by Howard Pyle
“Ay, truly it was the same,” said the Bishop; “a naughty fellow, I wot.”
“And didst thou, Little John,” said Robin, in a sad voice, “call his lordship a fat priest?”
Robin Hood pretends to take Little John to task.
“Ay,” said Little John, sorrowfully.
“And a man-eating bishop?”
“Ay,” said Little John, more sorrowfully than before.
“And a money-gorging usurer?”
“Ay,” said Little John, in so sorrowful a voice that it might have drawn tears from the Dragon of Wentley.
“Alas, that these things should be!” said jolly Robin, turning to the Bishop, “for I have ever found Little John a truthful man.”
At this a roar of laughter went up, whereat the blood rushed into the Bishop’s face till it was cherry red from crown to chin; but he said nothing, and only swallowed his words, though they well-nigh choked him.
“Nay, my Lord Bishop,” said Robin, “we are rough fellows, but I trust not such ill men as thou thinkest, after all. There is not a man here that would harm a hair of thy reverence’s head. I know thou art galled by our jesting, but we are all equal here in the greenwood, for there are no bishops nor barons nor earls among us, but only men, so thou must share our life with us whilst thou dost abide here. Come, busk ye, my merry men, and get the feast ready. Meantime we will show our guests our woodland sports.”
So, whilst some went to kindle the fires for roasting meats, others ran leaping to get their cudgels and long bows. Then Robin brought forward Sir Richard o’ the Lea. “My Lord Bishop,” said he, “here is another guest that we have with us this day. I wish that thou mightst know him better, for I and all my men will strive to honor you both at this merrymaking.”
“Sir Richard,” said the Bishop, in a reproachful tone, “methinks thou and I are companions and fellow sufferers in this den of—” He was about to say “thieves,” but he stopped suddenly and looked askance at Robin Hood.
“Speak out, Bishop,” quoth Robin, laughing. “We of Sherwood check not an easy flow of words. ‘Den of thieves’ thou wast about to say.”
The Bishop of Hereford reproaches Sir Richard of the Lea.
Quoth the Bishop, “Mayhap that was what I meant to say, Sir Richard; but this I will say, that I saw thee just now laugh at the scurrilous jests of these fellows. It would have been more becoming of thee, methinks, to have checked them with frowns instead of spurring them on by laughter.”
“I meant no harm to thee,” said Sir Richard; “but a merry jest is a merry jest, and I may truly say I would have laughed at it had it been against mine own self.”
But now Robin Hood called upon certain ones of his band who spread soft moss upon the ground and laid deer skins thereon. Then Robin bade his guests be seated, and so they all three sat down, some of the chief men, such as Little John, Will Scarlet, Allan a Dale, and others, stretching themselves upon the ground near by. Then a garland was set up at the far end of the glade, and thereat the bowmen shot, and such shooting was done that day as it would have made one’s heart leap to see. And all the while Robin talked so quaintly to the Bishop and the Knight that, the one forgetting his vexation and the other his troubles, they both laughed aloud again and again.
The yeomen shoot before the Bishop of Hereford and Sir Richard of the Lea.
Then men shot three rounds of arrows each, and although the garland was but three palms’ breadth wide, and was full sevenscore yards distant, only two arrows went without the ring. “By Our Lady, good friend,” said the Bishop to Robin, “never did I see such shooting in all my life as these men of thine do. But I have heard so oft of thy skill, canst thou not show us a touch of it?”
“Why,” quoth Robin, “the light groweth somewhat dim, and things begin to glimmer, ne’ertheless I will try what I can do.” So saying he arose from where he sat, then, drawing his dagger, he cut a hazel wand a little greater in girth than a man’s thumb, and peeling the bark therefrom, he walked with measured steps fourscore yards distance. There he thrust the staff into the ground and came back to where the others sat, and Allan a Dale handed him his good stout yew bow, which Robin forthwith strung. Then emptying his quiver upon the ground, he searched among the arrows carefully till he had chosen one to his liking. Having so done, he nocked the arrow and stood in position, and all around was so hushed that you might have heard the falling of a leaf. Then he drew the string quickly to his ear, and straightened his bow arm, and ere you could draw a breath loosed the string with a twang. So swift flew the arrow that the eye could not follow it, but a great shout went up from the yeomen when it had sped, and Will Scathelock ran leaping and brought the wand, and lo, the arrow was sticking in the wood which it had cleft. Then all the yeomen shouted again till those about the fires came running, for they were proud of their master’s skill, which none could hope to match.
