The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood
and bred, and thence I come to seek my mother's young brother, whom men
call Robin Hood. So, if perchance thou mayst direct me--"
"Ha! Will Gamwell!" cried Robin, placing both hands upon the other's
shoulders and holding him off at arm's length. "Surely, it can be none
other! I might have known thee by that pretty maiden air of thine--that
dainty, finicking manner of gait. Dost thou not know me, lad? Look upon
me well."
"Now, by the breath of my body!" cried the other, "I do believe from my
heart that thou art mine own Uncle Robin. Nay, certain it is so!" And
each flung his arms around the other, kissing him upon the cheek.
Then once more Robin held his kinsman off at arm's length and scanned
him keenly from top to toe. "Why, how now," quoth he, "what change is
here? Verily, some eight or ten years ago I left thee a stripling lad,
with great joints and ill-hung limbs, and lo! here thou art, as tight a
fellow as e'er I set mine eyes upon. Dost thou not remember, lad, how I
showed thee the proper way to nip the goose feather betwixt thy fingers
and throw out thy bow arm steadily? Thou 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."
"No, no," quoth Robin hastily, and looking sideways at Little John,
"thou didst not harm me. But say no more of that, I prythee. Yet I will
say, lad, that I hope I may never feel again such a blow as thou didst
give me. By'r Lady, my arm doth tingle yet from fingernail to elbow.
Truly, I thought that I was palsied for life. I tell thee, coz, that
thou art the strongest man that ever I laid mine eyes upon. I take my
vow, I felt my stomach quake when I beheld thee pluck up yon green tree
as thou didst. But tell me, how camest thou to leave Sir Edward and thy
mother?"
"Alas!" answered young Gamwell, "it is an ill story, uncle, that I have
to tell thee. My father's steward, who came to us after old Giles
Crookleg died, was ever a saucy varlet, and I know not why my father
kept him, saving that he did oversee with great judgment. It used to
gall me to hear him speak up so boldly to my father, who, thou knowest,
was ever a patient man to those about him, and slow to anger and harsh
words. Well, one day--and an ill day it was for that saucy fellow--he
sought to berate my father, I standing by. I could stand it no longer,
good uncle, so, stepping forth, I gave him a box o' the ear, and--
wouldst thou believe it?--the fellow straightway died o't. I think they
said I broke his neck, or something o' the like. So off they packed me
to seek thee and escape the law. I was on my way when thou sawest me,
and here I am."
"Well, by the faith of my heart," quoth Robin Hood, "for anyone escaping
the law, thou wast taking it the most easily that ever I beheld in all
my life. Whenever did anyone in all the world see one who had slain a
man, and was escaping because of it, tripping along the highway like a
dainty court damsel, sniffing at a rose the while?"
"Nay, uncle," answered Will Gamwell, "overhaste never churned good
butter, as the old saying hath it. Moreover, I do verily believe that
this overstrength of my body hath taken the nimbleness out of my heels.
Why, thou didst but just now rap me thrice, and I thee never a once,
save by overbearing thee by my strength."
"Nay," quoth Robin, "let us say no more on that score. I am right glad
to see thee, Will, and thou wilt add great honor and credit to my band
of merry fellows. But thou must change thy name, for warrants will be
out presently against thee; so, because of thy gay clothes, thou shalt
henceforth and for aye be called Will Scarlet."
"Will Scarlet," quoth Little John, stepping forward and reaching out his
great palm, which the other took, "Will Scarlet, the name fitteth thee
well. Right glad am I to welcome thee among us. I am called Little
John; and this is a new member who has just joined us, a stout tanner
named Arthur a Bland. Thou art like to achieve fame, Will, let me tell
thee, for there will be many a merry ballad sung about the country, and
many a merry story told in Sherwood of how Robin Hood taught Little John
and Arthur a Bland the proper way to use the quarterstaff; likewise, as
it were, how our good master bit off so large a piece of cake that he
choked on it."
"Nay, good Little John," quoth Robin gently, for he liked ill to have
such a jest told of him. "Why should we speak of this little matter?
Prythee, let us keep this day's doings among ourselves."
"With all my heart," quoth Little John. "But, good master, I thought
that thou didst love a merry story, because thou hast so often made a
jest about a certain increase of fatness on my joints, of flesh gathered
by my abiding with the Sheriff of--"
"Nay, good Little John," said Robin hastily, "I do bethink me I have
said full enough on that score."
"It is well," quoth Little John, "for in truth I myself have tired of it
somewhat. But now I bethink me, thou didst also seem minded to make a
jest of the rain that threatened last night; so--"
"Nay, then," said Robin Hood testily, "I was mistaken. I remember me now
it did seem to threaten rain."
"Truly, I did think so myself," quoth Little John, "therefore, no doubt,
thou dost think it was wise of me to abide all night at the Blue Boar
Inn, instead of venturing forth in such stormy weather; dost thou not?"
"A plague of thee and thy doings!" cried Robin Hood. "If thou wilt have
it so, thou wert right to abide wherever thou didst choose."
"Once more, it is well," quoth Little John. "As for myself, I have been
blind this day. I did not see thee drubbed; I did not see thee tumbled
heels over head in the dust; and if any man says that thou wert, I can
with a clear conscience rattle his lying tongue betwixt his teeth."
