<SPAN name="2H_4_0010"></SPAN>
<h2> Robin Hood and Will Scarlet </h2>
<p>THUS THEY traveled along the sunny road, three stout fellows such as you
could hardly match anywhere else in all merry England. Many stopped to
gaze after them as they strode along, so broad were their shoulders and
so sturdy their gait.</p>
<p>Quoth Robin Hood to Little John, "Why didst thou not go straight to
Ancaster, yesterday, as I told thee? Thou hadst not gotten thyself into
such a coil hadst thou done as I ordered."</p>
<p>"I feared the rain that threatened," said Little John in a sullen tone,
for he was vexed at being so chaffed by Robin with what had happened to
him.</p>
<p>"The rain!" cried Robin, stopping of a sudden in the middle of the road,
and looking at Little John in wonder. "Why, thou great oaf! not a drop
of rain has fallen these three days, neither has any threatened, nor
hath there been a sign of foul weather in earth or sky or water."</p>
<p>"Nevertheless," growled Little John, "the holy Saint Swithin holdeth the
waters of the heavens in his pewter pot, and he could have poured them
out, had he chosen, even from a clear sky; and wouldst thou have had me
wet to the skin?"</p>
<p>At this Robin Hood burst into a roar of laughter. "O Little John!" said
he, "what butter wits hast thou in that head of thine! Who could hold
anger against such a one as thou art?"</p>
<p>So saying, they all stepped out once more, with the right foot foremost,
as the saying is.</p>
<p>After they had traveled some distance, the day being warm and the road
dusty, Robin Hood waxed thirsty; so, there being a fountain of water as
cold as ice, just behind the hedgerow, they crossed the stile and came
to where the water bubbled up from beneath a mossy stone. Here, kneeling
and making cups of the palms of their hands, they drank their fill,
and then, the spot being cool and shady, they stretched their limbs and
rested them for a space.</p>
<p>In front of them, over beyond the hedge, the dusty road stretched away
across the plain; behind them the meadow lands and bright green fields
of tender young corn lay broadly in the sun, and overhead spread the
shade of the cool, rustling leaves of the beechen tree. Pleasantly to
their nostrils came the tender fragrance of the purple violets and
wild thyme that grew within the dewy moisture of the edge of the little
fountain, and pleasantly came the soft gurgle of the water. All was so
pleasant and so full of the gentle joy of the bright Maytime, that for a
long time no one of the three cared to speak, but each lay on his back,
gazing up through the trembling leaves of the trees to the bright
sky overhead. At last, Robin, whose thoughts were not quite so busy
wool-gathering as those of the others, and who had been gazing around
him now and then, broke the silence.</p>
<p>"Heyday!" quoth he, "yon is a gaily feathered bird, I take my vow."</p>
<p>The others looked and saw a young man walking slowly down the highway.
Gay was he, indeed, as Robin had said, and a fine figure he cut, for
his doublet was of scarlet silk and his stockings also; a handsome sword
hung by his side, the embossed leathern scabbard being picked out with
fine threads of gold; his cap was of scarlet velvet, and a broad feather
hung down behind and back of one ear. His hair was long and yellow and
curled upon his shoulders, and in his hand he bore an early rose, which
he smelled at daintily now and then.</p>
<p>"By my life!" quoth Robin Hood, laughing, "saw ye e'er such a pretty,
mincing fellow?"</p>
<p>"Truly, his clothes have overmuch prettiness for my taste," quoth Arthur
a Bland, "but, ne'ertheless, his shoulders are broad and his loins are
narrow, and seest thou, good master, how that his arms hang from his
body? They dangle not down like spindles, but hang stiff and bend at
the elbow. I take my vow, there be no bread and milk limbs in those fine
clothes, but stiff joints and tough thews."</p>
<p>"Methinks thou art right, friend Arthur," said Little John. "I do verily
think that yon is no such roseleaf and whipped-cream gallant as he would
have one take him to be."</p>
<p>"Pah!" quoth Robin Hood, "the sight of such a fellow doth put a nasty
taste into my mouth! Look how he doth hold that fair flower betwixt his
thumb and finger, as he would say, 'Good rose, I like thee not so ill
but I can bear thy odor for a little while.' I take it ye are both
wrong, and verily believe that were a furious mouse to run across his
path, he would cry, 'La!' or 'Alack-a-day!' and fall straightway into a
swoon. I wonder who he may be."</p>
<p>"Some great baron's son, I doubt not," answered Little John, "with good
and true men's money lining his purse."</p>
<p>"Ay, marry, that is true, I make no doubt," quoth Robin. "What a pity
that such men as he, that have no thought but to go abroad in gay
clothes, should have good fellows, whose shoes they are not fit to tie,
dancing at their bidding. By Saint Dunstan, Saint Alfred, Saint Withold,
and all the good men in the Saxon calendar, it doth make me mad to see
such gay lordlings from over the sea go stepping on the necks of good
Saxons who owned this land before ever their great-grandsires chewed
rind of brawn! By the bright bow of Heaven, I will have their ill-gotten
gains from them, even though I hang for it as high as e'er a forest tree
in Sherwood!"</p>
<p>"Why, how now, master," quoth Little John, "what heat is this? Thou
dost set thy pot a-boiling, and mayhap no bacon to cook! Methinks yon
fellow's hair is overlight for Norman locks. He may be a good man and
true for aught thou knowest."</p>
<p>"Nay," said Robin, "my head against a leaden farthing, he is what I say.
