by Howard Pyle
The Sheriff of Nottingham meeteth Robin Hood in Guy of Gisbourne’s clothes.
“Why, certes,” quoth he, “yon fellow is the same. Now, Heaven send that he hath slain the master thief, as we will presently slay the man!”
When Little John heard this speech he looked up, and straightway his heart crumbled away within him, for not only were the man’s garments all covered with blood, but he wore Robin Hood’s bugle horn and carried his bow and broadsword in his hand.
“How now!” cried the Sheriff, when Robin Hood, in Guy of Gisbourne’s clothes, had come nigh to them. “What luck hath befallen thee in the forest? Why, man, thy clothes are all over blood!”
“An thou likest not my clothes,” said Robin, in a harsh voice like that of Guy of Gisbourne, “thou mayst shut thine eyes. Marry, the blood upon me is that of the vilest outlaw that ever trod the woodlands, and one whom I have slain this day, albeit not without wound to myself.”
Then out spake Little John, for the first time since he had befallen into the Sheriffs hands. “O thou vile, bloody wretch! I know thee, Guy of Gisbourne, for who is there that hath not heard of thee and cursed thee for thy vile deeds of blood and rapine? Is it by such a hand as thine that the gentlest heart that ever beat is stilled in death? Truly, thou art a fit tool for this coward Sheriff of Nottingham. Now I die joyfully, nor do I care how I die, for life is nought to me!” So spake Little John, the salt tears rolling down his brown cheeks.
But the Sheriff of Nottingham clapped his hands for joy. “Now, Guy of Gisbourne,” cried he, “if what thou tellest me is true, it will be the best day’s doings for thee that ever thou hast done in all thy life.”
“What I have told thee is sooth, and I lie not,” said Robin, still in Guy of Gisbourne’s voice. “Look, is not this Robin Hood’s sword, and is not this his good bow of yew, and is not this his bugle horn? Thinkest thou he would have given them to Guy of Gisbourne of his own free will?”
Then the Sheriff laughed aloud for joy. “This is a good day!” cried he. “The great outlaw dead and his right-hand man in my hands! Ask what thou wilt of me, Guy of Gisbourne, and it is thine!”
“Then this I ask of thee,” said Robin. “As I have slain the master I would now kill the man. Give this fellow’s life into my hands, Sir Sheriff.”
“Now thou art a fool!” cried the Sheriff. “Thou mightst have had money enough for a knight’s ransom if thou hadst asked for it. I like ill to let this fellow pass from my hands, but as I have promised, thou shalt have him.”
The Sheriff giveth Little John into Robin Hood’s hands.
“I thank thee right heartily for thy gift,” cried Robin. “Take the rogue down from the horse, men, and lean him against yonder tree, whilst I show you how we stick a porker whence I come!”
At these words some of the Sheriffs men shook their heads; for, though they cared not a whit whether Little John were hanged or not, they hated to see him butchered in cold blood. But the Sheriff called to them in a loud voice, ordering them to take the yeoman down from the horse and lean him against the tree, as the other bade.
Whilst they were doing this Robin Hood strung both his bow and that of Guy of Gisbourne, albeit none of them took notice of his doing so. Then, when Little John stood against the tree, he drew Guy of Gisbourne’s sharp, double-edged dagger. “Fall back! fall back!” cried he. “Would ye crowd so on my pleasure, ye unmannerly knaves? Back, I say! Farther yet!” So they crowded back, as he ordered, many of them turning their faces away, that they might not see what was about to happen.
“Come!” cried Little John. “Here is my breast. It is meet that the same hand that slew my dear master should butcher me also! I know thee, Guy of Gisbourne!”
Robin Hood sets Little John free.
