Sir Richard showeth Robin that he is in greater danger than ever, and advises him what to do.
So Robin went with Sir Richard of the Lea, and did as he said, for he saw the wisdom of that which the knight advised, and that this was his only chance of safety.
Robin Hood throweth himself upon Queen Eleanor’s mercy.
Queen Eleanor walked in her royal garden, amid the roses that bloomed sweetly, and with her walked six of her ladies-in-waiting, chattering blithely together. Of a sudden a man leaped up to the top of the wall from the other side, and then, hanging for a moment, dropped lightly upon the grass within. All the ladies-in-waiting shrieked at the suddenness of his coming, but the man ran to the Queen and kneeled at her feet, and she saw it was Robin Hood.
“Why, how now, Robin!” cried she, “dost thou dare to come into the very jaws of the raging lion? Alas, poor fellow! thou art lost indeed if the King finds thee here. Dost thou not know that he is seeking thee through all the land?”
“Yea,” quoth Robin, “I do know right well that the King seeks me, and therefore I have come; for, surely, no ill can befall me when he hath pledged his royal word to your majesty for my safety. Moreover, I know your majesty’s kindness and gentleness of heart, and so I lay my life freely in your gracious hands.”
“I take thy meaning, Robin Hood,” said the Queen, “and that thou dost convey reproach to me, as well thou mayest, for I know that I have not done by thee as I ought to have done. I know right well that thou must have been hard pressed by peril to leap so boldly into one danger to escape another. Once more I promise thee mine aid, and will do all I can to send thee back in safety to Sherwood Forest. Bide thou here till I return.” So saying, she left Robin in the garden of roses, and was gone a long time.
Sir Robert Lee reproveth Robin Hood.
When she came back Sir Robert Lee was with her, and the Queen’s cheeks were hot and the Queen’s eyes were bright, as though she had been talking with high words. Then Sir Robert came straight forward to where Robin Hood stood, and he spoke to the yeoman in a cold, stern voice. Quoth he, “Our gracious Sovereign the King hath mitigated his wrath toward thee, fellow, and hath once more promised that thou shalt depart in peace and safety. Not only hath he promised this, but in three days he will send one of his pages to go with thee and see that none arrest thy journey back again. Thou mayst thank thy patron saint that thou hast such a good friend in our noble Queen, for, but for her persuasion and arguments, thou hadst been a dead man, I can tell thee. Let this peril that thou hast passed through teach thee two lessons. First, be more honest. Second, be not so bold in thy comings and goings. A man that walketh in the darkness as thou dost may escape for a time, but in the end he will surely fall into the pit. Thou hast put thy head in the angry lion’s mouth, and yet thou hast escaped by a miracle. Try it not again.” So saying, he turned and left Robin and was gone.
Robin Hood getteth back safe to Sherwood.
For three days Robin abided in London in the Queen’s household, and at the end of that time the King’s head page, Edward Cunningham, came, and taking Robin with him, departed northward upon his way to Sherwood. Now and then they passed bands of the King’s men coming back again to London, but none of those bands stopped them, and so, at last, they reached the sweet, leafy woodlands.
Thus end the merry adventures which befell Robin Hood when he went to the famous shooting-match at London Town. And now we will hear of how the Bishop of Hereford and the Sheriff of Nottingham sought once more to take him in a different way. Likewise we will hear how merry King Richard of the Lion’s Heart visited Robin Hood in the depths of Sherwood Forest.
PART EIGHTH.
In which it is told how Robin Hood met Guy of Gisbourne in Sherwood Forest, and of the famous fight betwixt them. Also, how Little John fell into the Sheriffs hands through saving the life of three men. Likewise, it is told how good King Richard of the Lion’s Heart came to Nottinghamshire and visited Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest.
I.
Robin Hood and Guy of Gisbourne.
ALONG time passed after the great shooting-match, and during that time Robin followed one part of the advice of Sir Robert Lee, to wit, that of being less bold in his comings and his goings; for though mayhap he may not have been more honest (as most folks regard honesty), he took good care not to travel so far from Sherwood that he could not reach it again both easily and quickly.
King Richard cometh to the throne of England.
