by Howard Pyle
All the archers around Gilbert’s booth shouted for joy till their throats were hoarse, tossing their caps aloft, and shaking hands with one another.
The Queen’s Page cometh across the lawn with four strange yeomen.
In the midst of all this noise and hubbub five men came walking across the lawn toward the King’s pavilion. The first was Richard Partington, and was known to most folk there, but the others were strange to everybody. Beside young Partington walked a yeoman clad in blue, and behind came three others, two in Lincoln green and one in scarlet. This last yeoman carried three stout bows of yew tree, two fancifully inlaid with silver and one with gold. Whilst these five men came walking across the meadow, a messenger came running from the King’s booth, and summoned Gilbert and Tepus and Hubert to go with him. And now the shouting quickly ceased, for all saw that something unwonted was toward, so the folk stood up in their places and leaned forward to see what was the ado.
The Bishop of Hereford knoweth old friends.
When Partington and the others came before the spot where the King and Queen sat, the four yeomen bent their knees and doffed their caps unto her. King Henry leaned far forward and stared at them closely, but the Bishop of Hereford, when he saw their faces, started as though stung by a wasp. He opened his mouth as though about to speak, but, looking up, he saw the Queen gazing at him with a smile upon her lips, so he said nothing, but bit his nether lip, whilst his face was as red as a cherry.
Then the Queen leaned forward and spake in a clear voice, “Locksley,” she said, “I have laid a wager with the King that thou and two of thy men can outshoot any three that he can send against you. Wilt thou do thy best for my sake?”
“Yea,” quoth Robin Hood, to whom she spake, “I will do my best for thy sake, and, if I fail, I make my vow never to finger bowstring more.”
Now, although Little John had been somewhat abashed in the Queen’s bower, he felt himself the sturdy fellow he was when the soles of his feet pressed green grass again; so he said boldly, “Now, blessings on thy sweet face, say I. And there lived a man that would not do his best for thee—I will say nought, only I would like to have the cracking of his knave’s pate!”
“Peace, Little John!” said Robin Hood, hastily, in a low voice; but good Queen Eleanor laughed aloud, and a ripple of merriment sounded all over the booth.
The Bishop of Hereford did not laugh, neither did the King, but he turned to the Queen, and quoth he, “Who are these men that thou hast brought before us?”
Then up spoke the Bishop, hastily, for he could hold his peace no longer: “Your majesty,” quoth he, “yon fellow in blue is a certain outlawed thief of the midcountry, named Robin Hood; yon tall, strapping villain goeth by the name of Little John; the other fellow in green is a certain backsliding gentleman, known as Will Scarlet; the man in red is a rogue of a northern minstrel, named Allan a Dale.”
The Bishop of Hereford telleth the King who the four strange yeomen are.
At this speech the King’s brows drew together blackly, and he turned to the Queen. “Is this true?” said he, sternly.
The King is wroth at the Queen.
“Yea,” said the Queen, smiling, “the Bishop hath told the truth; and truly he should know them well, for he and two of his friars spent three days in merry sport with Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest. I did little think that the good Bishop would so betray his friends. But bear in mind that thou hast pledged thy promise for the safety of these good yeomen for forty days.”
“I will keep my promise,” said the King, in a deep voice that showed the anger in his heart; “but when these forty days are gone let this outlaw look to himself, for mayhap things will not go so smoothly with him as he would like.” Then he turned to his archers, who stood near the Sherwood yeomen, listening and wondering at all that passed. Quoth he, “Gilbert, and thou, Tepus, and thou, Hubert, I have pledged myself that ye shall shoot against these three fellows. If ye outshoot the knaves I will fill your caps with silver pennies; if ye fail ye shall lose your prizes that ye have won so fairly, and they go to them that shoot against you, man to man. Do your best, lads, and if ye win this bout ye shall be glad of it to the last days of your life. Go, now, and get you gone to the butts.”
Then the three archers of the King turned and went back to their booths, and Robin and his men went to their places at the mark from which they were to shoot. Then they strung their bows and made themselves ready, looking over their quivers of arrows, and picking out the roundest and the best feathered.
