



Produced by Charles Keller and David Widger





THE MERRY ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD

by Howard Pyle



PREFACE

FROM THE AUTHOR TO THE READER


You who so plod amid serious things that you feel it shame to give
yourself up even for a few short moments to mirth and joyousness in the
land of Fancy; you who think that life hath nought to do with innocent
laughter that can harm no one; these pages are not for you. Clap to the
leaves and go no farther than this, for I tell you plainly that if you
go farther you will be scandalized by seeing good, sober folks of real
history so frisk and caper in gay colors and motley that you would
not know them but for the names tagged to them. Here is a stout, lusty
fellow with a quick temper, yet none so ill for all that, who goes by
the name of Henry II. Here is a fair, gentle lady before whom all the
others bow and call her Queen Eleanor. Here is a fat rogue of a fellow,
dressed up in rich robes of a clerical kind, that all the good folk call
my Lord Bishop of Hereford. Here is a certain fellow with a sour temper
and a grim look--the worshipful, the Sheriff of Nottingham. And here,
above all, is a great, tall, merry fellow that roams the greenwood and
joins in homely sports, and sits beside the Sheriff at merry feast,
which same beareth the name of the proudest of the Plantagenets--Richard
of the Lion's Heart. Beside these are a whole host of knights, priests,
nobles, burghers, yeomen, pages, ladies, lasses, landlords, beggars,
peddlers, and what not, all living the merriest of merry lives, and all
bound by nothing but a few odd strands of certain old ballads (snipped
and clipped and tied together again in a score of knots) which draw
these jocund fellows here and there, singing as they go.

Here you will find a hundred dull, sober, jogging places, all tricked
out with flowers and what not, till no one would know them in their
fanciful dress. And here is a country bearing a well-known name, wherein
no chill mists press upon our spirits, and no rain falls but what rolls
off our backs like April showers off the backs of sleek drakes; where
flowers bloom forever and birds are always singing; where every fellow
hath a merry catch as he travels the roads, and ale and beer and wine
(such as muddle no wits) flow like water in a brook.

This country is not Fairyland. What is it? 'Tis the land of Fancy, and
is of that pleasant kind that, when you tire of it--whisk!--you clap
the leaves of this book together and 'tis gone, and you are ready for
everyday life, with no harm done.

And now I lift the curtain that hangs between here and No-man's-land.
Will you come with me, sweet Reader? I thank you. Give me your hand.



CONTENTS

     CHAPTER                                                PAGE

     I         HOW ROBIN HOOD CAME TO BE AN OUTLAW            1
     II        ROBIN HOOD AND THE TINKER                     14
     III       THE SHOOTING MATCH AT NOTTINGHAM TOWN         27
     IV        WILL STUTELY RESCUED BY HIS COMPANIONS        38
     V         ROBIN HOOD TURNS BUTCHER                      50
     VI        LITTLE JOHN GOES TO NOTTINGHAM FAIR           61
     VII       HOW LITTLE JOHN LIVED AT THE SHERIFF'S        68
     VIII      LITTLE JOHN AND THE TANNER OF BLYTH           81
     IX        ROBIN HOOD AND WILL SCARLET                   92
     X         THE ADVENTURE WITH MIDGE, THE MILLER'S SON   102
     Xl        ROBIN HOOD AND ALLAN A DALE                  115
     XII       ROBIN HOOD SEEKS THE CURTAL FRIAR            129
     XIII      ROBIN HOOD COMPASSES A MARRIAGE              145
     XIV       ROBIN HOOD AIDS A SORROWFUL KNIGHT           156
     XV        HOW SIR RICHARD OF THE LEA PAID HIS DEBTS    172
     XVI       LITTLE JOHN TURNS BAREFOOT FRIAR             186
     XVII      ROBIN HOOD TURNS BEGGAR                      202
     XVIII     ROBIN HOOD SHOOTS BEFORE QUEEN ELEANOR       222
     XIX       THE CHASE OF ROBIN HOOD                      243
     XX        ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBOURNE              262
     XXI       KING RICHARD COMES TO SHERWOOD FOREST        281
     EPILOGUE                                     300





How Robin Hood Came to Be an Outlaw

IN MERRY ENGLAND in the time of old, when good King Henry the Second
ruled the land, there lived within the green glades of Sherwood Forest,
near Nottingham Town, a famous outlaw whose name was Robin Hood. No
archer ever lived that could speed a gray goose shaft with such skill
and cunning as his, nor were there ever such yeomen as the sevenscore
merry men that roamed with him through the greenwood shades. Right
merrily they dwelled within the depths of Sherwood Forest, suffering
neither care nor want, but passing the time in merry games of archery or
bouts of cudgel play, living upon the King's venison, washed down with
draughts of ale of October brewing.