Great changes had fallen in this time; for King Henry had died and King Richard had come to the crown that fitted him so well through many hard trials, and through adventures as stirring as any that ever befell Robin Hood. But though great changes came, they did not reach to Sherwood’s shades, for there Robin Hood and his men dwelt as merrily as they had ever done, with hunting and feasting and singing and blithe woodland sports; for it was little the outside striving of the world troubled them.
The dawning of a summer’s day was fresh and bright, and the birds sang sweetly in a great tumult of sound. So loud was their singing that it awakened Robin Hood where he lay sleeping, so that he stirred, and turned, and arose. Up rose Little John also, and all the merry men; then, after they had broken their fast, they set forth hither and thither upon the doings of the day.
Robin Hood and Little John set forth in the forest.
Robin Hood and Little John walked down a forest path where all around the leaves danced and twinkled as the breeze trembled through them and the sunlight came flickering down. Quoth Robin Hood, “I make my vow, Little John, my blood tickles my veins as it flows through them this gay morn. What sayst thou to our seeking adventures, each one upon his own account?”
“With all my heart,” said Little John. “We have had more than one pleasant doing in that way, good master. Here are two paths; take thou the one to the right hand, and I will take the one to the left, and then let us each walk straight ahead till he tumble into some merry doing or other.”
“I like thy plan,” quoth Robin, “therefore we will part here. But look thee, Little John, keep thyself out of mischief, for I would not have ill befall thee for all the world.”
“Marry come up,” quoth Little John, “how thou talkest! Methinks thou art wont to get thyself into tighter coils than I am like to do.”
Robin Hood and Little John take different paths to seek adventure.
At this Robin Hood laughed. “Why, in sooth, Little John,“ said he, ”thou hast a blundering hard-headed way that seemeth to bring thee right side uppermost in all thy troubles ; but let us see who cometh out best this day.“ So saying, he clapped his palm to Little John’s and each departed upon his way, the trees quickly shutting the one from the other’s sight.
Robin Hood cometh upon a strange-looking man.
Robin Hood strolled onward till he came to where a broad woodland road stretched before him. Overhead the branches of the trees laced together in flickering foliage, all golden where it grew thin to the sunlight; beneath his feet the ground was soft and moist from the sheltering shade. Here in this pleasant spot the sharpest adventure that ever befell Robin Hood came upon him; for, as he walked down the woodland path thinking of nought but the songs of the birds, he came of a sudden to where a man was seated upon the mossy roots beneath the shade of a broad-spreading oak tree. Robin Hood saw that the stranger had not caught sight of him, so he stopped and stood quite still, looking at the other a long time before he came forward. And the stranger, I wot, was well worth looking at, for never had Robin seen a figure like that sitting beneath the tree. From his head to his feet he was clad in a horse’s hide, dressed with hair upon it. Upon his head was a cowl that hid his face from sight, and which was made of the horse’s skin, the ears whereof stuck up like those of a rabbit. His body was clad in a jacket made of the hide, and his legs were covered with the hairy skin likewise. By his side was a heavy broadsword and a sharp, double-edged dagger. A quiver of smooth round arrows hung across his shoulders, and his stout bo
w of yew leaned against the tree beside him.
“Halloa, friend,” cried Robin, coming forward at last, “who art thou that sittest there? And what is that that thou hast upon thy body? I make my vow I ha’ never seen such a sight in all my life before. Had I done an evil thing, or did my conscience trouble me, I would be afraid of thee, thinking that thou wast some one from down below bringing a message bidding me come straightway to King Nicholas.”
To this speech the other answered not a word, but he pushed the cowl back from his head and showed a knit brow, a hooked nose, and a pair of fierce, restless, black eyes, which altogether made Robin think of a hawk as he looked on his face. But beside this there was something about the lines on the stranger’s face, and his thin cruel mouth, and the hard glare of his eyes, that made one’s flesh creep to look upon.
“Who art thou, rascal?” said he at last, in a loud, harsh voice.
“Tut, tut,” quoth merry Robin, “speak not so sourly, brother. Has thou fed upon vinegar and nettles this morning that thy speech is so stinging?”
“An thou likest not my words,” said the other, fiercely, “thou hadst best be jogging, for I tell thee plainly, my deeds match them.”