The news of Robin Hood’s coming spreadeth far and near.
But when the King’s archers went to their tents, they told their friends all that had passed, and how that these four men were the famous Robin Hood and three of his band, to wit, Little John, Will Scarlet, and Allan a Dale. The news of this buzzed around among the archers in the booths, for there was not a man there that had not heard of these great midcountry yeomen. From the archers the news was taken up by the crowd that looked on at the shooting, so that at last everybody stood up, craning their necks to catch sight of the famous outlaws.
Six fresh targets were now set up, one for each man that was to shoot; whereupon Gilbert and Tepus and Hubert came straightway forth from the booths. Then Robin Hood and Gilbert of the White Hand tossed a farthing aloft to see who should lead in the shooting, and the lot fell to Gilbert’s side; thereupon he called upon Hubert of Suffolk to lead.
Hubert of Suffolk leadeth in the shooting.
Hubert took his place, planted his foot firmly, and fitted a fair, smooth arrow; then, breathing upon his finger-tips, he drew the string slowly and carefully. The arrow sped true, and lodged in the white; again he shot, and again he hit the clout; a third shaft he sped, but this time failed of the centre, and but struck the black, yet not more than a finger’s breadth from the white. At this a shout went up, for it was the best shooting that Hubert had yet done that day.
Merry Robin laughed, and quoth he, “Thou wilt have an ill time bettering that round, Will, for it is thy turn next. Brace thy thews, lad, and bring not shame upon Sherwood.”
Will Scarlet cometh next, but faileth with his first arrow.
Then Will Scarlet took his place; but, because of over-caution, he spoiled his target with the very first arrow that he sped, for he hit the next ring to the black, the second from the centre. At this Robin bit his lips. “Lad, lad,” quoth he, “hold not the string so long! Have I not often told thee what Gaffer Swanthold sayeth, that ‘over-caution spilleth the milk?’ ” To this Will Scarlet took heed, so the next arrow he shot lodged fairly in the centre ring; again he shot, and again he smote the centre; but, for all that, stout Hubert had outshot him, and showed the better target. Then all those that looked on clapped their hands for joy because that Hubert had overcome the stranger.
Quoth the King, grimly, to the Queen, “If thy archers shoot no better than that, thou art like to lose thy wager, lady.” But Queen Eleanor smiled, for she looked for better things from Robin Hood and Little John.
The King’s bow-bearer, Tepus, shooteth next.
And now Tepus took his place to shoot. He, also, took over-heed to what he was about, and so he fell into Will Scarlet’s error. The first arrow he struck into the centre ring, but the second missed its mark, and smote the black; the last arrow was tipped with luck, for it smote the very centre of the clout, upon the black spot that marked it. Quoth Robin Hood, “That is the sweetest shot that hath been sped this day; but, nevertheless, friend Tepus, thy cake is burned, methinks. Little John, it is thy turn next.”
Little John out-shoots stout Tepus.
So Little John took his place as bidden, and shot his three arrows quickly. He never lowered his bow arm in all the shooting, but fitted each shaft with his long bow raised; yet all three of his arrows smote the centre within easy distance of the black. At this no sound of shouting was heard, for, although it was the best shooting that had been done that day, the folk of London Town did not like to see the stout T
epus overcome by a fellow from the countryside, even were he as famous as Little John.
And now stout Gilbert of the White Hand took his place and shot with the greatest care; and again, for the third time in one day, he struck all three shafts into the clout.
Once again Gilbert of the White Hand maketh a clean score.
“Well done, Gilbert!” quoth Robin Hood, smiting him upon the shoulder. “I make my vow, thou art one of the best archers that ever mine eyes beheld. Thou shouldst be a free and merry ranger like us, lad, for thou art better fitted for the greenwood than for the cobble-stones and gray walls of London Town.” So saying, he took his place, and drew a fair, round arrow from his quiver, which he turned over and over ere he fitted it to his bowstring.
King Henry offers a prayer to Saint Hubert.