Not only Robin himself but all the band were outlaws and dwelled apart
from other men, yet they were beloved by the country people round about,
for no one ever came to jolly Robin for help in time of need and went
away again with an empty fist.

And now I will tell how it came about that Robin Hood fell afoul of the
law.

When Robin was a youth of eighteen, stout of sinew and bold of heart,
the Sheriff of Nottingham proclaimed a shooting match and offered a
prize of a butt of ale to whosoever should shoot the best shaft in
Nottinghamshire. "Now," quoth Robin, "will I go too, for fain would I
draw a string for the bright eyes of my lass and a butt of good October
brewing." So up he got and took his good stout yew bow and a score
or more of broad clothyard arrows, and started off from Locksley Town
through Sherwood Forest to Nottingham.

It was at the dawn of day in the merry Maytime, when hedgerows are green
and flowers bedeck the meadows; daisies pied and yellow cuckoo buds and
fair primroses all along the briery hedges; when apple buds blossom and
sweet birds sing, the lark at dawn of day, the throstle cock and cuckoo;
when lads and lasses look upon each other with sweet thoughts; when busy
housewives spread their linen to bleach upon the bright green grass.
Sweet was the greenwood as he walked along its paths, and bright the
green and rustling leaves, amid which the little birds sang with might
and main: and blithely Robin whistled as he trudged along, thinking of
Maid Marian and her bright eyes, for at such times a youth's thoughts
are wont to turn pleasantly upon the lass that he loves the best.

As thus he walked along with a brisk step and a merry whistle, he came
suddenly upon some foresters seated beneath a great oak tree. Fifteen
there were in all, making themselves merry with feasting and drinking
as they sat around a huge pasty, to which each man helped himself,
thrusting his hands into the pie, and washing down that which they ate
with great horns of ale which they drew all foaming from a barrel that
stood nigh. Each man was clad in Lincoln green, and a fine show they
made, seated upon the sward beneath that fair, spreading tree. Then one
of them, with his mouth full, called out to Robin, "Hulloa, where goest
thou, little lad, with thy one-penny bow and thy farthing shafts?"

Then Robin grew angry, for no stripling likes to be taunted with his
green years.

"Now," quoth he, "my bow and eke mine arrows are as good as shine; and
moreover, I go to the shooting match at Nottingham Town, which same has
been proclaimed by our good Sheriff of Nottinghamshire; there I will
shoot with other stout yeomen, for a prize has been offered of a fine
butt of ale."

Then one who held a horn of ale in his hand said, "Ho! listen to the
lad! Why, boy, thy mother's milk is yet scarce dry upon thy lips, and
yet thou pratest of standing up with good stout men at Nottingham butts,
thou who art scarce able to draw one string of a two-stone bow."

"I'll hold the best of you twenty marks," quoth bold Robin, "that I hit
the clout at threescore rods, by the good help of Our Lady fair."

At this all laughed aloud, and one said, "Well boasted, thou fair
infant, well boasted! And well thou knowest that no target is nigh to
make good thy wager."

And another cried, "He will be taking ale with his milk next."

At this Robin grew right mad. "Hark ye," said he, "yonder, at the
glade's end, I see a herd of deer, even more than threescore rods
distant. I'll hold you twenty marks that, by leave of Our Lady, I cause
the best hart among them to die."

"Now done!" cried he who had spoken first. "And here are twenty marks. I
wager that thou causest no beast to die, with or without the aid of Our
Lady."

Then Robin took his good yew bow in his hand, and placing the tip at
his instep, he strung it right deftly; then he nocked a broad clothyard
arrow and, raising the bow, drew the gray goose feather to his ear; the
next moment the bowstring rang and the arrow sped down the glade as a
sparrowhawk skims in a northern wind. High leaped the noblest hart
of all the herd, only to fall dead, reddening the green path with his
heart's blood.

"Ha!" cried Robin, "how likest thou that shot, good fellow? I wot the
wager were mine, an it were three hundred pounds."