So, lie ye both here, I say, till I show you how I drub this fellow."
So saying, Robin Hood stepped forth from the shade of the beech tree,
crossed the stile, and stood in the middle of the road, with his hands
on his hips, in the stranger's path.</p>
<p>Meantime the stranger, who had been walking so slowly that all this
talk was held before he came opposite the place where they were, neither
quickened his pace nor seemed to see that such a man as Robin Hood was
in the world. So Robin stood in the middle of the road, waiting while
the other walked slowly forward, smelling his rose, and looking this way
and that, and everywhere except at Robin.</p>
<p>"Hold!" cried Robin, when at last the other had come close to him.
"Hold! Stand where thou art!"</p>
<p>"Wherefore should I hold, good fellow?" said the stranger in soft and
gentle voice. "And wherefore should I stand where I am? Ne'ertheless, as
thou dost desire that I should stay, I will abide for a short time, that
I may hear what thou mayst have to say to me."</p>
<p>"Then," quoth Robin, "as thou dost so fairly do as I tell thee, and dost
give me such soft speech, I will also treat thee with all due courtesy.
I would have thee know, fair friend, that I am, as it were, a votary at
the shrine of Saint Wilfred who, thou mayst know, took, willy-nilly,
all their gold from the heathen, and melted it up into candlesticks.
Wherefore, upon such as come hereabouts, I levy a certain toll, which
I use for a better purpose, I hope, than to make candlesticks withal.
Therefore, sweet chuck, I would have thee deliver to me thy purse, that
I may look into it, and judge, to the best of my poor powers, whether
thou hast more wealth about thee than our law allows. For, as our good
Gaffer Swanthold sayeth, 'He who is fat from overliving must needs lose
blood.'"</p>
<p>All this time the youth had been sniffing at the rose that he held
betwixt his thumb and finger. "Nay," said he with a gentle smile, when
Robin Hood had done, "I do love to hear thee talk, thou pretty fellow,
and if, haply, thou art not yet done, finish, I beseech thee. I have yet
some little time to stay."</p>
<p>"I have said all," quoth Robin, "and now, if thou wilt give me thy
purse, I will let thee go thy way without let or hindrance so soon as I
shall see what it may hold. I will take none from thee if thou hast but
little."</p>
<p>"Alas! It doth grieve me much," said the other, "that I cannot do
as thou dost wish. I have nothing to give thee. Let me go my way, I
prythee. I have done thee no harm."</p>
<p>"Nay, thou goest not," quoth Robin, "till thou hast shown me thy purse."</p>
<p>"Good friend," said the other gently, "I have business elsewhere. I
have given thee much time and have heard thee patiently. Prythee, let me
depart in peace."</p>
<p>"I have spoken to thee, friend," said Robin sternly, "and I now tell
thee again, that thou goest not one step forward till thou hast done as
I bid thee." So saying, he raised his quarterstaff above his head in a
threatening way.</p>
<p>"Alas!" said the stranger sadly, "it doth grieve me that this thing must
be. I fear much that I must slay thee, thou poor fellow!" So saying, he
drew his sword.</p>
<p>"Put by thy weapon," quoth Robin. "I would take no vantage of thee. Thy
sword cannot stand against an oaken staff such as mine. I could snap
it like a barley straw. Yonder is a good oaken thicket by the roadside;
take thee a cudgel thence and defend thyself fairly, if thou hast a
taste for a sound drubbing."</p>
<p>First the stranger measured Robin with his eye, and then he measured the
oaken staff. "Thou art right, good fellow," said he presently, "truly,
my sword is no match for that cudgel of thine. Bide thee awhile till
I get me a staff." So saying, he threw aside the rose that he had been
holding all this time, thrust his sword back into the scabbard, and,
with a more hasty step than he had yet used, stepped to the roadside
where grew the little clump of ground oaks Robin had spoken of. Choosing
among them, he presently found a sapling to his liking. He did not cut
it, but, rolling up his sleeves a little way, he laid hold of it, placed
his heel against the ground, and, with one mighty pull, plucked the
young tree up by the roots from out the very earth. Then he came back,
trimming away the roots and tender stems with his sword as quietly as if
he had done nought to speak of.</p>
<p>Little John and the Tanner had been watching all that passed, but when
they saw the stranger drag the sapling up from the earth, and heard the
rending and snapping of its roots, the Tanner pursed his lips together,
drawing his breath between them in a long inward whistle.</p>
