by Roger Green
‘Stand, base Friar!’ shouted Robin suddenly in a feigned voice. ‘Down on your knees, or I send an arrow into your heart! There are six of us here, and we will have no mercy unless you render up your gold!’
Down on his knees in the dust went Friar Tuck, the laughter cut short suddenly. But, as he heard the six coming up behind him, he leapt to his feet, whirled up his staff and rushed upon them roaring:
‘Robin Hood for ever!’
‘Have a care with that great twig of yours!’ laughed Robin. ‘If you drop that on my head it will be Robin Hood for his everlasting rest!’
‘Robin! Good Robin! And John and Scarlet!’ cried the Friar. ‘And gentle Maid Marian too! How filled with joy I am to see you!… Look you here what I have collected, a golden prize for you!’
‘And look what I bring with me,’ answered Robin. ‘Brave George-a-Greene the Pinner of Wakefield, who now is one of us, and with him his bride the lovely Bettris. Make them welcome, good Friar!’
‘Welcome they are, by the Mass!’ boomed Friar Tuck. ‘And welcome are you back to Sherwood. Oh, there will be feasting and drinking tonight. Come away quickly, I am like to faint with hunger and thirst at the very idea!’
And away they went, arm in arm through the forest, Friar Tuck carrying his golden prize, and singing right lustily:
Robin and Marian, Scarlet and Little John,
Drink to them one by one, drink as ye sing:
Robin and Marian, Scarlet and Little John,
Echo to echo through Sherwood shall fling:
Robin and Marian, Scarlet and Little John,
Long with their glory old Sherwood shall ring!
18
The Witch of Paplewick
His scene is Sherwood, and his play a Tale
Of Robin Hood’s inviting from the vale
Of Belvoir all the shepherds to a feast
Where by the casual absence of one guest
The mirth is troubled much…
BEN JONSON: The Sad Shepherd (1640)
One of the strangest adventures that ever befell Robin Hood and his company chanced at a time when they had left the deeper glades of Sherwood for the open parkland and the green downs where the shepherds and shepherdesses of Paplewick lived their simple, carefree life far from all wars and discords.
On a sweet summer’s day Robin Hood decided to hold a feast at which to entertain all the shepherds and shepherdesses, besides his own merry men. Marian with Scarlet and several others went forth to kill the deer, while Robin greeted each of his guests. But one guest was missing, the shepherd Eglamour.
‘Where is he, who was wont to sing such sweet songs?’ asked Robin, and the shepherd Lionel replied:
‘Alas, good Robin, Eglamour has lost his love, the beauteous Earine, drowned only a few days since in passing over the river Trent. Her body was never recovered, and Eglamour will not believe that she is dead, but seeks her still by wood and wold, calling her name until I think the very birds weep for him.’
‘That is a sadness hard to be comforted,’ said Robin. ‘Yet go you in search of him, friend Lionel, and let Much go with you also. Seek if you may find him and bring him to our feast.’
Scarcely had they set out in search of Eglamour, when a horn sounded near by, and Marian returned walking proudly in advance while Scarlet and the rest followed behind with the deer cut up and ready to cook.
‘My Marian!’ cried Robin.
‘Robin, my love!’ she answered. ‘Oh, now my day’s happiness is complete! I rose early, early before the sun, and such fine sport we had seeking the deer. Then one shot brought him down, a long shot, and my arrow in his heart. And now to find you waiting with all our friends!’
‘We did but wait for you,’ said Robin. ‘This is a day of joy indeed.’
‘Only one shadow fell upon us,’ said Marian. ‘When we had killed the deer and cut it up, a raven sat upon the tree over our heads and croaked dismally.’
‘It was but waiting for its share!’ laughed Robin. ‘They are wise birds and know that it is ever the huntsman’s custom, when he cleaves the brisket bone to set aside the spoon of it with the gristle that grows there – which indeed is often called the Raven’s Bone.’
‘I know,’ said Marian, ‘but the shepherd Karolin who was with us swore that it was no ordinary raven, but Mother Maudlin the Witch of Paplewick who, it is said, can take any form she will. Karolin met Maudlin in the dawning as he was rousing the deer for us – and says she cursed him, promising that ill things would this day befall any who ate of the deer at Robin Hood’s feast!’