"Come," cried Robin, biting his nether lip, while the others could not
forbear laughing. "We will go no farther today, but will return to
Sherwood, and thou shalt go to Ancaster another time, Little John."
So said Robin, for now that his bones were sore, he felt as though a
long journey would be an ill thing for him. So, turning their backs,
they retraced their steps whence they came.
The Adventure with Midge the Miller's Son
WHEN THE four yeomen had traveled for a long time toward Sherwood again,
high noontide being past, they began to wax hungry. Quoth Robin Hood, "I
would that I had somewhat to eat. Methinks a good loaf of white bread,
with a piece of snow-white cheese, washed down with a draught of humming
ale, were a feast for a king."
"Since thou speakest of it," said Will Scarlet, "methinks it would not
be amiss myself. There is that within me crieth out, 'Victuals, good
friend, victuals!'"
"I know a house near by," said Arthur a Bland, "and, had I but the
money, I would bring ye that ye speak of; to wit, a sweet loaf of bread,
a fair cheese, and a skin of brown ale."
"For the matter of that, thou knowest I have money by me, good master,"
quoth Little John.
"Why, so thou hast, Little John," said Robin. "How much money will it
take, good Arthur, to buy us meat and drink?"
"I think that six broad pennies will buy food enow for a dozen men,"
said the Tanner.
"Then give him six pennies, Little John," quoth Robin, "for methinks
food for three men will about fit my need. Now get thee gone, Arthur,
with the money, and bring the food here, for there is a sweet shade in
that thicket yonder, beside the road, and there will we eat our meal."
So Little John gave Arthur the money, and the others stepped to the
thicket, there to await the return of the Tanner.
After a time he came back, bearing with him a great brown loaf of bread,
and a fair, round cheese, and a goatskin full of stout March beer, slung
over his shoulders. Then Will Scarlet took his sword and divided the
loaf and the cheese into four fair portions, and each man helped
himself. Then Robin Hood took a deep pull at the beer. "Aha!" said he,
drawing in his breath, "never have I tasted sweeter drink than this."
After this no man spake more, but each munched away at his bread and
cheese lustily, with ever and anon a pull at the beer.
At last Will Scarlet looked at a small piece of bread he still held in
his hand, and quoth he, "Methinks I will give this to the sparrows." So,
throwing it from him, he brushed the crumbs from his jerkin.
"I, too," quoth Robin, "have had enough, I think." As for Little John
and the Tanner, they had by this time eaten every crumb of their bread
and cheese.
"Now," quoth Robin, "I do feel myself another man, and would fain enjoy
something pleasant before going farther upon our journey. I do bethink
me, Will, that thou didst use to have a pretty voice, and one that tuned
sweetly upon a song. Prythee, give us one ere we journey farther."
"Truly, I do not mind turning a tune," answered Will Scarlet, "but I
would not sing alone."
"Nay, others will follow. Strike up, lad," quoth Robin.
"In that case, 'tis well," said Will Scarlet. "I do call to mind a song
that a certain minstrel used to sing in my father's hall, upon occasion.
I know no name for it and so can give you none; but thus it is." Then,
clearing his throat, he sang:
"_In the merry blossom time,
When love longings food the breast,
When the flower is on the lime,
When the small fowl builds her nest,
Sweetly sings the nightingale
And the throstle cock so bold;
Cuckoo in the dewy dale
And the turtle in the word.
But the robin I love dear,
For he singeth through the year.
Robin! Robin!
Merry Robin!
So I'd have my true love be:
Not to fly
At the nigh
Sign of cold adversity_.
"_When the spring brings sweet delights,
When aloft the lark doth rise,
Lovers woo o' mellow nights,
And youths peep in maidens' eyes,
That time blooms the eglantine,
Daisies pied upon the hill,
Cowslips fair and columbine,
Dusky violets by the rill.
But the ivy green cloth grow
When the north wind bringeth snow.
Ivy! Ivy!
Stanch and true!
Thus I'd have her love to be:
Not to die
At the nigh
Breath of cold adversity_."
"'Tis well sung," quoth Robin, "but, cousin, I tell thee plain, I would
rather hear a stout fellow like thee sing some lusty ballad than a
finicking song of flowers and birds, and what not. Yet, thou didst sing
it fair, and 'tis none so bad a snatch of a song, for the matter of
that. Now, Tanner, it is thy turn."
"I know not," quoth Arthur, smiling, with his head on one side, like a
budding lass that is asked to dance, "I know not that I can match our
sweet friend's song; moreover, I do verily think that I have caught a
cold and have a certain tickling and huskiness in the windpipe."
"Nay, sing up, friend," quoth Little John, who sat next to him, patting
him upon the shoulder. "Thou hast a fair, round, mellow voice; let us
have a touch of it."
"Nay, an ye will ha' a poor thing," said Arthur, "I will do my best.
Have ye ever heard of the wooing of Sir Keith, the stout young Cornish
knight, in good King Arthur's time?"
"Methinks I have heard somewhat of it," said Robin; "but ne'ertheless
strike up thy ditty and let us hear it, for, as I do remember me, it is
a gallant song; so out with it, good fellow."
Thereupon, clearing his throat, the Tanner, without more ado, began to
sing:
THE WOOING OF SIR KEITH
"_King Arthur sat in his royal hall,
And about on either hand
Was many a noble lordling tall,