Then all the foresters were filled with rage, and he who had spoken the
first and had lost the wager was more angry than all.

"Nay," cried he, "the wager is none of thine, and get thee gone,
straightway, or, by all the saints of heaven, I'll baste thy sides
until thou wilt ne'er be able to walk again." "Knowest thou not," said
another, "that thou hast killed the King's deer, and, by the laws of
our gracious lord and sovereign King Harry, thine ears should be shaven
close to thy head?"

"Catch him!" cried a third.

"Nay," said a fourth, "let him e'en go because of his tender years."

Never a word said Robin Hood, but he looked at the foresters with a grim
face; then, turning on his heel, strode away from them down the forest
glade. But his heart was bitterly angry, for his blood was hot and
youthful and prone to boil.

Now, well would it have been for him who had first spoken had he left
Robin Hood alone; but his anger was hot, both because the youth had
gotten the better of him and because of the deep draughts of ale that
he had been quaffing. So, of a sudden, without any warning, he sprang to
his feet, and seized upon his bow and fitted it to a shaft. "Ay," cried
he, "and I'll hurry thee anon." And he sent the arrow whistling after
Robin.

It was well for Robin Hood that that same forester's head was spinning
with ale, or else he would never have taken another step. As it was, the
arrow whistled within three inches of his head. Then he turned around
and quickly drew his own bow, and sent an arrow back in return.

"Ye said I was no archer," cried he aloud, "but say so now again!"

The shaft flew straight; the archer fell forward with a cry, and lay on
his face upon the ground, his arrows rattling about him from out of his
quiver, the gray goose shaft wet with his; heart's blood. Then, before
the others could gather their wits about them, Robin Hood was gone into
the depths of the greenwood. Some started after him, but not with much
heart, for each feared to suffer the death of his fellow; so presently
they all came and lifted the dead man up and bore him away to Nottingham
Town.

Meanwhile Robin Hood ran through the greenwood. Gone was all the joy and
brightness from everything, for his heart was sick within him, and it
was borne in upon his soul that he had slain a man.

"Alas!" cried he, "thou hast found me an archer that will make thy wife
to wring! I would that thou hadst ne'er said one word to me, or that
I had never passed thy way, or e'en that my right forefinger had been
stricken off ere that this had happened! In haste I smote, but grieve I
sore at leisure!" And then, even in his trouble, he remembered the old
saw that "What is done is done; and the egg cracked cannot be cured."

And so he came to dwell in the greenwood that was to be his home for
many a year to come, never again to see the happy days with the lads and
lasses of sweet Locksley Town; for he was outlawed, not only because he
had killed a man, but also because he had poached upon the King's deer,
and two hundred pounds were set upon his head, as a reward for whoever
would bring him to the court of the King.

Now the Sheriff of Nottingham swore that he himself would bring this
knave Robin Hood to justice, and for two reasons: first, because he
wanted the two hundred pounds, and next, because the forester that Robin
Hood had killed was of kin to him.

But Robin Hood lay hidden in Sherwood Forest for one year, and in that
time there gathered around him many others like himself, cast out from
other folk for this cause and for that. Some had shot deer in hungry
wintertime, when they could get no other food, and had been seen in the
act by the foresters, but had escaped, thus saving their ears; some had
been turned out of their inheritance, that their farms might be added to
the King's lands in Sherwood Forest; some had been despoiled by a great
baron or a rich abbot or a powerful esquire--all, for one cause or
another, had come to Sherwood to escape wrong and oppression.

So, in all that year, fivescore or more good stout yeomen gathered about
Robin Hood, and chose him to be their leader and chief. Then they vowed
that even as they themselves had been despoiled they would despoil their
oppressors, whether baron, abbot, knight, or squire, and that from each
they would take that which had been wrung from the poor by unjust taxes,
or land rents, or in wrongful fines. But to the poor folk they would
give a helping hand in need and trouble, and would return to them that
which had been unjustly taken from them. Besides this, they swore never
to harm a child nor to wrong a woman, be she maid, wife, or widow; so
that, after a while, when the people began to find that no harm was
meant to them, but that money or food came in time of want to many a
poor family, they came to praise Robin and his merry men, and to tell
many tales of him and of his doings in Sherwood Forest, for they felt
him to be one of themselves.