Marian said this half laughing, and yet half in fear, for indeed at that time all men believed in witchcraft – and doubtless that was why there were then still witches to be found who were indeed in touch with the darker powers of evil.
While Marian went to wash in the stream nearby, Robin turned to Karolin the shepherd and asked him about Mother Maudlin.
‘She is indeed a witch,’ answered Karolin. ‘Some call her just a wise woman, but most of us know better. And I know for sure that she is an arrant witch, and a shape-shifter at that.’
‘How are you so certain?’ asked Robin.
‘Why, I saw her but a moment since,’ answered Karolin. ‘Down by the stream she had kindled a little fire and there was broiling the very bone we threw to the raven at the kill!’
During the pause which followed his statement, Marian came hastening back to them. But now all the joy and gaiety had died out of her face, and her eyes seemed cold and hard.
‘How now, sweet Marian?’ began Robin. ‘Shall we to the feast?’
‘Feast?’ cried Marian, her voice growing shrill with anger. ‘What feast?’
‘Why, Marian, how strange you look,’ said Robin. ‘Say, has anything chanced to cause you fear or pain?’
‘Oh, I am well!’ snapped Marian. ‘I am better than ever I was.’
‘Then let us call our friends to the feast,’ repeated Robin, still looking at her with a troubled expression.
‘Friends!’ cried Marian. ‘They shall not feast on this venison! It is too good for such coarse, rustic mouths that cannot open to thank for it. A starved sheep’s carcase would suit them better… Scarlet, take up the venison – swiftly now! Carry it to Mother Maudlin, the wise woman whom you call a witch, tell her I sent it: she at least will be grateful and return me her kind thanks.’
‘Marian! Can this be true!’ gasped Robin. ‘Friends, tell me that I am but dreaming, that I am not Robin Hood nor this my Marian?’
‘You are Robin Hood right enough,’ snapped Marian. ‘You it is who spy on everything I do, and follow me everywhere with your jealousy and oppression… I’ll give the venison to whom I please. I shot the deer, and it is mine to dispose of. And you shall not call my kind friend Maudlin a witch… Go and swill ale with these vulgar shepherds and their girls: I can bear your company no more today!’
And with that she strode away into the wood leaving them all speechless.
‘I fear she is stricken with some illness,’ said Robin at last. ‘Never has she been like this before… I will go seek her… But do her bidding, Scarlet, and take the venison to Mother Maudlin… Friends, forgive me. This has spoilt all the joy of our merrymaking: but I trust that all may yet be set right.’
Then Robin went off into the wood, and presently he found Marian sitting by the stream with a shepherdess called Amie who was telling her all the sad tale of Eglamour and the lost Earine.
‘Oh, my love!’ cried Marian so soon as she saw Robin. ‘Forgive me for staying so long away from you.’ And she ran towards Robin with her arms outstretched.
But Robin said sternly: ‘And am I now your love, and no longer a spy who follows you everywhere with my jealousy and oppression?’
‘Spy? Jealousy?’ gasped Marian. ‘Oh, Robin, what do you mean?’
‘Did you not leave our guests declaring that a starved sheep’s carcase was all they were fit for, and send Will Scarlet to carry the veniosn to
Mother Maudlin?’
‘I, to Mother Maudlin?’ gasped Marian. ‘Does Scarlet say that?’
‘You cannot deny it,’ said Robin, ‘for here is Lionel who heard it all – and here comes Scarlet himself!’
‘Alas!’ cried Marian, her eyes filling with tears. ‘This is some cruel jest you are practising on me. I never said any of these things, nor sent the venison to Mother Maudlin. I came here to the stream to wash, and would have returned at once had I not found Amie and stayed to hear of the sad loss of Earine.’
By this time Scarlet had joined them.
‘I have done your bidding,’ he said, ‘and taken the venison to Mother Maudlin’s.’
‘Alas!’ cried Marian again. ‘You are all in league against me! I never gave you any such command. I have been here all the time with Amie, ever since I left you, just after Lionel had told you of the raven and Mother Maudlin.’
‘The raven and the witch!’ exclaimed Scarlet. ‘By Our Lady, there is something strange in all this! Is it your will, good Lady Marian, that I bring back the venison?’
‘It is indeed,’ answered Marian, and away went Scarlet at full speed.
