The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood

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

 How Robin Hood Came To Be An Outlaw
 Robin Hood And The Tinker
 The Shooting Match At Nottingham Town
 Will Stutely Rescued By His Companions
 Robin Hood Turns Butcher
 Little John Goes To Nottingham Fair
 How Little John Lived At The Sheriff's
 Little John And The Tanner Of Blyth
 Robin Hood And Will Scarlet
 The Adventure With Midge, The Miller's Son
 Robin Hood And Allan A Dale
 Robin Hood Seeks The Curtal Friar
 Robin Hood Compasses A Marriage
 Robin Hood Aids A Sorrowful Knight
 How Sir Richard Of The Lea Paid His Debts
 Little John Turns Barefoot Friar
 Robin Hood Turns Beggar
 Robin Hood Shoots Before Queen Eleanor
 The Chase Of Robin Hood
 Robin Hood And Guy Of Gisbourne
 King Richard Comes To Sherwood Forest
 Epilogue




PROLOGUE

Giving an account of Robin Hood and his adventure with the King's
Foresters. Also telling how his band gathered around him, and of the
merry adventure that gained him his good right hand man, the famous
Little John.



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."