The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood
bidden, and pity it is that we were not; so, lest we should both feel
the matter the more keenly, I will say no more about it.
Robin Hood Aids a Sorrowful Knight
SO PASSED the gentle springtime away in budding beauty; its silver
showers and sunshine, its green meadows and its flowers. So, likewise,
passed the summer with its yellow sunlight, its quivering heat and deep,
bosky foliage, its long twilights and its mellow nights, through which
the frogs croaked and fairy folk were said to be out on the hillsides.
All this had passed and the time of fall had come, bringing with it its
own pleasures and joyousness; for now, when the harvest was gathered
home, merry bands of gleaners roamed the country about, singing along
the roads in the daytime, and sleeping beneath the hedgerows and the
hay-ricks at night. Now the hips burned red in the tangled thickets and
the hews waxed black in the hedgerows, the stubble lay all crisp and
naked to the sky, and the green leaves were fast turning russet and
brown. Also, at this merry season, good things of the year are gathered
in in great store. Brown ale lies ripening in the cellar, hams and bacon
hang in the smoke-shed, and crabs are stowed away in the straw for
roasting in the wintertime, when the north wind piles the snow in drifts
around the gables and the fire crackles warm upon the hearth.
So passed the seasons then, so they pass now, and so they will pass in
time to come, while we come and go like leaves of the tree that fall and
are soon forgotten.
Quoth Robin Hood, snuffing the air, "Here is a fair day, Little John,
and one that we can ill waste in idleness. Choose such men as thou dost
need, and go thou east while I will wend to the west, and see that each
of us bringeth back some goodly guest to dine this day beneath the
greenwood tree."
"Marry," cried Little John, clapping his palms together for joy, "thy
bidding fitteth my liking like heft to blade. I'll bring thee back a
guest this day, or come not back mine own self."
Then they each chose such of the band as they wished, and so went forth
by different paths from the forest.
Now, you and I cannot go two ways at the same time while we join in
these merry doings; so we will e'en let Little John follow his own path
while we tuck up our skirts and trudge after Robin Hood. And here is
good company, too; Robin Hood, Will Scarlet, Allan a Dale, Will
Scathelock, Midge, the Miller's son, and others. A score or more of
stout fellows had abided in the forest, with Friar Tuck, to make ready
for the homecoming, but all the rest were gone either with Robin Hood or
Little John.
They traveled onward, Robin following his fancy and the others following
Robin. Now they wended their way through an open dale with cottage and
farm lying therein, and now again they entered woodlands once more.
Passing by fair Mansfield Town, with its towers and battlements and
spires all smiling in the sun, they came at last out of the forest
lands. Onward they journeyed, through highway and byway, through
villages where goodwives and merry lasses peeped through the casements
at the fine show of young men, until at last they came over beyond
Alverton in Derbyshire. By this time high noontide had come, yet they
had met no guest such as was worth their while to take back to Sherwood;
so, coming at last to a certain spot where a shrine stood at the
crossing of two roads, Robin called upon them to stop, for here on
either side was shelter of high hedgerows, behind which was good hiding,
whence they could watch the roads at their ease, while they ate their
midday meal. Quoth merry Robin, "Here, methinks, is good lodging, where
peaceful folk, such as we be, can eat in quietness; therefore we will
rest here, and see what may, perchance, fall into our luck-pot." So they
crossed a stile and came behind a hedgerow where the mellow sunlight was
bright and warm, and where the grass was soft, and there sat them down.
Then each man drew from the pouch that hung beside him that which he had
brought to eat, for a merry walk such as this had been sharpens the
appetite till it is as keen as a March wind. So no more words were
spoken, but each man saved his teeth for better use--munching at brown
crust and cold meat right lustily.
In front of them, one of the highroads crawled up the steep hill and
then dipped suddenly over its crest, sharp-cut with hedgerow and shaggy
grass against the sky. Over the top of the windy hill peeped the eaves
of a few houses of the village that fell back into the valley behind;
there, also, showed the top of a windmill, the sails slowly rising and
dipping from behind the hill against the clear blue sky, as the light
wind moved them with creaking and labored swing.
So the yeomen lay behind the hedge and finished their midday meal; but
still the time slipped along and no one came. At last, a man came
slowly riding over the hill and down the stony road toward the spot
where Robin and his band lay hidden. He was a good stout knight, but
sorrowful of face and downcast of mien. His clothes were plain and
rich, but no chain of gold, such as folk of his stand in life wore at
most times, hung around his neck, and no jewel was about him; yet no one
could mistake him for aught but one of proud and noble blood. His head
was bowed upon his breast and his hands drooped limp on either side; and
so he came slowly riding, as though sunk in sad thoughts, while even his
good horse, the reins loose upon his neck, walked with hanging head, as
though he shared his master's grief.
Quoth Robin Hood, "Yon is verily a sorry-looking gallant, and doth seem
to have donned ill-content with his jerkin this morning; nevertheless, I
will out and talk with him, for there may be some pickings here for a
hungry daw. Methinks his dress is rich, though he himself is so
downcast. Bide ye here till I look into this matter." So saying, he
arose and left them, crossed the road to the shrine, and there stood,
waiting for the sorrowful knight to come near him. So, presently, when
the knight came riding slowly along, jolly Robin stepped forward and
laid his hand upon the bridle rein. "Hold, Sir Knight," quoth he. "I
prythee tarry for a short time, for I have a few words to say to thee."