“Nay, but I do like thy words, thou sweet, pretty thing,” quoth Robin, squatting down upon the grass in front of the other; “moreover, I tell thee thy speech is witty and gameson as any I ever heard in all my life.”
The other said not a word, but he glared upon Robin with a wicked and baleful look, such as a fierce dog bestows upon a man ere it springs at his throat. Robin returned the gaze with one of wide-eyed innocence, not a shadow of a smile twinkling in his eyes or twitching at the corners of his mouth. So they sat staring at one another for a long time, until the stranger broke the silence suddenly. “What is thy name, fellow?” said he.
“Now,” quoth Robin, “I am right glad to hear thee speak, for I began to fear the sight of me had stricken thee dumb. As for my name, it may be this or it may be that; but methinks it is more meet for thee to tell me, thine, seeing that thou art the greater stranger in these parts. Prythee, tell me, sweet chuck, why wearest thou that dainty garb upon thy pretty body?”
Guy of Gisbourne telleth his story to Robin Hood.
“At these words the other broke into a short, harsh roar of laughter. “By the bones of the Daemon Odin,” said he, “thou art the boldest spoken man that ever I have seen in all my life. I know not why I do not smite thee down where thou sittest, for only two days ago I skewered a man over back of Nottingham Town for saying not half so much to me as thou hast done. I wear this garb, thou fool, to keep my body warm; likewise it is near as good as a coat of steel against a common sword-thrust. As for my name, I care not who knoweth it. It is Guy of Gisbourne, and thou mayst have heard it before. I come from the woodlands over in Herefordshire, upon the lands of the Bishop of that ilk. I am an outlaw, and get my living by hook and by crook in a manner it boots not now to tell of. Not long since the Bishop sent for me, and said that if I would do a certain thing that the Sheriff of Nottingham would ask of me, he would get me a free pardon, and give me tenscore pounds to boot. So straightway I came to Nottingham Town and found my sweet Sheriff; and what thinkest thou he wanted of me? Why, forsooth, to come here to Sherwood to hunt up one Robin Hood, also an outlaw, and to take him alive or dead. It seemeth that they have no one here to face that bold fellow, and so sent all the way to Herefordshire, and to me, for thou knowest the old saying, ‘Set a thief to catch a thief.’ As for the slaying of this fellow, it galleth me not a whit, for I would shed the blood of my own brother for the half of two hundred pounds.”
To all this Robin listened, and as he listened his gorge rose. Well he knew of this Guy of Gisbourne, and of all the bloody and murderous deeds that he had done in Herefordshire, for his doings were famous throughout all the land. Yet, although he loathed the very presence of the man, he held his peace, for he had an end to serve. “Truly,” quoth he, “I have heard of thy gentle doings. Methinks there is no one in all the wide world that Robin Hood would rather meet than thee.”
At this Guy of Gisbourne gave another harsh laugh. “Why,” quoth he, “it is a merry thing to think of one stout outlaw like Robin Hood meeting another stout outlaw like Guy of Gisbourne. Only in this case it will be an ill happening for Robin Hood, for the day he meets Guy of Gisbourne he shall die.”
“But thou gentle, merry spirit,” quoth Robin, “dost thou not think that mayhap this same Robin Hood may be the better man of the two? I know him right well, and many think that he is one of the stoutest men hereabouts.”
“He may be the stoutest of men hereabouts,” quoth Guy of Gisbourne, “yet, I tell thee, fellow, this sty of yours is not the wide world. I lay my life upon it I am the better man of the two. He an outlaw, forsooth! why I hear that he hath never let blood in all his life, saving when he first came to the forest. Some call him a great archer; marry, I would not be afraid to stand against him all the days of the year with a bow in my hand.”
“Why, truly, some folk do call him a great archer,” said Robin Hood; “but we of Nottinghamshire are famous hands with the long bow. Even I, though but a simple hand at the craft, would not fear to try a bout with thee.”
At these words Guy of Gisbourne looked upon Robin with wondering eyes, and then gave another roar of laughter till the woods rang. “Now,” quoth he, “thou art a bold fellow to talk to me in this way. I like thy spirit in so speaking up to me, for few men have dared to do so. Put up a garland, lad, and I will try a bout with thee.”
