The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood
'A hasty man burneth his mouth, and the fool that keepeth his eyes shut
falleth into the pit'? Thus he says, truly, therefore we must meet guile
with guile. Now some of you clothe yourselves as curtal friars, and
some as rustic peasants, and some as tinkers, or as beggars, but see
that each man taketh a good bow or broadsword, in case need should
arise. As for myself, I will shoot for this same golden arrow, and
should I win it, we will hang it to the branches of our good greenwood
tree for the joy of all the band. How like you the plan, my merry men
all?"
Then "Good, good!" cried all the band right heartily.
A fair sight was Nottingham Town on the day of the shooting match. All
along upon the green meadow beneath the town wall stretched a row of
benches, one above the other, which were for knight and lady, squire and
dame, and rich burghers and their wives; for none but those of rank and
quality were to sit there. At the end of the range, near the target, was
a raised seat bedecked with ribbons and scarfs and garlands of flowers,
for the Sheriff of Nottingham and his dame. The range was twoscore
paces broad. At one end stood the target, at the other a tent of striped
canvas, from the pole of which fluttered many-colored flags and
streamers. In this booth were casks of ale, free to be broached by any
of the archers who might wish to quench their thirst.
Across the range from where the seats for the better folk were raised
was a railing to keep the poorer people from crowding in front of the
target. Already, while it was early, the benches were beginning to fill
with people of quality, who kept constantly arriving in little carts or
upon palfreys that curveted gaily to the merry tinkle of silver bells at
bridle reins. With these came also the poorer folk, who sat or lay upon
the green grass near the railing that kept them from off the range. In
the great tent the archers were gathering by twos and threes; some
talking loudly of the fair shots each man had made in his day; some
looking well to their bows, drawing a string betwixt the fingers to see
that there was no fray upon it, or inspecting arrows, shutting one eye
and peering down a shaft to see that it was not warped, but straight and
true, for neither bow nor shaft should fail at such a time and for such
a prize. And never was such a company of yeomen as were gathered at
Nottingham Town that day, for the very best archers of merry England had
come to this shooting match. There was Gill o' the Red Cap, the
Sheriff's own head archer, and Diccon Cruikshank of Lincoln Town, and
Adam o' the Dell, a man of Tamworth, of threescore years and more, yet
hale and lusty still, who in his time had shot in the famous match at
Woodstock, and had there beaten that renowned archer, Clym o' the
Clough. And many more famous men of the longbow were there, whose names
have been handed down to us in goodly ballads of the olden time.
But now all the benches were filled with guests, lord and lady, burgher
and dame, when at last the Sheriff himself came with his lady, he riding
with stately mien upon his milk-white horse and she upon her brown
filly. Upon his head he wore a purple velvet cap, and purple velvet was
his robe, all trimmed about with rich ermine; his jerkin and hose were
of sea-green silk, and his shoes of black velvet, the pointed toes
fastened to his garters with golden chains. A golden chain hung about
his neck, and at his collar was a great carbuncle set in red gold. His
lady was dressed in blue velvet, all trimmed with swan's down. So they
made a gallant sight as they rode along side by side, and all the people
shouted from where they crowded across the space from the gentlefolk; so
the Sheriff and his lady came to their place, where men-at-arms, with
hauberk and spear, stood about, waiting for them.
Then when the Sheriff and his dame had sat down, he bade his herald wind
upon his silver horn; who thereupon sounded three blasts that came
echoing cheerily back from the gray walls of Nottingham. Then the
archers stepped forth to their places, while all the folks shouted with
a mighty voice, each man calling upon his favorite yeoman. "Red Cap!"
cried some; "Cruikshank!" cried others; "Hey for William o' Leslie!"
shouted others yet again; while ladies waved silken scarfs to urge each
yeoman to do his best.
Then the herald stood forth and loudly proclaimed the rules of the game
as follows:
"Shoot each man from yon mark, which is sevenscore yards and ten from
the target. One arrow shooteth each man first, and from all the archers
shall the ten that shooteth the fairest shafts be chosen for to shoot
again. Two arrows shooteth each man of these ten, then shall the three
that shoot the fairest shafts be chosen for to shoot again. Three
arrows shooteth each man of those three, and to him that shooteth the
fairest shafts shall the prize be given."
Then the Sheriff leaned forward, looking keenly among the press of
archers to find whether Robin Hood was among them; but no one was there
clad in Lincoln green, such as was worn by Robin and his band.
"Nevertheless," said the Sheriff to himself, "he may still be there, and
I miss him among the crowd of other men. But let me see when but ten men
shoot, for I wot he will be among the ten, or I know him not."
And now the archers shot, each man in turn, and the good folk never saw
such archery as was done that day. Six arrows were within the clout,
four within the black, and only two smote the outer ring; so that when
the last arrow sped and struck the target, all the people shouted aloud,
for it was noble shooting.
And now but ten men were left of all those that had shot before, and of
these ten, six were famous throughout the land, and most of the folk
gathered there knew them. These six men were Gilbert o' the Red Cap,
Adam o' the Dell, Diccon Cruikshank, William o' Leslie, Hubert o' Cloud,
and Swithin o' Hertford. Two others were yeomen of merry Yorkshire,
another was a tall stranger in blue, who said he came from London Town,
and the last was a tattered stranger in scarlet, who wore a patch over
one eye.