“Peace, Little John!” said Robin, in a low voice. “Twice thou hast said thou knowest me, and yet thou knowest me not at all. Couldst thou not tell me beneath this wild beast’s hide? Yonder, just in front of thee, lie my bow and arrows, likewise my broadsword. Take them when I cut thy bonds. Now! Get them quickly!” So saying, he cut the bonds, and Little John, quick as a wink, leaped forward and caught up the bow and arrows and the broadsword. At the same time Robin Hood threw back the cowl of horse’s hide from his face and bent Guy of Gisbourne’s bow, with a keen, barbed arrow fitted to the string. ”Stand back!” cried he, sternly. ”The first man that toucheth finger to bowstring dieth! I have slain thy man, Sheriff; take heed that it is not thy turn next.” Then, seeing that Little John had armed himself, he clapped his bugle horn to his lips and blew three blasts both loud and shrill.
The Sheriff escapeth not all free of harm.
Now when the Sheriff of Nottingham saw whose face it was beneath Guy of Gisbourne’s hood, and when he heard those bugle notes ring in his ear, he felt as if his hour had come. “Robin Hood!” roared he, and without another word he wheeled his horse in the road and went off in a cloud of dust. The Sheriffs men, seeing their master thus fleeing for his life, thought that it was not their business to tarry longer, so, clapping spurs to their horses, they also dashed away after him. But though the Sheriff of Nottingham went fast, he could not outstrip a clothyard arrow. Little John twanged his bowstring with a shout, and when the Sheriff dashed in through the gates of Nottingham Town at full speed, a gray goose shaft stuck out behind him like a moulting sparrow with one feather in its tail. For a month afterwards the poor Sheriff could sit upon nought but the softest cushions that could be gotten for him.
Thus the Sheriff and a score of men ran away from Robin Hood and Little John; so that when Will Stutely and a dozen or more of stout yeomen burst from out the covert, they saw nought of their master’s enemies, for the Sheriff and his men were scouring away in the distance, hidden within a cloud of dust like a little thunder-storm.
The widow’s three sons join Robin Hood’s band.
Then they all went back into the forest once more, where they found the widow’s three sons, who ran to Little John and kissed his hands. But it would not do for them to roam the forest at large any more; so they promised that, after they had gone and told their mother of their escape, they would come that night to the greenwood tree, and thenceforth become men of the band.
Thus end the bravest adventures that ever befell Robin Hood and Little John. So next we shall hear how stout King Richard of the Lion’s Heart visited Robin in Sherwood Forest.
II.
King Richard cometh to Sherwood Forest.
Not more than two months had passed and gone since these stirring adventures that have just been told of befell Robin Hood and Little John, when all Nottinghamshire was in a mighty stir and tumult, for King Richard of the Lion’s Heart was making a royal progress through merry England, and every one expected him to come to Nottingham Town in his journeying. Messengers went riding back and forth between the Sheriff and the King, until at last the time was fixed upon when his majesty was to stop in Nottingham, as the guest of his worship.
King Richard of the Lion’s Heart maketh a royal progress through merry England.
The folk of Notrtingham Towm make ready for the King’s coming.
And now came more bustle than ever; a great runing hither and thither, a rapping of hammers and a babble of voices sounded ev erywhere through the place, for the folk were building great arches across the streets, beneath which the King was to pass, and were draping these arches with silken banners and streamers of many colors. Great hubbub was going on in the Guild Hall of the town, also, for here a grand banquet was to be given to the King and the nobles of his train, and the best master carpenters were busy building a throne where the King and the Sheriff were to sit at the head of the table, side by side.
It seemed to many of the good folk of the place as if the day that should bring the King into the town would never come; but all the same it did come in its own season, and bright shone the sun down into the stony streets, which were all alive with a restless sea of people. On either side of the way great crowds of town and c
ountry folk stood packed as close together as dried herring in a box, so that the Sheriffs men, halberds in hands, could hardly press them back to leave space for the King’s riding.
“Take care whom thou pushest against!” cried a great, burly friar to one of these men. “Wouldst thou dig thine elbows into me, sirrah? By ’r Lady of the Fountain, an thou dost not treat me with more deference I will crack thy knave’s pate for thee, even though thou be one of the mighty Sheriffs men.”
A certain fat friar berates one of the Sheriff’s men for pushing him.
At this a great shout of laughter arose from a number of tall yeomen in Lincoln green that were scattered through the crowd thereabouts; but one that seemed of more authority than the others nudged the holy man with his elbow. “Peace, Tuck,” said he; “didst thou not promise me, ere thou camest here, that thou wouldst put a check upon thy tongue?”
“Ay, marry,” grumbled the other, “but I did not think to have a hard-footed knave trample all over my poor toes as though they were no more than so many acorns in the forest.”
But of a sudden all this bickering ceased, for a clear sound of many bugle horns came winding down the street. Then all the people craned their necks and gazed in the direction whence the sound came, and the crowding and the pushing and the swaying grew greater than ever. And now a gallant array of men came gleaming into sight, and the cheering of the people ran down the crowd as the fire runs in dry grass.
Eight and twenty heralds in velvet and cloth of gold
The eight and twenty heralds come a riding.
came riding forwards. Over their heads fluttered a cloud of snow-white feathers, and each herald bore in his hand a long silver trumpet, which he blew musically. From each trumpet hung a heavy banner of velvet and cloth of gold, with the royal arms of England emblazoned thereon. After these came riding fivescore noble knights,
Fivescore knights and their pages follow the heralds.
two by two, all fully armed, saving that their heads were uncovered. In their hands they bore tall lances, from the tops of which fluttered pennons of many colors and devices. By the side of each knight walked a page clad in rich clothes of silk and velvet, and each page bore in his hands his master’s helmet, from which waved long, floating plumes of feathers. Never had Nottingham seen a fairer sight than those fivescore noble knights, from whose armor the sun blazed in dazzling light as they came riding on their great war-horses, with clashing of arms and jingling of chains. Behind the knights came the barons and the nobles of the midcountry, in robes of silk and cloth of gold, with golden chains about their necks and jewels at their girdles. Behind these again came a great array of men-at-arms, with spears and halberds in their hands, and, in the midst of these, two riders side by side. One of the horsemen was the Sheriff of Nottingham in his robes of office. The other, who was a head taller than the Sheriff, was clad in a rich but simple garb, with a broad, heavy chain about his neck. His hair and beard were like threads of gold, and his eyes were as blue as the summer sky. As he rode along he bowed to the right hand and the left, and a mighty roar of voices followed him as he passed; for this was King Richard.
The barons and the nobles of the midcountry come riding behind the knights.
Then, above all the tumult and the shouting a great voice was heard roaring, “Heaven, its saints bless thee, our gracious King Richard! and likewise Our Lady of the Fountain, bless thee!” Then King Richard, looking toward the spot whence the sound came, saw a tall, burly, strapping priest standing in front of all the crowd with his legs wide apart as he backed against those behind.
The Sheriff and King come riding in the midst of many men-at-arms.
“By my soul, Sheriff,” said the King, laughing, “ye have the tallest priests in Nottinghamshire that e’er I saw in all my life. If Heaven never answered prayers because of deafness, methinks I would nevertheless have blessings bestowed upon me, for that man yonder would make the great stone image of Saint Peter rub its ears and hearken unto him. I would that I had an army of such as he.”
To this the Sheriff answered never a word, but all the blood left his cheeks, and he caught at the pommel of his saddle to keep himself from falling; for he also saw the fellow that so shouted, and knew him to be Friar Tuck; and, moreover, behind Friar Tuck he saw the faces of Robin Hood and Little John and Will Scarlet and Will Stutely and Allan a Dale and others of the band.
The Sheriff seeth Robin Hood and his band amid the crowd.
“How now,” said the King hastily, “art thou ill, Sheriff, that thou growest so white?”
“Nay, your majesty,” said the Sheriff, “it was nought but a sudden pain that will soon pass by.” Thus he spake, for he was ashamed that the King should know that Robin Hood feared him so little that he thus dared to come within the very gates of Nottingham Town.
Thus rode the King into Nottingham Town on that bright afternoon in the early fall season; and none rejoiced more than Robin Hood and his merry men to see him come so royally unto his own.
Eventide had come; the great feast in the Guild Hall at Nottingham Town was done, and the wine passed freely. A thousand waxen lights gleamed along the board, at which sat lord and noble and knight and squire in goodly array. At the head of the table, upon a throne all hung with cloth of gold, sat King Richard with the Sheriff of Nottingham beside him.
The King asketh the Sheriff about Robin Hood.
Quoth the King to the Sheriff, laughing as he spoke, “I have heard much spoken concerning the doings of certain fellows hereabouts, one Robin Hood and his band, who are outlaws and abide in Sherwood Forest. Canst thou not tell me somewhat of them, Sir Sheriff? for I hear that thou hast had dealings with them more than once.”
At these words the Sheriff of Nottingham looked down gloomily, and the Bishop of Hereford, who was present, gnawed his nether lip. Quoth the Sheriff, “I can tell your majesty but little concerning the doings of those naughty fellows, saving that they are the boldest law-breakers in all the land.”
Then up spake young Sir Henry of the Lea, a great favorite with the King, under whom he had fought in Palestine. “May it please your majesty,” said he, “when I was away in Palestine I heard ofttimes from my father, and in most cases I heard of this very fellow, Robin Hood. If your majesty would like I will tell you a certain adventure of this outlaw.”
Sir Henry of the Lea telleth his father’s story.
Then the King laughingly bade him tell his tale, whereupon he told how Robin Hood had aided Sir Richard of the Lea with money that he had borrowed from the Bishop of Hereford. Again and again the King and those present roared with laughter, whilst the poor Bishop waxed cherry red in the face with vexation, for the matter was a sore thing with him. When Sir Henry of the Lea was done, others of those present, seeing how the King enjoyed this merry tale, told other tales concerning Robin and his merry men.
“By the hilt of my sword,” said stout King Richard, “this is as bold and merry a knave as ever I heard tell of. Marry, I must take this matter in hand and do what thou couldst not do, Sheriff, to wit, clear the forest of him and his band.”
That night the King sat in the place that was set apart for his lodging whilst in Nottingham Town. With him were young Sir Henry of the Lea and two other knights and three barons of Nottinghamshire; but the King’s mind still dwelt upon Robin Hood. “Now,” quoth he, “I would freely give a hundred pounds to meet this roguish fellow, Robin Hood, and to see somewhat of his doings in Sherwood Forest.”
Then up spake Sir Hubert of Bingham, laughing: “If your majesty hath such a desire upon you it is not so hard to satisfy. If your majesty is willing to lose one hundred pounds, I will engage to cause you not only to meet this fellow, but to feast with him in Sherwood.”
“Marry, Sir Hubert,” quoth the King, “this pleaseth me well. But how wilt thou cause me to meet Robin Hood?”
“Why, thus,” said Sir Hubert; “let your majesty and us here present put on the robes of seven of the Order of Black Friars, and let you
r majesty hang a purse of one hundred pounds beneath your gown; then let us undertake to ride from here to Mansfield Town tomorrow, and, without I am much mistaken, we will both meet with Robin Hood and dine with him before the day be passed.”.
Sir Hubert of Bingham telleth the King how he may meet Robin Hood.
“I like thy plan, Sir Hubert,” quoth the King merrily, “and to-morrow we will try it and see whether there be virtue in it.”
So it happened that when early the next morning the Sheriff came to where his liege lord was abiding to pay his duty to him, the King told him what they had talked of the night before, and what merry adventure they were set upon undertaking that morning. But when the Sheriff heard this he smote his forehead with his fist. “Alas!” said he, “what evil counsel is this that hath been given thee! 0 my gracious lord and king, you know not what you do! This villain that you thus go to seek hath no reverence either for king or king’s laws.”
“But did I not hear aright when I was told that this Robin Hood hath shed no blood since he was outlawed, saving only that of that vile Guy of Gisbourne, for whose death all honest men should thank him?”
“Yea, your majesty,” said the Sheriff, “you have heard aright. Nevertheless”—
“Then,” quoth the King, breaking in on the Sheriffs speech, “what have I to fear in meeting him, having done him no harm? Truly, there is no danger in this. But mayhap thou wilt go with us, Sir Sheriff.”
“Nay,” quoth the Sheriff hastily, “Heaven forbid!”