‘Good Robin Hood,’ said Amie. ‘I swear before God that Maid Marian has been here with me for at least the half of an hour – and when she came it was with hands defiled from the deer which she purposed but to wash in the stream.’
‘This is strange,’ began Robin. ‘Yet how can our senses so have been deceived?’
‘Look you!’ interrupted Lionel suddenly, ‘here comes Mother Maudlin herself, and Little John is with her.’
Sure enough, there was the old woman, who was supposed to be a witch, a bent form with long grey locks and fierce rather cruel eyes, hobbling swiftly along beside the gigantic person of her guide.
‘Good master,’ called Little John as soon as they were near enough. ‘Here is Mother Maudlin who would speak with you. She says that she comes in gratitude for some gift sent her by Maid Marian.’
‘Aye, kind hearts!’ cried Maudlin shrilly. ‘Sent me a stag, she did, a whole stag for poor old Maudlin – the fattest deer that ever I set eyes on. So fairly hunted, and at such a time too, when all your friends went hungry for the gift of it!’
‘It is true, then,’ said Robin in a low voice.
‘Oh, such a bounty to a poor old woman!’ continued Maudlin. ‘Oh, I shall go crazy with the joy of it!’
‘Surely, good mother,’ said Marian, ‘there is some mistake. This deer was indeed the meat intended to feast our dear friends the shepherds and shepherdesses of Paplewick – for whom the best stag in all Sherwood Forest could not be too good. Bethink you, my foresters were much mistaken to bear it all away to you; or else some madness had come upon me, if I indeed gave such an order. So you will not take it, dear Mother Maudlin, I dare swear, if we intreat you, now that you know who are our guests. Remember that red deer is still the choicest dish at any forest feast.’
‘But I know your charity, dear lady,’ whined Maudlin. ‘And you can well spare it… And I cannot return it now, for already I have divided it all among my poor neighbours in and around Paplewick.’
‘I gave it not!’ cried Marian, wringing her hands. ‘Either it was stolen, or else there has been witchcraft here!’
Just at that moment Will Scarlet came running swiftly and saluted Robin Hood.
‘Good master,’ he said. ‘The deer is back once more in your kitchen. I found it all together where Mother Maudlin had laid it away. But now our fellow Reynolde is making it ready to cook.’
‘Do you give a thing, and then take it back again?’ cried Maudlin.
‘No, Maudlin,’ replied Marian, her eyes flashing. ‘We took it not. For you had it no longer, but had given it away among your neighbours! I have done no wrong.’
Then Maudlin waved her hands in the air and shrieked curses on their feast and especially on Reynolde the cook.
The spit stand still and no joints turn
Before the fire, but let it burn
Both sides and haunches till the whole
Converted be into one coal!
The stinking dropsy enter in
Your filthy cook and swell his skin,
The pain we call the gout begin
To prick and itch from toe to shin,
And cramp the cook in every limb –
Before you dine, all this on him!
And away she hobbled, still cursing freely, and chanting her wicked rhymes in a shrill voice.
‘By the Mass,’ exclaimed Robin, crossing himself. ‘She is a witch indeed. I believe she can take any shape, as Lionel hinted. And if I could but see her once more in Marian’s form, which I almost believe she wore a little while since, I would know for certain how we have been abused and cheated… Sweet Marian, forgive me for doubting you! With this kiss I call you all to witness my penance.’
Just at this moment Friar Tuck came puffing up, followed by several others of Robin’s men.
‘Here’s a to-do!’ gasped the Friar. ‘Poor Reynolde the cook is taken with the gout or cramp all of a sudden! He is all ridden with aches and pains, he cannot stand, he cannot stir hand or foot and, worse of all, he cannot cook!’
‘Then indeed he is bewitched!’ cried Lionel the shepherd. ‘And Mother Maudlin has done it even now with charms and her curses!’
‘What’s to be done?’ asked Robin.
‘She must be restrained!’ cried Lionel, ‘otherwise she’ll do a worse mischief. She’ll have some charm upon her, some magic belt or locket or talisman.’
‘All right,’ exclaimed Robin. ‘Some of you – Little John, George-a-Greene, Scarlet – go with Lionel in search of her. You, good Friar and Much, go back and cook our dinner, it were a pity to spoil it!’