"Now," quoth the Sheriff to a man-at-arms who stood near him, "seest
thou Robin Hood among those ten?"
"Nay, that do I not, Your Worship," answered the man. "Six of them I
know right well. Of those Yorkshire yeomen, one is too tall and the
other too short for that bold knave. Robin's beard is as yellow as gold,
while yon tattered beggar in scarlet hath a beard of brown, besides
being blind of one eye. As for the stranger in blue, Robin's shoulders,
I ween, are three inches broader than his."
"Then," quoth the Sheriff, smiting his thigh angrily, "yon knave is a
coward as well as a rogue, and dares not show his face among good men
and true."
Then, after they had rested a short time, those ten stout men stepped
forth to shoot again. Each man shot two arrows, and as they shot, not a
word was spoken, but all the crowd watched with scarce a breath of
sound; but when the last had shot his arrow another great shout arose,
while many cast their caps aloft for joy of such marvelous shooting.
"Now by our gracious Lady fair," quoth old Sir Amyas o' the Dell, who,
bowed with fourscore years and more, sat near the Sheriff, "ne'er saw I
such archery in all my life before, yet have I seen the best hands at
the longbow for threescore years and more."
And now but three men were left of all those that had shot before. One
was Gill o' the Red Cap, one the tattered stranger in scarlet, and one
Adam o' the Dell of Tamworth Town. Then all the people called aloud,
some crying, "Ho for Gilbert o' the Red Cap!" and some, "Hey for stout
Adam o' Tamworth!" But not a single man in the crowd called upon the
stranger in scarlet.
"Now, shoot thou well, Gilbert," cried the Sheriff, "and if thine be the
best shaft, fivescore broad silver pennies will I give to thee beside
the prize."
"Truly I will do my best," quoth Gilbert right sturdily. "A man cannot
do aught but his best, but that will I strive to do this day." So
saying, he drew forth a fair smooth arrow with a broad feather and
fitted it deftly to the string, then drawing his bow with care he sped
the shaft. Straight flew the arrow and lit fairly in the clout, a
finger's-breadth from the center. "A Gilbert, a Gilbert!" shouted all
the crowd; and, "Now, by my faith," cried the Sheriff, smiting his hands
together, "that is a shrewd shot."
Then the tattered stranger stepped forth, and all the people laughed as
they saw a yellow patch that showed beneath his arm when he raised his
elbow to shoot, and also to see him aim with but one eye. He drew the
good yew bow quickly, and quickly loosed a shaft; so short was the time
that no man could draw a breath betwixt the drawing and the shooting;
yet his arrow lodged nearer the center than the other by twice the
length of a barleycorn.
"Now by all the saints in Paradise!" cried the Sheriff, "that is a
lovely shaft in very truth!"
Then Adam o' the Dell shot, carefully and cautiously, and his arrow
lodged close beside the stranger's. Then after a short space they all
three shot again, and once more each arrow lodged within the clout, but
this time Adam o' the Dell's was farthest from the center, and again the
tattered stranger's shot was the best. Then, after another time of
rest, they all shot for the third time. This time Gilbert took great
heed to his aim, keenly measuring the distance and shooting with
shrewdest care. Straight flew the arrow, and all shouted till the very
flags that waved in the breeze shook with the sound, and the rooks and
daws flew clamoring about the roofs of the old gray tower, for the shaft
had lodged close beside the spot that marked the very center.
"Well done, Gilbert!" cried the Sheriff right joyously. "Fain am I to
believe the prize is thine, and right fairly won. Now, thou ragged
knave, let me see thee shoot a better shaft than that."
Nought spake the stranger but took his place, while all was hushed, and
no one spoke or even seemed to breathe, so great was the silence for
wonder what he would do. Meanwhile, also, quite still stood the
stranger, holding his bow in his hand, while one could count five; then
he drew his trusty yew, holding it drawn but a moment, then loosed the
string. Straight flew the arrow, and so true that it smote a gray goose
feather from off Gilbert's shaft, which fell fluttering through the
sunlit air as the stranger's arrow lodged close beside his of the Red
Cap, and in the very center. No one spoke a word for a while and no one
shouted, but each man looked into his neighbor's face amazedly.
"Nay," quoth old Adam o' the Dell presently, drawing a long breath and
shaking his head as he spoke, "twoscore years and more have I shot
shaft, and maybe not all times bad, but I shoot no more this day, for no
man can match with yon stranger, whosoe'er he may be." Then he thrust
his shaft into his quiver, rattling, and unstrung his bow without
another word.
Then the Sheriff came down from his dais and drew near, in all his silks
and velvets, to where the tattered stranger stood leaning upon his stout
bow, while the good folk crowded around to see the man who shot so
wondrously well. "Here, good fellow," quoth the Sheriff, "take thou the
prize, and well and fairly hast thou won it, I bow. What may be thy
name, and whence comest thou?"
"Men do call me Jock o' Teviotdale, and thence am I come," said the
stranger.
"Then, by Our Lady, Jock, thou art the fairest archer that e'er mine
eyes beheld, and if thou wilt join my service I will clothe thee with a
better coat than that thou hast upon thy back; thou shalt eat and drink
of the best, and at every Christmastide fourscore marks shall be thy