Up rose Robin Hood one merry morn when all the birds were singing
blithely among the leaves, and up rose all his merry men, each fellow
washing his head and hands in the cold brown brook that leaped laughing
from stone to stone. Then said Robin, "For fourteen days have we seen no
sport, so now I will go abroad to seek adventures forthwith. But tarry
ye, my merry men all, here in the greenwood; only see that ye mind well
my call. Three blasts upon the bugle horn I will blow in my hour of
need; then come quickly, for I shall want your aid."

So saying, he strode away through the leafy forest glades until he
had come to the verge of Sherwood. There he wandered for a long time,
through highway and byway, through dingly dell and forest skirts. Now he
met a fair buxom lass in a shady lane, and each gave the other a merry
word and passed their way; now he saw a fair lady upon an ambling pad,
to whom he doffed his cap, and who bowed sedately in return to the
fair youth; now he saw a fat monk on a pannier-laden ass; now a gallant
knight, with spear and shield and armor that flashed brightly in the
sunlight; now a page clad in crimson; and now a stout burgher from good
Nottingham Town, pacing along with serious footsteps; all these sights
he saw, but adventure found he none. At last he took a road by the
forest skirts, a bypath that dipped toward a broad, pebbly stream
spanned by a narrow bridge made of a log of wood. As he drew nigh this
bridge he saw a tall stranger coming from the other side. Thereupon
Robin quickened his pace, as did the stranger likewise, each thinking to
cross first.

"Now stand thou back," quoth Robin, "and let the better man cross
first."

"Nay," answered the stranger, "then stand back shine own self, for the
better man, I wet, am I."

"That will we presently see," quoth Robin, "and meanwhile stand thou
where thou art, or else, by the bright brow of Saint AElfrida, I will
show thee right good Nottingham play with a clothyard shaft betwixt thy
ribs."

"Now," quoth the stranger, "I will tan thy hide till it be as many
colors as a beggar's cloak, if thou darest so much as touch a string of
that same bow that thou holdest in thy hands."

"Thou pratest like an ass," said Robin, "for I could send this shaft
clean through thy proud heart before a curtal friar could say grace over
a roast goose at Michaelmastide."

"And thou pratest like a coward," answered the stranger, "for thou
standest there with a good yew bow to shoot at my heart, while I have
nought in my hand but a plain blackthorn staff wherewith to meet thee."

"Now," quoth Robin, "by the faith of my heart, never have I had a
coward's name in all my life before. I will lay by my trusty bow and
eke my arrows, and if thou darest abide my coming, I will go and cut a
cudgel to test thy manhood withal."

"Ay, marry, that will I abide thy coming, and joyously, too," quoth the
stranger; whereupon he leaned sturdily upon his staff to await Robin.

Then Robin Hood stepped quickly to the coverside and cut a good staff of
ground oak, straight, without new, and six feet in length, and came back
trimming away the tender stems from it, while the stranger waited for
him, leaning upon his staff, and whistling as he gazed round about.
Robin observed him furtively as he trimmed his staff, measuring him from
top to toe from out the corner of his eye, and thought that he had never
seen a lustier or a stouter man. Tall was Robin, but taller was the
stranger by a head and a neck, for he was seven feet in height. Broad
was Robin across the shoulders, but broader was the stranger by twice
the breadth of a palm, while he measured at least an ell around the
waist.

"Nevertheless," said Robin to himself, "I will baste thy hide right
merrily, my good fellow;" then, aloud, "Lo, here is my good staff,
lusty and tough. Now wait my coming, an thou darest, and meet me an thou
fearest not. Then we will fight until one or the other of us tumble into
the stream by dint of blows."

"Marry, that meeteth my whole heart!" cried the stranger, twirling his
staff above his head, betwixt his fingers and thumb, until it whistled
again.

Never did the Knights of Arthur's Round Table meet in a stouter fight
than did these two. In a moment Robin stepped quickly upon the bridge
where the stranger stood; first he made a feint, and then delivered
a blow at the stranger's head that, had it met its mark, would have
tumbled him speedily into the water. But the stranger turned the blow
right deftly and in return gave one as stout, which Robin also turned as
the stranger had done. So they stood, each in his place, neither moving
a finger's-breadth back, for one good hour, and many blows were given
and received by each in that time, till here and there were sore bones
and bumps, yet neither thought of crying "Enough," nor seemed likely to
fall from off the bridge. Now and then they stopped to rest, and each
thought that he never had seen in all his life before such a hand at
quarterstaff. At last Robin gave the stranger a blow upon the ribs that
made his jacket smoke like a damp straw thatch in the sun. So shrewd was
the stroke that the stranger came within a hair's-breadth of falling off
the bridge, but he regained himself right quickly and, by a dexterous
blow, gave Robin a crack on the crown that caused the blood to flow.
Then Robin grew mad with anger and smote with all his might at the
other. But the stranger warded the blow and once again thwacked Robin,
and this time so fairly that he fell heels over head into the water, as
the queen pin falls in a game of bowls.