Robin Hood sets up a mark for Guy of Gisbourne to shoot at.
“Tut, tut,” quoth Robin, “only babes shoot at garlands hereabouts. I will put up a good Nottingham mark for thee.” So saying he arose, and going to a hazel thicket not far off, he cut a wand about twice the thickness of a man’s thumb. From this he peeled the bark, and, sharpening the point, stuck it up in the ground in front of a great oak tree. Thence he measured off fourscore paces, which brought him beside the tree where the other sat. “There,” quoth he, “is the kind of mark that Nottingham yeomen shoot at. Now let me see thee split that wand if thou art an archer.”
Then Guy of Gisbourne arose. “Now out upon it!” cried he. “The Devil himself could not hit such a mark as that.”
“Mayhap he could and mayhap he could not,” quoth merry Robin, “but that we shall never know till thou hast shot thereat.”
Guy of Gisbourne misseth the mark.
At these words Guy of Gisbourne looked upon Robin with knit brows, but, as the yeoman still looked innocent of any ill meaning, he bottled his words and strung his bow in silence. Twice he shot, but neither time did he hit the wand, missing it the first time by a span and the second time by a good palm’s breadth. Robin laughed and laughed. “I see now,” quoth he, “that the Devil himself could not hit that mark. Good fellow, if thou art no better with the broadsword than thou art with the bow and arrow, thou wilt never overcome Robin Hood.”
At these words Guy of Gisbourne glared savagely upon Robin. Quoth he, “Thou hast a merry tongue, thou villain; but take care that thou makest not too free with it, or I may cut it out from thy throat for thee.”
Robin Hood strung his bow and took his place with never a word, albeit his heartstrings quivered with anger and loathing. Twice he shot, the first time hitting within an inch of the wand, the second time splitting it fairly in the middle. Then, without giving the other a chance for speech, he flung his bow upon the ground. “There, thou bloody villain!” cried he, fiercely, “let that show thee how little thou knowest of manly sports. And now look thy last upon the daylight, for the good earth hath been befouled long enough by thee, thou vile beast! This day, Our Lady willing, thou diest—I am Robin Hood.” So saying, he flashed forth his bright sword in the sunlight.
For a time Guy of Gisbourne stared upon Robin as though bereft of wits; but his wonder quickly passed to a wild rage. “Art thou indeed Robin Hood?” cried he. “Now I am glad to meet thee, thou poor wretc
h! Shrive thyself, for thou wilt have no time for shriving when I am done with thee.” So saying, he also drew his sword.
Robin Hood out-shoots Guy of Gisbourne.
Robin Hood fighteth Guy of Gisbourne with his sword.
And now came the fiercest fight that ever Sherwood saw; for each man knew that either he or the other must die, and that no mercy was to be had in this battle. Up and down they fought, till all the sweet green grass was crushed and ground beneath the trampling of their heels. More than once the point of Robin Hood’s sword felt the softness of flesh, and presently the ground began to be sprinkled with bright red drops, albeit not one of them came from Robin’s veins. At last Guy of Gisbourne made a fierce and deadly thrust at Robin Hood, from which he leaped back lightly, but in so leaping he caught his heel in a root, and fell heavily upon his back. “Now, Holy Mary aid me!” muttered he, as the other leaped at him, with a grin of rage upon his face. Fiercely Guy of Gisbourne stabbed at the other with his great sword; but Robin caught the blade in his naked hand, and, though it cut his palm, he turned the point away so that it plunged deep into the ground close beside him; then, ere a blow could be struck again, he leaped to his feet, with his good sword in his hand. And now despair fell upon Guy of Gisbourne’s heart in a black cloud, and he looked around him wildly, like a wounded hawk. Seeing that his strength was going from him, Robin leaped forward, and, quick as a flash, struck a back-handed blow beneath the sword arm. Down fell the sword from Guy of Gisbourne’s grasp, and back he staggered at the stroke, and, ere he could regain himself, Robin’s sword passed through and through his body. Round he spun upon his heel, and, flinging his hands aloft with a shrill, wild cry, fell prone upon his face upon the green sod.