Then the King muttered in his beard, “Now, blessed Saint Hubert, if thou wilt but jog that rogue’s elbow so as to make him smite even the second ring, I will give eightscore waxen candles three fingers’ breadth in thickness to thy chapel nigh Matching.” But it may be Saint Hubert’s ears were stuffed with tow, for he seemed not to hear the King’s prayer this day.
Having gotten three shafts to his liking, merry Robin looked carefully to his bowstring ere he shot. “Yea,” quoth he to Gilbert, who stood nigh him to watch his shooting, “thou shouldst pay us a visit at merry Sherwood.” Here he drew the bowstring to his ear. “In London”—here he loosed his shaft—“thou canst find nought to shoot at but rooks and daws; there one can tickle the ribs of the noblest stags in England.” So he shot even whilst he talked, yet the shaft lodged not more than half an inch from the very centre.
“By my soul!” cried Gilbert. “Art thou the devil in blue, to shoot in that wise?”
Robin Hood shoots his three arrows in a wondrous manner.
“Nay,” quoth Robin, laughing, “not quite so ill as that, I trust.” And he took up another shaft and fitted it to the string. Again he shot, and again he smote his arrow close beside the centre; a third time he loosed his bowstring, and dropped his arrow just betwixt the other two and into the very centre, so that the feathers of all three were ruffled together, seeming from a distance to be one thick shaft.
Stout Gilbert owneth himself beaten.
And now a low murmur ran all among that great crowd, for never before had London seen such shooting as this; and never again would it see it after Robin Hood’s day had gone. All saw that the King’s archers were fairly beaten. and stout Gilbert clapped his palm to Robin’s, owning that he could never hope to draw such a bowstring as Robin Hood or Little John. But the King, full of wrath, would not have it so, though he knew in his mind that his men could not stand against those fellows. “Nay!” cried he, clenching his hands upon the arms of his seat, “Gilbert is not yet beaten! Did he not strike the clout thrice? Although I have lost my wager, he hath not yet lost the first prize. They shall shoot again, and still again, till either he or that knave Robin Hood cometh off the best. Go thou, Sir Hugh, and bid them shoot another round, and another, until one or the other is overcome.” Then Sir Hugh, seeing how wroth the King was, said never a word, but went straightway to do his bidding; so he came to where Robin Hood and the other stood, and told them what the King had said.
“With all my heart,” quoth merry Robin, “I will shoot from this time till to-morrow day if it can pleasure my most gracious lord and king. Take thy place, Gilbert lad, and shoot.”
So Gilbert took his place once more, but this time he failed, for, a sudden little wind arising, his shaft missed the centre ring, but by not more than the breadth of a barley straw.
Gilbert shooteth one more shaft, but misseth the white.
“Thy eggs are cracked, Gilbert,” quoth Robin, laughing; and straightway he loosed a shaft, and once more smote the white circle of the centre.
Robin Hood lodges another arrow in the centre ring.
Then the King arose from his place, and not a word said he, but he looked around with a baleful look, and it would have been an ill day for any one that he saw with a joyous or a merry look upon his face. Then he and his Queen and all the court left the place, but the King’s heart was brimming full of wrath within him.
The King leaveth the archery butts in bitter wrath.
After the King had gone, all the yeomen of the archer guard came crowding around Robin, and Little John, and Will, and Allan, to snatch a look at these famous fellows from the midcountry; and with them came many that had been onlookers at the sport, for the same purpose. Thus it happened presently that the yeomen, to whom Gilbert stood talking, were all surrounded by a crowd of people that formed a ring about them. “Marry,” quoth Little John to Will Scarlet, “one would think that these poor fellows had never seen a stout yeoman ranger in all their lives before, or that we were some curious spectacle, like the Cumberland Giant, or the Welsh Dwarf, that we saw last month at the fair at Norwich.”