"And where art thou now, my good lad?" shouted the stranger, roaring
with laughter.

"Oh, in the flood and floating adown with the tide," cried Robin, nor
could he forbear laughing himself at his sorry plight. Then, gaining his
feet, he waded to the bank, the little fish speeding hither and thither,
all frightened at his splashing.

"Give me thy hand," cried he, when he had reached the bank. "I must
needs own thou art a brave and a sturdy soul and, withal, a good stout
stroke with the cudgels. By this and by that, my head hummeth like to a
hive of bees on a hot June day."

Then he clapped his horn to his lips and winded a blast that went
echoing sweetly down the forest paths. "Ay, marry," quoth he again,
"thou art a tall lad, and eke a brave one, for ne'er, I bow, is there a
man betwixt here and Canterbury Town could do the like to me that thou
hast done."

"And thou," quoth the stranger, laughing, "takest thy cudgeling like a
brave heart and a stout yeoman."

But now the distant twigs and branches rustled with the coming of men,
and suddenly a score or two of good stout yeomen, all clad in Lincoln
green, burst from out the covert, with merry Will Stutely at their head.

"Good master," cried Will, "how is this? Truly thou art all wet from
head to foot, and that to the very skin."

"Why, marry," answered jolly Robin, "yon stout fellow hath tumbled me
neck and crop into the water and hath given me a drubbing beside."

"Then shall he not go without a ducking and eke a drubbing himself!"
cried Will Stutely. "Have at him, lads!"

Then Will and a score of yeomen leaped upon the stranger, but though
they sprang quickly they found him ready and felt him strike right and
left with his stout staff, so that, though he went down with press of
numbers, some of them rubbed cracked crowns before he was overcome.

"Nay, forbear!" cried Robin, laughing until his sore sides ached again.
"He is a right good man and true, and no harm shall befall him. Now
hark ye, good youth, wilt thou stay with me and be one of my band? Three
suits of Lincoln green shalt thou have each year, beside forty marks in
fee, and share with us whatsoever good shall befall us. Thou shalt eat
sweet venison and quaff the stoutest ale, and mine own good right-hand
man shalt thou be, for never did I see such a cudgel player in all my
life before. Speak! Wilt thou be one of my good merry men?"

"That know I not," quoth the stranger surlily, for he was angry at being
so tumbled about. "If ye handle yew bow and apple shaft no better than
ye do oaken cudgel, I wot ye are not fit to be called yeomen in my
country; but if there be any man here that can shoot a better shaft than
I, then will I bethink me of joining with you."

"Now by my faith," said Robin, "thou art a right saucy varlet, sirrah;
yet I will stoop to thee as I never stooped to man before. Good Stutely,
cut thou a fair white piece of bark four fingers in breadth, and set it
fourscore yards distant on yonder oak. Now, stranger, hit that fairly
with a gray goose shaft and call thyself an archer."

"Ay, marry, that will I," answered he. "Give me a good stout bow and a
fair broad arrow, and if I hit it not, strip me and beat me blue with
bowstrings."

Then he chose the stoutest bow among them all, next to Robin's own, and
a straight gray goose shaft, well-feathered and smooth, and stepping
to the mark--while all the band, sitting or lying upon the greensward,
watched to see him shoot--he drew the arrow to his cheek and loosed the
shaft right deftly, sending it so straight down the path that it clove
the mark in the very center. "Aha!" cried he, "mend thou that if thou
canst;" while even the yeomen clapped their hands at so fair a shot.

"That is a keen shot indeed," quoth Robin. "Mend it I cannot, but mar it
I may, perhaps."

Then taking up his own good stout bow and nocking an arrow with care, he
shot with his very greatest skill. Straight flew the arrow, and so
true that it lit fairly upon the stranger's shaft and split it into
splinters. Then all the yeomen leaped to their feet and shouted for joy
that their master had shot so well.

