The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood

kept me so late on the way, otherwise I would have been here an hour
agone."
Then, when he had done speaking, Robin stretched out his hand and
grasped the Knight's palm. Quoth he in a trembling voice, "I owe thee a
debt I can never hope to repay, Sir Richard, for let me tell thee, I would
rather lose my right hand than have such ill befall young David of Don-
caster as seemed like to come upon him at Denby."
So they talked until after a while one came forward to say that the
feast was spread; whereupon all arose and went thereto. When at last it
was done, the Knight called upon his men to bring the pack horses for-
ward, which they did according to his bidding. Then one of the men
brought the Knight a strongbox, which he opened and took from it a bag
and counted out five hundred pounds, the sum he had gotten from
Robin.
"Sir Richard," quoth Robin, "thou wilt pleasure us all if thou wilt keep
that money as a gift from us of Sherwood. Is it not so, my lads?"
Then all shouted "Ay" with a mighty voice.
"I thank you all deeply," said the Knight earnestly, "but think it not ill
of me if I cannot take it. Gladly have I borrowed it from you, but it may
not be that I can take it as a gift."
Then Robin Hood said no more but gave the money to Little John to
put away in the treasury, for he had shrewdness enough to know that
nought breeds ill will and heart bitterness like gifts forced upon one that
cannot choose but take them.
Then Sir Richard had the packs laid upon the ground and opened,
whereupon a great shout went up that made the forest ring again, for lo,
there were tenscore bows of finest Spanish yew, all burnished till they
shone again, and each bow inlaid with fanciful figures in silver, yet not
inlaid so as to mar their strength. Beside these were tenscore quivers of
leather embroidered with golden thread, and in each quiver were a score
of shafts with burnished heads that shone like silver; each shaft was
feathered with peacock's plumes, innocked with silver.
Sir Richard gave to each yeoman a bow and a quiver of arrows, but to
Robin he gave a stout bow inlaid with the cunningest workmanship in
gold, while each arrow in his quiver was innocked with gold.
Then all shouted again for joy of the fair gift, and all swore among
themselves that they would die if need be for Sir Richard and his lady.
At last the time came when Sir Richard must go, whereupon Robin
Hood called his band around him, and each man of the yeomen took a
torch in his hand to light the way through the woodlands. So they came
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to the edge of Sherwood, and there the Knight kissed Robin upon the
cheeks and left him and was gone.
Thus Robin Hood helped a noble knight out of his dire misfortunes,
that else would have smothered the happiness from his life.
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Chapter
16
Little John Turns Barefoot Friar
C
OLD WINTER had passed and spring had come. No leafy thick-
ness had yet clad the woodlands, but the budding leaves hung like
a tender mist about the trees. In the open country the meadow lands lay
a sheeny green, the cornfields a dark velvety color, for they were thick
and soft with the growing blades. The plowboy shouted in the sun, and
in the purple new- turned furrows flocks of birds hunted for fat worms.
All the broad moist earth smiled in the warm light, and each little green
hill clapped its hand for joy.
On a deer's hide, stretched on the ground in the open in front of the
greenwood tree, sat Robin Hood basking in the sun like an old dog fox.
Leaning back with his hands clasped about his knees, he lazily watched
Little John rolling a stout bowstring from long strands of hempen thread,
wetting the palms of his hands ever and anon, and rolling the cord upon
his thigh. Near by sat Allan a Dale fitting a new string to his harp.
Quoth Robin at last, "Methinks I would rather roam this forest in the
gentle springtime than be King of all merry England. What palace in the
broad world is as fair as this sweet woodland just now, and what king in
all the world hath such appetite for plover's eggs and lampreys as I for
juicy venison and sparkling ale? Gaffer Swanthold speaks truly when he
saith, 'Better a crust with content than honey with a sour heart.'"
"Yea," quoth Little John, as he rubbed his new-made bowstring with
yellow beeswax, "the life we lead is the life for me. Thou speakest of the
springtime, but methinks even the winter hath its own joys. Thou and I,
good master, have had more than one merry day, this winter past, at the
Blue Boar. Dost thou not remember that night thou and Will Stutely and
Friar Tuck and I passed at that same hostelry with the two beggars and
the strolling friar?"
"Yea," quoth merry Robin, laughing, "that was the night that Will
Stutely must needs snatch a kiss from the stout hostess, and got a cana-
kin of ale emptied over his head for his pains."
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"Truly, it was the same," said Little John, laughing also. "Methinks that
was a goodly song that the strolling friar sang. Friar Tuck, thou hast a
quick ear for a tune, dost thou not remember it?"
"I did have the catch of it one time," said Tuck. "Let me see," and he
touched his forefinger to his forehead in thought, humming to himself,
and stopping ever and anon to fit what he had got to what he searched
for in his mind. At last he found it all and clearing his throat, sang
merrily:
"In the blossoming hedge the robin cock sings,
For the sun it is merry and bright,
And he joyfully hops and he flutters his wings,
For his heart is all full of delight.
For the May bloometh fair,
And there's little of care,
And plenty to eat in the Maytime rare.
When the flowers all die,
Then off he will fly,
To keep himself warm
In some jolly old barn
Where the snow and the wind neither chill him nor harm.
"And such is the life of the strolling friar,
With aplenty to eat and to drink;
For the goodwife will keep him a seat by the fire,
And the pretty girls smile at his wink.
Then he lustily trolls
As he onward strolls,
A rollicking song for the saving of souls.
When the wind doth blow,
With the coming of snow,
There's a place by the fire
For the fatherly friar,
And a crab in the bowl for his heart's desire."
>
Thus Friar Tuck sang in a rich and mellow voice, rolling his head from
side to side in time with the music, and when he had done, all clapped
their hands and shouted with laughter, for the song fitted him well.
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