Robin Hood shoots before the Bishop and the Knight.
But meantime Robin had set him down again between his guests; then, without giving them time for word of praise, he called upon those of his band who were the most deft at quarterstaff. So they sat and watched the game till the shades of evening fell, and there was no light in which to give stroke or parry.
Robin Hood cleaves the wand.
Then Allan a Dale came forth and tuned his harp, and all was hushed around, and he sang Allan a Dale in his wonderous voice songs of love, of sings before the war, of glory, and of sadness, and all lis- guests. tened without a movement or a sound. So Allan sang till the great round silver moon gleamed with its clear white light amid the upper tangle of the mazy branches of the trees.
At last two fellows came to say that the feast was ready spread, so Robin, leading his guests with either hand, brought them to where great smoking dishes, that sent savory smells far and near, stood along the white linen cloth spread on the grass. All around was a glare of torches that lit everything up with a red light. Then, straightway sitting down, all fell to with noise and hubbub, the rattling of platters blending with the sound of loud talking and laughter. A long time the feast lasted, but at last all was over, and the bright wine and humming ale passed briskly. Then Robin Hood called aloud for silence, and all was hushed till he spoke.
Robin Hood feasts the Bishop of Hereford and Sir Richard of the Lea.
“I have a story to tell you all, so listen to what I have to say,” quoth he; whereupon, without more ado, he told them all about Sir Richard, and how his lands were in pawn. But, as he went on, the Bishop’s face, that had erst been smiling and ruddy with merriment, waxed serious, and he put aside the horn of wine he held in his hand, for he knew the story of Sir Richard, and his heart sank within him with grim forebodings. Then, when Robin Hood had done, he turned to the Bishop of Hereford. “Now, my Lord Bishop,” said he, “dost thou not think this is ill done of any one, much more of a churchman, who should live in humbleness and charity?”
Robin Hood tellelh the story of Sir Richard of the Lea.
To this the Bishop answered not a word, but looked upon the ground with moody eyes.
Quoth Robin, “Now, thou art the richest bishop in all England; canst thou not help this needy brother?” But still the Bishop answered not a word.
Robin Hood asketh the Bishop to aid the Knight.
Then Robin turned to Little John, and quoth he, “Go thou and Will Stutely and bring forth those five pack-horses yonder.” Whereupon the two yeomen did as they were bidden, those about the cloth making room on the green, where the light was brightest, for the five horses which Little John and Will Stutely presently led forward.
“Who hath the score of the goods?” asked Robin Hood, looking at the Black Friars.
Then up spake the smallest of all, in a trembling voice,—an old man he was, with a gentle, wrinkled face. “That have I; but, I pray thee, harm me not.”
Robin Hood orders the Bishop’s pack-horses to be brought forth.
“Nay,” quoth Robin, “I have never harmed harmless m
an yet; but give it to me, good father.” So the old man did as he was bidden, and handed Robin the tablet on which was marked down the account of the various packages upon the horses. This Robin handed to Will Scarlet, bidding him to read the same. So Will Scarlet, lifting his voice that all might hear, began:—
Robin Hood divides the goods to the best of his power.
“Three bales of silk to Quentin, the mercer at Ancaster.”
“That we touch not,” quoth Robin, “for this Quentin is an honest fellow, who hath risen by his own thrift.” So the bales of silk were laid aside without being opened.
“One bale of silk velvet for the Abbey of Beaumont.”
