The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood
who marched him off, willy-nilly, to Tutbury Town and the Bishop of
Hereford. In vain he swore he was a holy man, and showed his shaven
crown; off he must go, for nothing would do but that he was Robin Hood.
Meanwhile merry Robin rode along contentedly, passing safely by two
bands of the King's men, until his heart began to dance within him
because of the nearness of Sherwood; so he traveled ever on to the
eastward, till, of a sudden, he met a noble knight in a shady lane. Then
Robin checked his mule quickly and leaped from off its back. "Now, well
met, Sir Richard of the Lea," cried he, "for rather than any other man
in England would I see thy good face this day!" Then he told Sir Richard
all the happenings that had befallen him, and that now at last he felt
himself safe, being so nigh to Sherwood again. But when Robin had done,
Sir Richard shook his head sadly. "Thou art in greater danger now,
Robin, than thou hast yet been," said he, "for before thee lie bands of
the Sheriff's men blocking every road and letting none pass through the
lines without examining them closely. I myself know this, having passed
them but now. Before thee lie the Sheriffs men and behind thee the
King's men, and thou canst not hope to pass either way, for by this time
they will know of thy disguise and will be in waiting to seize upon
thee. My castle and everything within it are thine, but nought could be
gained there, for I could not hope to hold it against such a force as is
now in Nottingham of the King's and the Sheriffs men." Having so spoken,
Sir Richard bent his head in thought, and Robin felt his heart sink
within him like that of the fox that hears the hounds at his heels and
finds his den blocked with earth so that there is no hiding for him.
But presently Sir Richard spoke again, saying, "One thing thou canst do,
Robin, and one only. Go back to London and throw thyself upon the mercy
of our good Queen Eleanor. Come with me straightway to my castle. Doff
these clothes and put on such as my retainers wear. Then I will hie me
to London Town with a troop of men behind me, and thou shalt mingle with
them, and thus will I bring thee to where thou mayst see and speak with
the Queen. Thy only hope is to get to Sherwood, for there none can
reach thee, and thou wilt never get to Sherwood but in this way."
So Robin went with Sir Richard of the Lea, and did as he said, for he
saw the wisdom of that which the knight advised, and that this was his
only chance of safety.
Queen Eleanor walked in her royal garden, amid the roses that bloomed
sweetly, and with her walked six of her ladies-in-waiting, chattering
blithely together. Of a sudden a man leaped up to the top of the wall
from the other side, and then, hanging for a moment, dropped lightly
upon the grass within. All the ladies-in-waiting shrieked at the
suddenness of his coming, but the man ran to the Queen and kneeled at
her feet, and she saw that it was Robin Hood.
"Why, how now, Robin!" cried she, "dost thou dare to come into the very
jaws of the raging lion? Alas, poor fellow! Thou art lost indeed if the
King finds thee here. Dost thou not know that he is seeking thee through
all the land?"
"Yea," quoth Robin, "I do know right well that the King seeks me, and
therefore I have come; for, surely, no ill can befall me when he hath
pledged his royal word to Your Majesty for my safety. Moreover, I know
Your Majesty's kindness and gentleness of heart, and so I lay my life
freely in your gracious hands."
"I take thy meaning, Robin Hood," said the Queen, "and that thou dost
convey reproach to me, as well thou mayst, for I know that I have not
done by thee as I ought to have done. I know right well that thou must
have been hard pressed by peril to leap so boldly into one danger to
escape another. Once more I promise thee mine aid, and will do all I can
to send thee back in safety to Sherwood Forest. Bide thou here till I
return." So saying, she left Robin in the garden of roses, and was gone
a long time.
When she came back Sir Robert Lee was with her, and the Queen's cheeks
were hot and the Queen's eyes were bright, as though she had been
talking with high words. Then Sir Robert came straight forward to where
Robin Hood stood, and he spoke to the yeoman in a cold, stern voice.
Quoth he, "Our gracious Sovereign the King hath mitigated his wrath
toward thee, fellow, and hath once more promised that thou shalt depart
in peace and safety. Not only hath he promised this, but in three days
he will send one of his pages to go with thee and see that none arrest
thy journey back again. Thou mayst thank thy patron saint that thou
hast such a good friend in our noble Queen, for, but for her persuasion
and arguments, thou hadst been a dead man, I can tell thee. Let this
peril that thou hast passed through teach thee two lessons. First, be
more honest. Second, be not so bold in thy comings and goings. A man
that walketh in the darkness as thou dost may escape for a time, but in
the end he will surely fall into the pit. Thou hast put thy head in the
angry lion's mouth, and yet thou hast escaped by a miracle. Try it not
again." So saying, he turned and left Robin and was gone.
For three days Robin abided in London in the Queen's household, and at
the end of that time the King's head Page, Edward Cunningham, came, and
taking Robin with him, departed northward upon his way to Sherwood. Now
and then they passed bands of the King's men coming back again to
London, but none of those bands stopped them, and so, at last, they
reached the sweet, leafy woodlands.
Robin Hood and Guy of Gisbourne
A LONG TIME passed after the great shooting match, and during that time
Robin followed one part of the advice of Sir Robert Lee, to wit, that of
being less bold in his comings and his goings; for though mayhap he may
not have been more honest (as most folks regard honesty), he took good
care not to travel so far from Sherwood that he could not reach it both
easily and quickly.
