This young son of thine taketh after his sire both in boldness

of speech and of deed, for, as he sayeth, he stepped one

time betwixt me and death; wherefore I would pardon thee

for his sake even if thou hadst done more than thou hast.

Rise all of you, for ye shall suffer no harm through me this day,

for it were pity that a merry time should end in a manner

as to mar its joyousness."



Then all arose and the King beckoned Robin Hood to come to him.

"How now," quoth he, "is thine ear still too deaf to hear me speak?"



"Mine ears would be deafened in death ere they would cease to hear

Your Majesty's voice," said Robin. "As for the blow that Your Majesty

struck me, I would say that though my sins are haply many, methinks they

have been paid up in full thereby."



"Thinkest thou so?" said the King with somewhat of sternness

in his voice. "Now I tell thee that but for three things, to wit,

my mercifulness, my love for a stout woodsman, and the loyalty

thou hast avowed for me, thine ears, mayhap, might have been more

tightly closed than ever a buffet from me could have shut them.

Talk not lightly of thy sins, good Robin. But come, look up.

Thy danger is past, for hereby I give thee and all thy band

free pardon. But, in sooth, I cannot let you roam the forest as ye

have done in the past; therefore I will take thee at thy word,

when thou didst say thou wouldst give thy service to me,

and thou shalt go back to London with me. We will take that bold

knave Little John also, and likewise thy cousin, Will Scarlet,

and thy minstrel, Allan a Dale. As for the rest of thy band,

we will take their names and have them duly recorded as royal rangers;

for methinks it were wiser to have them changed to law-abiding

caretakers of our deer in Sherwood than to leave them to run

at large as outlawed slayers thereof. But now get a feast ready;

I would see how ye live in the woodlands."



So Robin bade his men make ready a grand feast. Straightway great fires

were kindled and burned brightly, at which savory things roasted sweetly.

While this was going forward, the King bade Robin call Allan a Dale,

for he would hear him sing. So word was passed for Allan, and presently

he came, bringing his harp.



"Marry," said King Richard, "if thy singing match thy looks it

is fair enough. Prythee, strike up a ditty and let us have a taste

of thy skill."



Then Allan touched his harp lightly, and all words were hushed

while he sang thus:





" `_Oh, where has thou been, my daughter?

Oh, where hast thou been this day

Daughter, my daughter?'

`Oh, I have been to the river's side,

Where the waters lie all gray and wide,

And the gray sky broods o'er the leaden tide,

And the shrill wind sighs a straining.'



" `What sawest thou there, my daughter?

What sawest thou there this day,

Daughter, my daughter?'

`Oh, I saw a boat come drifting nigh,

Where the quivering rushes hiss and sigh,

And the water soughs as it gurgles by,

And the shrill wind sighs a straining.'



" `What sailed in the boat, my daughter?

What sailed in the boat this day,

Daughter, my daughter?'

`Oh, there was one all clad in white,

And about his face hung a pallid light,

And his eyes gleamed sharp like the stars at night,

And the shrill wind sighed a straining.'



" `And what said he, my daughter?

What said he to thee this day,

Daughter, my daughter?'

`Oh, said he nought, but did he this:

Thrice on my lips did he press a kiss,

And my heartstrings shrunk with an awful bliss,

And the shrill wind sighed a straining,.'



" `Why growest thou so cold, my daughter?

Why growest thou so cold and white,

Daughter, my daughter?'

Oh, never a word the daughter said,

But she sat all straight with a drooping head,

For her heart was stilled and her face was dead:

And the shrill wind sighed a straining_."





All listened in silence; and when Allan a Dale had done King Richard

heaved a sigh. "By the breath of my body, Allan," quoth he,

"thou hast such a wondrous sweet voice that it strangely moves my heart.

But what doleful ditty is this for the lips of a stout yeoman?

I would rather hear thee sing a song of love and battle than a sad

thing like that. Moreover, I understand it not; what meanest thou

by the words?"



"I know not, Your Majesty," said Allan, shaking his head,

"for ofttimes I sing that which I do not clearly understand

mine own self."



"Well, well," quoth the King, "let it pass; only I tell thee this, Allan,

thou shouldst turn thy songs to such matters as I spoke of, to wit,

love or war; for in sooth thou hast a sweeter voice than Blondell,

and methought he was the best minstrel that ever I heard."



But now one came forward and said that the feast was ready; so Robin Hood

brought King Richard and those with him to where it lay all spread

out on fair white linen cloths which lay upon the soft green grass.

Then King Richard sat him down and feasted and drank, and when he was

done he swore roundly that he had never sat at such a lusty repast

in all his life before.



That night he lay in Sherwood Forest upon a bed of sweet green leaves,

and early the next morning he set forth from the woodlands for

Nottingham Town, Robin Hood and all of his band going with him.

You may guess what a stir there was in the good town when

all these famous outlaws came marching into the streets.

As for the Sheriff, he knew not what to say nor where to look

when he saw Robin Hood in such high favor with the King,

while all his heart was filled with gall because of the vexation

that lay upon him.



The next day the King took leave of Nottingham Town; so Robin Hood

and Little John and Will Scarlet and Allan a Dale shook hands

with all the rest of the band, kissing the cheeks of each man,

and swearing that they would often come to Sherwood and see them.

Then each mounted his horse and rode away in the train of the King.

****

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