“What do these priests want of silk velvet?” quoth Robin. “Nevertheless, though they need it not, I will not take all from them. Measure it off into three lots, one to be sold for charity, one for us, and one for the abbey.” So this, too, was done as Robin Hood bade.
“Twoscore of great wax candles for the Chapel of Saint Thomas.”
“That belongeth fairly to the chapel,” quoth Robin, “so lay it to one side. Far be it from us to take from the blessed Saint Thomas that which belongeth to him.” So this, also, was done according to Robin’s bidding, and the candles were laid to one side, along with honest Quentin’s unopened bales of silk. So the list was gone through with, and the goods adjudged according to what Robin thought most fit. Some things were laid aside untouched, and many were opened and divided into three equal parts, for charity, for themselves, and for the owners. And now all the ground in the torchlight was covered over with silks and velvets and cloths of gold and cases of rich wines, and so they came to the last line upon the tablet,—
“A box belonging to the Lord Bishop of Hereford.”
At these words the Bishop shook as with a chill, and the box was set upon the ground.
“My Lord Bishop, hast thou the key of this box?” asked Robin.
The Bishop shook his head.
“Go, Will Scarlet,” said Robin, “thou art the strongest man here—bring a sword straightway, and cut this box open, if thou canst.” Then up rose Will Scarlet and left them, coming back in a short time, bearing a great two-handed sword. Thrice he smote that strong, iron-bound box, and at the third blow it burst open and a great heap of gold came rolling forth, gleaming red in the light of the torches. At this sight a murmur went all around among the band, like the sound of the wind in distant trees; but no man came forward nor touched the money.
Will Scarlet openeth the Bishop’s strong box.
Quoth Robin, “Thou, Will Scarlet, thou, Allan a Dale, and thou, Little John, count it over.”
A long time it took to count all the money, and when it had been duly scored up, Will Scarlet called out that there were fifteen hundred golden pounds in all. But in among the gold they found a paper, and this Will Scarlet read in a loud voice, and all heard that this money was the rental and fines and forfeits from certain estates belonging to the Bishopric of Hereford.
“My Lord Bishop,” said Robin Hood, “I will not strip thee, as Little John said, like a winter hedge, for thou shalt take back one third of thy money. One third of it thou canst well spare to us for thy entertainment and that of thy train, for thou art very rich; one third of it thou canst better spare for charity, for Bishop, I hear that thou art a hard master to those beneath thee and a close hoarder of gains that thou couldst better and with more credit to thyself give to charity than spend upon thy own likings.”
Robin Hood divides the money.
At this the Bishop looked up, but he could say never a word; yet he was thankful to keep some of his wealth.
Then Robin turned to Sir Richard of the Lea, and quoth he, “Now, Sir Richard, the church seemed like to despoil thee, therefore some of the overplus of church gains may well be used in aiding thee. Thou shalt take that five hundred pounds laid aside for people more in need than the Bishop is, and shalt pay thy debts to Emmet therewith.”
Robin Hood offers aid to Sir Richard of the Lea.
Sir Richard looked at Robin until something arose in his eyes that made all the lights and the faces blur together. At last he said, “I thank thee, friend, from my heart, for what thou doest for me; yet think not ill if I cannot take thy gift freely. But this I will do: I will take the money and pay my debts, and in a year and a day hence will return it safe either to thee or to the Lord Bishop of Hereford. For this I pledge my most solemn knightly word. I feel free to borrow, for I know no man that should be more bound to aid me than one so high in that church that hath driven such a hard bargain with me.”
“Truly, Sir Knight,” quoth Robin, “I do not understand those fine scruples that weigh with those of thy kind; but, nevertheless, it shall all be as thou dost wish. But thou hadst best bring the money to me at the end of the year, for mayhap I may make better use of it than the Bishop.” Thereupon, turning to those near him, he gave his orders, and five hundred pounds were counted out and tied up in a leathern bag for Sir Richard. The rest of the treasure was divided, and part taken to the treasure-house of the band, and part put by with the other things for the Bishop.