Great changes had fallen in this time; for King Henry had died and King
Richard had come to the crown that fitted him so well through many hard
trials, and through adventures as stirring as any that ever befell Robin
Hood. But though great changes came, they did not reach to Sherwood's
shades, for there Robin Hood and his men dwelled as merrily as they had
ever done, with hunting and feasting and singing and blithe woodland
sports; for it was little the outside striving of the world troubled
them.
The dawning of a summer's day was fresh and bright, and the birds sang
sweetly in a great tumult of sound. So loud was their singing that it
awakened Robin Hood where he lay sleeping, so that he stirred, and
turned, and arose. Up rose Little John also, and all the merry men;
then, after they had broken their fast, they set forth hither and
thither upon the doings of the day.
Robin Hood and Little John walked down a forest path where all around
the leaves danced and twinkled as the breeze trembled through them and
the sunlight came flickering down. Quoth Robin Hood, "I make my vow,
Little John, my blood tickles my veins as it flows through them this gay
morn. What sayst thou to our seeking adventures, each one upon his own
account?"
"With all my heart," said Little John. "We have had more than one
pleasant doing in that way, good master. Here are two paths; take thou
the one to the right hand, and I will take the one to the left, and then
let us each walk straight ahead till he tumble into some merry doing or
other."
"I like thy plan," quoth Robin, "therefore we will part here. But look
thee, Little John, keep thyself out of mischief, for I would not have
ill befall thee for all the world."
"Marry, come up," quoth Little John, "how thou talkest! Methinks thou
art wont to get thyself into tighter coils than I am like to do."
At this Robin Hood laughed. "Why, in sooth, Little John," said he,
"thou hast a blundering hard-headed way that seemeth to bring thee right
side uppermost in all thy troubles; but let us see who cometh out best
this day." So saying, he clapped his palm to Little John's and each
departed upon his way, the trees quickly shutting the one from the
other's sight.
Robin Hood strolled onward till he came to where a broad woodland road
stretched before him. Overhead the branches of the trees laced together
in flickering foliage, all golden where it grew thin to the sunlight;
beneath his feet the ground was soft and moist from the sheltering
shade. Here in this pleasant spot the sharpest adventure that ever
befell Robin Hood came upon him; for, as he walked down the woodland
path thinking of nought but the songs of the birds, he came of a sudden
to where a man was seated upon the mossy roots beneath the shade of a
broad-spreading oak tree. Robin Hood saw that the stranger had not
caught sight of him, so he stopped and stood quite still, looking at the
other a long time before he came forward. And the stranger, I wot, was
well worth looking at, for never had Robin seen a figure like that
sitting beneath the tree. From his head to his feet he was clad in a
horse's hide, dressed with the hair upon it. Upon his head was a cowl
that hid his face from sight, and which was made of the horse's skin,
the ears whereof stuck up like those of a rabbit. His body was clad in
a jacket made of the hide, and his legs were covered with the hairy skin
likewise. By his side was a heavy broadsword and a sharp, double-edged
dagger. A quiver of smooth round arrows hung across his shoulders, and
his stout bow of yew leaned against the tree beside him.
"Halloa, friend," cried Robin, coming forward at last, "who art thou
that sittest there? And what is that that thou hast upon thy body? I
make my vow I ha' never seen such a sight in all my life before. Had I
done an evil thing, or did my conscience trouble me, I would be afraid
of thee, thinking that thou wast someone from down below bringing a
message bidding me come straightway to King Nicholas."
To this speech the other answered not a word, but he pushed the cowl
back from his head and showed a knit brow, a hooked nose, and a pair of
fierce, restless black eyes, which altogether made Robin think of a hawk
as he looked on his face. But beside this there was something about the
lines on the stranger's face, and his thin cruel mouth, and the hard
glare of his eyes, that made one's flesh creep to look upon.
"Who art thou, rascal?" said he at last, in a loud, harsh voice.
"Tut, tut," quoth merry Robin, "speak not so sourly, brother. Hast thou
fed upon vinegar and nettles this morning that thy speech is so
stinging?"
"An thou likest not my words," said the other fiercely, "thou hadst best
be jogging, for I tell thee plainly, my deeds match them."
"Nay, but I do like thy words, thou sweet, pretty thing," quoth Robin,
squatting down upon the grass in front of the other. "Moreover, I tell
thee thy speech is witty and gamesome as any I ever heard in all my
life."
The other said not a word, but he glared upon Robin with a wicked and
baleful look, such as a fierce dog bestows upon a man ere it springs at
his throat. Robin returned the gaze with one of wide-eyed innocence, not
a shadow of a smile twinkling in his eyes or twitching at the corners of
his mouth. So they sat staring at one another for a long time, until the
stranger broke the silence suddenly. "What is thy name, fellow?" said
he.
"Now," quoth Robin, "I am right glad to hear thee speak, for I began to
fear the sight of me had stricken thee dumb. As for my name, it may be
this or it may be that; but methinks it is more meet for thee to tell me
thine, seeing that thou art the greater stranger in these parts.