After a while the three judges that had the giving away of the prizes came forward, and the chief of them all spake to Robin and said: “According to agreement, the first prize belongeth rightly to thee; so here I give thee the silver bugle, here the quiver of ten golden arrows, and here a purse of twoscore and ten golden pounds.” And as he spake he handed those things to Robin, and then turned to Little John. “To thee,” he said, “belongeth the second prize, to wit, fivescore of the finest harts that run on Dallen Lea. Thou mayest shoot them whensoever thou dost list.” Last of all he turned to stout Hubert. “Thou,” said he, “hast held thine own against the yeoman with whom thou didst shoot, and so thou hast kept the prize duly thine, to wit, two tuns of good Rhenish wine. These shall be delivered to thee whensoever thou dost list.” Then he called upon the other seven of the King’s archers who had last shot, and gave them each fourscore silver pennies.
Robin Hood and Little John divide their prizes amongst the stout archers of the King’s guard.
Then up spake Robin, and quoth he, “This silver bulge I keep in honor of this shooting match; but thou, Gilbert, art the best archer of all the King’s guard, and to thee I freely give this purse of gold. Take it, man, and would it were ten times as much, for thou art a right yeoman, good and true. Furthermore, to each of the ten that last shot I give one of these golden shafts apiece. Keep them always by you, so that ye may tell your grandchildren, an ye are ever blessed with them, that ye are the very stoutest yeomen in all the wide world.”
At this all shouted aloud, for it pleased them to hear Robin speak so of them.
Then up spake Little John. “Good friend Tepus,” said he, “I want not those harts of Dallen Lea that yon stout judge spoke of but now, for in truth we have enow and more than enow in our own country. Twoscore and ten I give to thee for thine own shooting, and five I give to each band for their pleasure.”
At this another great shout went up, and many tossed their caps aloft, and swore among themselves that no better fellows ever walked the sod than Robin Hood and his stout yeomen.
One bringeth warning to Robin Hood of the King’s wrath.
Whilst they so shouted with loud voices, a tall burly yeoman of the King’s guard came forward and plucked Robin by the sleeve. “Good master,” quoth he, “I have somewhat to tell thee in thine ear; a silly thing, God wot, for one stout yeoman to tell another; but a young peacock of a page, one Richard Partington, was seeking thee without avail in the crowd, and, not being able to find thee, told me that he bore a message to thee from a certain lady that thou wottest of. This message he bade me tell thee privily, word for word, and thus it was. Let me see—I trust I have forgot it not—yea, thus it was: ‘The lion growls. Beware thy head.’ ”
Robin Hood and his three merry men leave London Town.
“Is it so?” quoth Robin, starting; for he knew right well that it was the Queen sent the message, and that she spake of the King’s wrath. “Now, I thank thee, good fellow, for thou hast done me greater service than thou knowest of this day.” Then he called his three yeomen together, and told them private
ly that they had best be jogging, as it was like to be ill for them so nigh merry London Town. So, without tarrying longer, they made their way through the crowd until they had come out from the press. Then, without stopping, they left London Town, and started away northward.
Thus ended the famous shooting match before Queen Eleanor. And now we will hear how ill King Harry kept his promise to his Queen that no harm should befall Robin Hood for forty days, in which time he might come and go as he wished.
II.
The Chase of Robin Hood.
SO Robin Hood and the others left the archery range at Finsbury Fields, and, tarrying not, set forth straightway upon their homeward journey. It was well for them that they did so, for they had not gone more than three or four miles upon their way when six of the yeomen of the King’s guard came bustling amongst the crowd that still lingered, seeking for safety. Robin and his men, to seize upon them and make them prisoners. Truly, it was an ill-done thing in the King to break his promise, but it all came about through the Bishop of Hereford’s doing, for thus it happened:—
The King break-eth his promise tothe Queen ofRobin Hood’s
After the King left the archery ground, he went straightway to his cabinet, and with him went the Bishop of Hereford and Sir Robert Lee; but the King said never a word to these two, but sat gnawing his nether lip, for his heart was galled within him by what had happened. At last the Bishop of Hereford spoke, in a low, sorrowful voice: “It is a sad thing, your majesty,” quoth he, “that this knavish outlaw should be let to escape in this wise; for, let him but get back to Sherwood Forest safe and sound, and he may snap his fingers at King and King’s men.”