Then Sir Richard arose. “I cannot stay later, good friends,” said he, “for my lady will wax anxious if I come not home; so I crave leave to depart.”
Then Robin Hood and all his merry men arose, and Robin said, “We cannot let thee go hence unattended, Sir Richard.”
Then up spake Little John: “Good master, let me choose a score of stout fellows from the band, and let us arm ourselves in a seemly manner, and so serve as retainers to Sir Richard till he can get others in our stead.”
“Thou hast spoken well, Little John, and it shall be done,” said Robin.
Little John offers to go with a band as attendants upon Sir Richard of the Lea.
Then up spake Will Scarlet: “Let us give him a golden chain to hang about his neck, such as befits one of his blood, and also golden spurs to wear at his heels.”
Then Robin Hood said, “Thou hast spoken well, Will Scarlet, and it shall be done.”
Will Scarlet beggeth a chain of gold and spurs of gold for the Knight.
Then up spake Will Stutely: “Let us give him yon bale of rich velvet and yon roll of cloth of gold to take home to his noble lady wife as a present from Robin Hood and his merry men all.”
Will Stutely proposeth that they send certain goods as a present to Lady Lea.
At this all clapped their hands for joy, and Robin said: “Thou hast well spoken, Will Stutely, and it shall be done.”
Then Sir Richard o’ the Lea looked all around and strove to speak, but could scarcely do so for the feelings that choked him; at last he said in a husky, trembling voice, “Ye shall all see, good friends, that Sir Richard o’ the Lea will ever remember your kindness this day. And if ye be at any time in dire need or trouble, come to me and my lady, and the walls of Castle Lea shall be battered down ere harm shall befall you. I—” He could say nothing further, but turned hastily away.
But now Little John and nineteen stout fellows, whom he had chosen for his band, came forth all ready for the journey. Each man wore upon his breast a coat of linked mail, and on his head a cap of steel, and at his side a good stout sword. A gallant show they made as they stood all in a row. Then Robin came and threw a chain of gold about Sir Richard’s neck, and Will Scarlet knelt and buckled the golden spurs upon his heel; and now Little John led forward Sir Richard’s horse, and the Knight mounted. He looked down at Robin for a little time, then of a sudden stooped and kissed his cheek. All the forest glades rang with the shout that went up as the Knight and the yeomen marched off through the woodland with glare of torches and gleam of steel, and so were gone.
Sir Richard taketh leave of Sherwood.
Then up spake the Bishop of Hereford in a mournful voice: “I, too, must be jogging, good fellow, for the night waxes late.”
But Robin laid his hand upon the Bishop’s arm and stayed him. “Be not so hasty, Lord Bishop,” said he. “Three days hence Sir Richard
must pay his debts to Emmet; until that time thou must be content to abide with me lest thou breed trouble for the Knight. I promise thee that thou shalt have great sport, for I know that thou art fond of hunting the dun deer. Lay by thy mantle of melancholy, and strive to lead a joyous yeoman life for three stout days. I promise thee thou shalt be sorry to go when the time has come.”
Robin Hood constrains the Bishop of Hereford to abide with him in the greenwood.
So the Bishop and his train abided with Robin for three days, and much sport his lordship had in that time, so that, as Robin had said, when the time had come for him to go he was sorry to leave the greenwood. At the end of three days Robin set him free, and sent him forth from the forest with a guard of yeomen to keep freebooters from taking what was left of the packs and bundles.
But, as the Bishop rode away, he vowed within himself that he would sometime make Robin rue the day that he stopped him in Sherwood.
But now we shall follow Sir Richard; so listen, and you shall hear what befell him, and how he paid his debts at Emmet Priory, and likewise in due season to Robin Hood.
II.
How Sir Richard of the Lea paid his Debts to Emmet.
THE long highway stretched straight on, gray and dusty in the sun. On either side were dykes full of water bordered by osiers, and far away in the distance stood the towers of Emmet Priory with tall poplar trees around.