‘By the Mass, that were the greatest pity of all!’ cried Friar Tuck. ‘Come, Much – let us make haste to save our dinner!’
So they set off in several directions, Lionel telling John and the rest with many ghastly details how witches always lived in deep, dark caves by ruined churchyards and among gaping graves, making hideous brews out of sad mandrake, deadly nightshade, stupefying hemlock, and poisonous adders’ tongues.
Robin and Marian stayed behind with Amie the shepherdess, for she assured them that Eglamour the sad shepherd was certain to pass that way, still lamenting for his lost love, and then they might stop and comfort him.
Sure enough Eglamour came presently walking like a shadow among the tall ferns and grasses, and singing of his lost Earine:
Here was she wont to go! and here! and here!
Just where those daisies, pinks and violets grow;
The world might find the Spring by following her,
For other print her aid steps ne’er left.
Her treading would not bend a blade of grass,
Or shake the downy blow-ball from his stalk!
But like the soft west wind she shot along,
And where she went, the flowers took thickest root,
As she had sowed them with her odorous foot.
‘Good shepherd,’ said Robin Hood kindly, as Eglamour paused beside them, his voice dying away in sobs. ‘Good shepherd, be comforted. Such grief I know can find no cure save only time: but you must fight against it, and we will help you –’
‘She is drowned!’ cried Eglamour wildly. ‘Drowned in the Trent! Maybe she fled away from some vile man – but she, as chaste as was her name, Earine – died in the cold stream, my lovely maid. And now her sweet soul hovers here in the air above us – oh, Earine, Earine! I come!’
And on a sudden he fled away into the wood, yet not so suddenly but that both Robin and Marian could distinctly see the figure of a girl flitting away in front of him.
‘By Our Lady,’ said Robin. ‘Yonder indeed is Earine – or her ghost.’
‘Or… Robin, do you think Maudlin could be up to more of her tricks?’ gasped Marian.
‘I’ll follow!’ shouted Robin. ‘Stay you here with Amie!’ And away he went over the sprin
gy turf and among the trees.
Very soon he lost sight of Eglamour, but still every now and then he could see the slim form that looked like Earine speeding on ahead of him.
At last he came among dark rocks and trees blasted by lightning, where for a while he was quite lost, until at length he heard shouts and a horn which he recognized as Little John’s, and following the sounds came suddenly upon a dark house or hovel built against the cliff side and above a deep pool in the rocks into which a waterfall thundered, and where the water swirled round as if in a giant’s cauldron.
Outside the house stood Little John and Eglamour, and in the doorway was Marian. Robin paused in amazement, and watched unseen.
‘You are mistaken, good John, greatly mistaken,’ Marian was saying. ‘They say that Maudlin is a witch but that is false. It is only that she is far wiser than other women, and knows the cure for many sicknesses and wounds. Therefore leave her in peace, good John; return to Robin and tell him what I say, and beg him as he loves me not to pursue her further – for she is my dear friend.’
‘This may be true, Lady Marian,’ said Little John uncertainly, ‘but Robin must decide that for himself. Here I bide until he comes!’ And with that he blew another call on his horn.
Then Robin stepped out into view.
‘You run well, Marian!’ he began. ‘Faster than I do, and yet –’
But he had no time for more, for Marian, as soon as she saw him, uttered a scream of terror and turning struggled to open the door of the hovel.
Robin sprang forward, and as he did so saw that about her waist she wore a strange girdle curiously embroidered with mystic signs… He had seen it before… But not round Marian’s waist… Surely Mother Maudlin wore just such a girdle?
Robin seized the girdle just as the door flew open. It broke in his hand, remaining there as Marian disappeared into the darkness within.
A moment later Maudlin rushed out:
‘Help! Murder! Help!’ she screamed. ‘You will not rob me, outlaw? Wicked thief, restore my girdle that you have broken!’
‘Was this some charmed circle,’ said Robin grimly, as he looked at the broken girdle in his hand, ‘was this the cause of our deceptions?… Look you, Mother Maudlin, there is no place for such as you in Sherwood Forest, nor in Paplewick, nor anywhere among the haunts of good men and honest women. Now get you gone from here. There goes your charm!’ and as he spoke he flung the broken girdle far out into the seething pool beneath the waterfall.