<p>"By the breath of my body!" said Little John, as soon as he could gather
his wits from their wonder, "sawest thou that, Arthur? Marry, I think
our poor master will stand but an ill chance with yon fellow. By Our
Lady, he plucked up yon green tree as it were a barley straw."</p>
<p>Whatever Robin Hood thought, he stood his ground, and now he and the
stranger in scarlet stood face to face.</p>
<p>Well did Robin Hood hold his own that day as a mid-country yeoman. This
way and that they fought, and back and forth, Robin's skill against the
stranger's strength. The dust of the highway rose up around them like
a cloud, so that at times Little John and the Tanner could see nothing,
but only hear the rattle of the staves against one another. Thrice Robin
Hood struck the stranger; once upon the arm and twice upon the ribs, and
yet had he warded all the other's blows, only one of which, had it met
its mark, would have laid stout Robin lower in the dust than he had ever
gone before. At last the stranger struck Robin's cudgel so fairly in the
middle that he could hardly hold his staff in his hand; again he struck,
and Robin bent beneath the blow; a third time he struck, and now not
only fairly beat down Robin's guard, but gave him such a rap, also, that
down he tumbled into the dusty road.</p>
<p>"Hold!" cried Robin Hood, when he saw the stranger raising his staff
once more. "I yield me!"</p>
<p>"Hold!" cried Little John, bursting from his cover, with the Tanner at
his heels. "Hold! give over, I say!"</p>
<p>"Nay," answered the stranger quietly, "if there be two more of you,
and each as stout as this good fellow, I am like to have my hands full.
Nevertheless, come on, and I will strive my best to serve you all."</p>
<p>"Stop!" cried Robin Hood, "we will fight no more. I take my vow, this
is an ill day for thee and me, Little John. I do verily believe that
my wrist, and eke my arm, are palsied by the jar of the blow that this
stranger struck me."</p>
<p>Then Little John turned to Robin Hood. "Why, how now, good master," said
he. "Alas! Thou art in an ill plight. Marry, thy jerkin is all befouled
with the dust of the road. Let me help thee to arise."</p>
<p>"A plague on thy aid!" cried Robin angrily. "I can get to my feet
without thy help, good fellow."</p>
<p>"Nay, but let me at least dust thy coat for thee. I fear thy poor bones
are mightily sore," quoth Little John soberly, but with a sly twinkle in
his eyes.</p>
<p>"Give over, I say!" quoth Robin in a fume. "My coat hath been dusted
enough already, without aid of thine." Then, turning to the stranger, he
said, "What may be thy name, good fellow?"</p>
<p>"My name is Gamwell," answered the other.</p>
<p>"Ha!" cried Robin, "is it even so? I have near kin of that name. Whence
camest thou, fair friend?"</p>
<p>"From Maxfield Town I come," answered the stranger. "There was I born
and bred, and thence I come to seek my mother's young brother, whom men
call Robin Hood. So, if perchance thou mayst direct me—"</p>
<p>"Ha! Will Gamwell!" cried Robin, placing both hands upon the other's
shoulders and holding him off at arm's length. "Surely, it can be none
other! I might have known thee by that pretty maiden air of thine—that
dainty, finicking manner of gait. Dost thou not know me, lad? Look upon
me well."</p>
<p>"Now, by the breath of my body!" cried the other, "I do believe from my
heart that thou art mine own Uncle Robin. Nay, certain it is so!" And
each flung his arms around the other, kissing him upon the cheek.</p>
<p>Then once more Robin held his kinsman off at arm's length and scanned
him keenly from top to toe. "Why, how now," quoth he, "what change is
here? Verily, some eight or ten years ago I left thee a stripling lad,
with great joints and ill-hung limbs, and lo! here thou art, as tight a
fellow as e'er I set mine eyes upon. Dost thou not remember, lad, how I
showed thee the proper way to nip the goose feather betwixt thy fingers
and throw out thy bow arm steadily? Thou gayest great promise of being a
keen archer. And dost thou not mind how I taught thee to fend and parry
with the cudgel?"</p>
<p>"Yea," said young Gamwell, "and I did so look up to thee, and thought
thee so above all other men that, I make my vow, had I known who thou
wert, I would never have dared to lift hand against thee this day. I
trust I did thee no great harm."</p>
<p>"No, no," quoth Robin hastily, and looking sideways at Little John,
"thou didst not harm me. But say no more of that, I prythee. Yet I will
say, lad, that I hope I may never feel again such a blow as thou didst
give me. By'r Lady, my arm doth tingle yet from fingernail to elbow.