"What art thou, friend, who dost stop a traveler in this manner upon his
most gracious Majesty's highway?" said the Knight.
"Marry," quoth Robin, "that is a question hard to answer. One man
calleth me kind, another calleth me cruel; this one calleth me good
honest fellow, and that one, vile thief. Truly, the world hath as many
eyes to look upon a man withal as there are spots on a toad; so, with
what pair of eyes thou regardest me lieth entirely with thine own self.
My name is Robin Hood."
"Truly, good Robin," said the Knight, a smile twitching at the corners
of his mouth, "thou hast a quaint conceit. As for the pair of eyes with
which I regard thee, I would say that they are as favorable as may be,
for I hear much good of thee and little ill. What is thy will of me?"
"Now, I make my vow, Sir Knight," quoth Robin, "thou hast surely learned
thy wisdom of good Gaffer Swanthold, for he sayeth, 'Fair words are as
easy spoke as foul, and bring good will in the stead of blows.' Now I
will show thee the truth of this saying; for, if thou wilt go with me
this day to Sherwood Forest, I will give thee as merry a feast as ever
thou hadst in all thy life."
"Thou art indeed kind," said the Knight, "but methinks thou wilt find me
but an ill-seeming and sorrowful guest. Thou hadst best let me pass on
my way in peace."
"Nay," quoth Robin, "thou mightst go thine own way but for one thing,
and that I will tell thee. We keep an inn, as it were, in the very
depths of Sherwood, but so far from highroads and beaten paths that
guests do not often come nigh us; so I and my friends set off merrily
and seek them when we grow dull of ourselves. Thus the matter stands,
Sir Knight; yet I will furthermore tell thee that we count upon our
guests paying a reckoning."
"I take thy meaning, friend," said the Knight gravely, "but I am not thy
man, for I have no money by me."
"Is it sooth?" said Robin, looking at the Knight keenly. "I can scarce
choose but believe thee; yet, Sir Knight, there be those of thy order
whose word is not to be trusted as much as they would have others
believe. Thou wilt think no ill if I look for myself in this matter."
Then, still holding the horse by the bridle rein, he put his fingers to
his lips and blew a shrill whistle, whereupon fourscore yeomen came
leaping over the stile and ran to where the Knight and Robin stood.
"These," said Robin, looking upon them proudly, "are some of my merry
men. They share and share alike with me all joys and troubles, gains and
losses. Sir Knight, I prythee tell me what money thou hast about thee."
For a time the Knight said not a word, but a slow red arose into his
cheeks; at last he looked Robin in the face and said, "I know not why I
should be ashamed, for it should be no shame to me; but, friend, I tell
thee the truth, when I say that in my purse are ten shillings, and that
that is every groat that Sir Richard of the Lea hath in all the wide
world."
When Sir Richard ended a silence fell, until at last Robin said, "And
dost thou pledge me thy knightly word that this is all thou hast with
thee?"
"Yea," answered Sir Richard, "I do pledge thee my most solemn word, as a
true knight, that it is all the money I have in the world. Nay, here is
my purse, ye may find for yourselves the truth of what I say." And he
held his purse out to Robin.
"Put up thy purse, Sir Richard," quoth Robin. "Far be it from me to
doubt the word of so gentle a knight. The proud I strive to bring low,
but those that walk in sorrow I would aid if I could. Come, Sir Richard,
cheer up thy heart and go with us into the greenwood. Even I may
perchance aid thee, for thou surely knowest how the good Athelstane was
saved by the little blind mole that digged a trench over which he that
sought the king's life stumbled."
"Truly, friend," said Sir Richard, "methinks thou meanest kindness in
thine own way; nevertheless my troubles are such that it is not likely
that thou canst cure them. But I will go with thee this day into
Sherwood." Hereupon he turned his horse's head, and they all wended
their way to the woodlands, Robin walking on one side of the Knight and
Will Scarlet on the other, while the rest of the band trudged behind.
After they had traveled thus for a time Robin Hood spake. "Sir Knight,"
said he, "I would not trouble thee with idle questions; but dost thou
find it in thy heart to tell me thy sorrows?"
"Truly, Robin," quoth the Knight, "I see no reason why I should not do
so. Thus it is: My castle and my lands are in pawn for a debt that I
owe. Three days hence the money must be paid or else all mine estate is
lost forever, for then it falls into the hands of the Priory of Emmet,
and what they swallow they never give forth again."
Quoth Robin, "I understand not why those of thy kind live in such a
manner that all their wealth passeth from them like snow beneath the
springtide sun."
"Thou wrongest me, Robin," said the Knight, "for listen: I have a son
but twenty winters old, nevertheless he has won his spurs as knight.
Last year, on a certain evil day, the jousts were held at Chester, and
thither my son went, as did I and my lady wife. I wot it was a proud
time for us, for he unhorsed each knight that he tilted against. At last
he ran a course with a certain great knight, Sir Walter of Lancaster,
yet, though my son was so youthful, he kept his seat, albeit both spears
were shivered to the heft; but it happened that a splinter of my boy's
lance ran through the visor of Sir Walter's helmet and pierced through