"Now by the lusty yew bow of good Saint Withold," cried the stranger,
"that is a shot indeed, and never saw I the like in all my life before!
Now truly will I be thy man henceforth and for aye. Good Adam Bell(1)
was a fair shot, but never shot he so!"


     (1) Adam Bell, Clym o' the Clough, and William of Cloudesly
     were three noted north-country bowmen whose names have been
     celebrated in many ballads of the olden time.


"Then have I gained a right good man this day," quoth jolly Robin. "What
name goest thou by, good fellow?"

"Men call me John Little whence I came," answered the stranger.

Then Will Stutely, who loved a good jest, spoke up. "Nay, fair little
stranger," said he, "I like not thy name and fain would I have it
otherwise. Little art thou indeed, and small of bone and sinew,
therefore shalt thou be christened Little John, and I will be thy
godfather."

Then Robin Hood and all his band laughed aloud until the stranger began
to grow angry.

"An thou make a jest of me," quoth he to Will Stutely, "thou wilt have
sore bones and little pay, and that in short season."

"Nay, good friend," said Robin Hood, "bottle thine anger, for the name
fitteth thee well. Little John shall thou be called henceforth, and
Little John shall it be. So come, my merry men, we will prepare a
christening feast for this fair infant."

So turning their backs upon the stream, they plunged into the forest
once more, through which they traced their steps till they reached the
spot where they dwelled in the depths of the woodland. There had they
built huts of bark and branches of trees, and made couches of sweet
rushes spread over with skins of fallow deer. Here stood a great oak
tree with branches spreading broadly around, beneath which was a seat of
green moss where Robin Hood was wont to sit at feast and at merrymaking
with his stout men about him. Here they found the rest of the band, some
of whom had come in with a brace of fat does. Then they all built great
fires and after a time roasted the does and broached a barrel of humming
ale. Then when the feast was ready they all sat down, but Robin placed
Little John at his right hand, for he was henceforth to be the second in
the band.

Then when the feast was done Will Stutely spoke up. "It is now time, I
ween, to christen our bonny babe, is it not so, merry boys?" And "Aye!
Aye!" cried all, laughing till the woods echoed with their mirth.

"Then seven sponsors shall we have," quoth Will Stutely, and hunting
among all the band, he chose the seven stoutest men of them all.

"Now by Saint Dunstan," cried Little John, springing to his feet, "more
than one of you shall rue it an you lay finger upon me."

But without a word they all ran upon him at once, seizing him by his
legs and arms and holding him tightly in spite of his struggles, and
they bore him forth while all stood around to see the sport. Then one
came forward who had been chosen to play the priest because he had a
bald crown, and in his hand he carried a brimming pot of ale. "Now, who
bringeth this babe?" asked he right soberly.

"That do I," answered Will Stutely.

"And what name callest thou him?"

"Little John call I him."

"Now Little John," quoth the mock priest, "thou hast not lived
heretofore, but only got thee along through the world, but henceforth
thou wilt live indeed. When thou livedst not thou wast called John
Little, but now that thou dost live indeed, Little John shalt thou be
called, so christen I thee." And at these last words he emptied the pot
of ale upon Little John's head.

Then all shouted with laughter as they saw the good brown ale stream
over Little John's beard and trickle from his nose and chin, while his
eyes blinked with the smart of it. At first he was of a mind to be angry
but found he could not, because the others were so merry; so he, too,
laughed with the rest. Then Robin took this sweet, pretty babe, clothed
him all anew from top to toe in Lincoln green, and gave him a good stout
bow, and so made him a member of the merry band.

And thus it was that Robin Hood became outlawed; thus a band of merry
companions gathered about him, and thus he gained his right-hand man,
Little John; and so the prologue ends. And now I will tell how the
Sheriff of Nottingham three times sought to take Robin Hood, and how he
failed each time.




Robin Hood and the Tinker

Now it was told before how two hundred pounds were set upon Robin Hood's
head, and how the Sheriff of Nottingham swore that he himself would
seize Robin, both because he would fain have the two hundred pounds and
because the slain man was a kinsman of his own. Now the Sheriff did not
yet know what a force Robin had about him in Sherwood, but thought that
he might serve a warrant for his arrest as he could upon any other man
that had broken the laws; therefore he offered fourscore golden angels
to anyone who would serve this warrant. But men of Nottingham Town knew
more of Robin Hood and his doings than the Sheriff did, and many laughed