Truly, I thought that I was palsied for life. I tell thee, coz, that
thou art the strongest man that ever I laid mine eyes upon. I take my
vow, I felt my stomach quake when I beheld thee pluck up yon green tree
as thou didst. But tell me, how camest thou to leave Sir Edward and thy
mother?"</p>
<p>"Alas!" answered young Gamwell, "it is an ill story, uncle, that I
have to tell thee. My father's steward, who came to us after old Giles
Crookleg died, was ever a saucy varlet, and I know not why my father
kept him, saving that he did oversee with great judgment. It used to
gall me to hear him speak up so boldly to my father, who, thou knowest,
was ever a patient man to those about him, and slow to anger and harsh
words. Well, one day—and an ill day it was for that saucy fellow—he
sought to berate my father, I standing by. I could stand it no
longer, good uncle, so, stepping forth, I gave him a box o' the ear,
and—wouldst thou believe it?—the fellow straightway died o't. I think
they said I broke his neck, or something o' the like. So off they packed
me to seek thee and escape the law. I was on my way when thou sawest me,
and here I am."</p>
<p>"Well, by the faith of my heart," quoth Robin Hood, "for anyone escaping
the law, thou wast taking it the most easily that ever I beheld in all
my life. Whenever did anyone in all the world see one who had slain a
man, and was escaping because of it, tripping along the highway like a
dainty court damsel, sniffing at a rose the while?"</p>
<p>"Nay, uncle," answered Will Gamwell, "overhaste never churned good
butter, as the old saying hath it. Moreover, I do verily believe that
this overstrength of my body hath taken the nimbleness out of my heels.
Why, thou didst but just now rap me thrice, and I thee never a once,
save by overbearing thee by my strength."</p>
<p>"Nay," quoth Robin, "let us say no more on that score. I am right glad
to see thee, Will, and thou wilt add great honor and credit to my band
of merry fellows. But thou must change thy name, for warrants will be
out presently against thee; so, because of thy gay clothes, thou shalt
henceforth and for aye be called Will Scarlet."</p>
<p>"Will Scarlet," quoth Little John, stepping forward and reaching out his
great palm, which the other took, "Will Scarlet, the name fitteth thee
well. Right glad am I to welcome thee among us. I am called Little John;
and this is a new member who has just joined us, a stout tanner named
Arthur a Bland. Thou art like to achieve fame, Will, let me tell thee,
for there will be many a merry ballad sung about the country, and many
a merry story told in Sherwood of how Robin Hood taught Little John and
Arthur a Bland the proper way to use the quarterstaff; likewise, as
it were, how our good master bit off so large a piece of cake that he
choked on it."</p>
<p>"Nay, good Little John," quoth Robin gently, for he liked ill to have
such a jest told of him. "Why should we speak of this little matter?
Prythee, let us keep this day's doings among ourselves."</p>
<p>"With all my heart," quoth Little John. "But, good master, I thought
that thou didst love a merry story, because thou hast so often made a
jest about a certain increase of fatness on my joints, of flesh gathered
by my abiding with the Sheriff of—"</p>
<p>"Nay, good Little John," said Robin hastily, "I do bethink me I have
said full enough on that score."</p>
<p>"It is well," quoth Little John, "for in truth I myself have tired of
it somewhat. But now I bethink me, thou didst also seem minded to make a
jest of the rain that threatened last night; so—"</p>
<p>"Nay, then," said Robin Hood testily, "I was mistaken. I remember me now
it did seem to threaten rain."</p>
<p>"Truly, I did think so myself," quoth Little John, "therefore, no doubt,
thou dost think it was wise of me to abide all night at the Blue Boar
Inn, instead of venturing forth in such stormy weather; dost thou not?"</p>
<p>"A plague of thee and thy doings!" cried Robin Hood. "If thou wilt have
it so, thou wert right to abide wherever thou didst choose."</p>
<p>"Once more, it is well," quoth Little John. "As for myself, I have been
blind this day. I did not see thee drubbed; I did not see thee tumbled
heels over head in the dust; and if any man says that thou wert, I can
with a clear conscience rattle his lying tongue betwixt his teeth."</p>
<p>"Come," cried Robin, biting his nether lip, while the others could
not forbear laughing. "We will go no farther today, but will return to
Sherwood, and thou shalt go to Ancaster another time, Little John."</p>
<p>So said Robin, for now that his bones were sore, he felt as though a
long journey would be an ill thing for him. So, turning their backs,
they retraced their steps whence they came.</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />