ROBIN HOOD AND THE FRIAR.
“Upon the next morning, ere the sun had risen above the horizon, Robin Hood started from his couch, and armed himself. He put on his helmet and breast-plate, he took up his good broadsword, his long tried buckler, and his trustiest bow, and then placing his bugle-horn to his lips, he played so loud a réveille that his men, frightened from their slumbers, seized their nearest weapons, as if an army had appeared against them. A few gentler notes made them remember the appointed time, and soon fifty bold youths attended the summons of their master. He bade them hasten to Fountains’ Dale by the shortest path, but on no account to show themselves till he had sounded three blasts upon his bugle; and with a light foot and merry heart he sprang into his horse’s saddle, and set out to encounter the renowned friar.
“This friar, whose fame was spread far and wide, had once been an inmate and one of the brethren of Fountains’ Abbey, but his irregular course of life and lawless pursuits had brought down upon him the wrath of the superior, and he had been expelled. Friar Tuck, so was he called, bore his disgrace boldly; he immediately retired to the forests, and there built himself a rude hut of the large stones with which the country abounded, thatching it with branches of trees. There he lived in solitude, gaining from the country people, who frequently came to him for religious consolation, a character of the greatest sanctity. The friar took care to turn this to his advantage, and many were the presents of butter, milk, and sometimes of a more enlivening liquid, that he received. But these did not constitute his chief means of livelihood; early in the morning the friar had more than once been seen with a good long bow in his hand, and a quiver of arrows at his side, and a report had gone abroad that few could equal him in the use of this favourite weapon.
“The friar was a tall burly man, at least six feet high, with a broad expanded chest, and a muscular arm that the sturdiest blacksmith might have been proud of. He usually wore a dark mulberry coloured cloak that reached nearly to his ancles, and girded it with a black woollen rope, the two ends of which hung down before him, about half a yard in length. On the morning upon which Robin Hood had determined to discover him, from some unaccountable reason friar Tuck had put a steel cap upon his head, and a corslet upon his breast, and with his long oaken staff in his hand had rambled to the margin of the fair river Skell, where he stood gazing steadfastly upon the waves, as they rippled by. Presently he heard the sound of a horse’s step, and turning, he beheld within a few feet of him an armed horseman. The stranger quickly dismounted, and fastening his steed by his bridle, to the branch of a tree, advanced towards him.
“‘Art thou the Friar of Fountains’ Abbey?’ he asked, when each had regarded the other in silence for a short space.
“‘They that speak of me call me so,’ replied the priest; ‘why dost thou seek me?’
“‘Carry me over this stream, thou burly friar, and I will tell thee,’ replied Robin Hood. The priest, without a word, tucked up his garments to the waist, took the daring outlaw upon his back, and gravely waded across the stream. Robin Hood leaped off lightly upon the opposite bank.
“‘Now do thou carry me back, thou gay gallant,’ said the friar. The outlaw stooped, took him upon his shoulders, and with great difficulty bore his weighty burden across.
“‘Now by my faith thou’rt double the weight that I am,’ cried Robin Hood as the priest alighted, ‘and I’ll have two rides to thy one.’ The friar did not answer, but taking up the merry forester again, bore him to the middle of the stream, and bending down, pitched him headlong into the water.
“‘Choose thee, my fine fellow, whether thou’lt sink or swim!’ he said; ‘a morning bath will do thine health good.’ Robin Hood scrambled to the bank, fitted an arrow to his bow, and let it fly at the treacherous friar; but the wet had sodden both the bow-string and the feathers of the shaft, and it flew far wide. The priest not wishing to stand a second trial, flourished his staff and knocked the bow from the grasp of the forester, who quickly drew his sword and retaliated by severely wounding his vigorous opponent upon the shoulder. The friar at this grew wrathful, and returned a most terrible thwack upon the outlaw’s head. Blow followed upon blow; now the thick oaken staff beat down the less weighty but more deadly weapon, and again the sharp edge of the sword drank blood. They fought thus for more than an hour, and each began to weary of such warm work before breakfast.
“‘A boon, a boon,’ cried Robin Hood, retiring from the contest. ‘Give me leave to sound three blasts upon my bugle-horn.’
ROBIN HOOD & THE FRIAR
J. Gilbert
“‘Blow till thy cheeks crack,’ returned the friar. ‘Think’st thou I fear a bugle blast?’ The outlaw sounded the horn thrice, so loudly that the friar clapped his hands to his ears, and beat a retreat for several yards. The signal was immediately returned, and apparently from close at hand. In two minutes more a tall yeoman leaped from the adjacent wood, and followed by fifty young foresters, with bows ready in their hands, ran to the side of their commander.
“‘Whose men are these?’ asked the friar, greatly surprised at this sudden reinforcement.
“‘They’re Robin Hood’s bold foresters,’ said the outlaw; ‘and I am Robin Hood. Wilt join our merry troop? Thou’rt the bravest friar that e’er wore cowl, and if thou canst let fly an arrow as well as thou canst wield a quarter-staff, thou’rt a match for my boldest man.’
“‘Let’s have a bout,’ said friar Tuck, unwilling to fight against such odds as were opposed to him. ‘If there’s an archer here that can beat me at the long-bow, I’ll be thy man. If I’m the best, swear that thou wilt leave me free in mine own woods.’
“‘Agreed!’ cried the outlaw. ‘Stand forth, brave Little John, and for the credit of Robin Hood choose thy truest shaft.’
“‘Ne’er fear me,’ replied the tall forester, as he carelessly advanced. ‘Shoot on, my brave fellow, and at what mark you may, only for St. Hubert’s sake, let it be some five hundred feet or so from us.’
“‘Seest thou yon bird?’ said the friar, pointing to a hawk that, with fluttering wings, hovered at a considerable height above a neighbouring brake. ‘I will kill it. If thou canst strike it again ere it reaches the earth, I’ll say thou art a better man than friar Tuck.’ Drawing an arrow from his quiver, with apparent ease he shot the ill-fated bird, which instantly fell to the earth, but not before a second shaft had transfixed its body. A young forester darted away, and quickly returned with the prize, when it appeared that the friar’s arrow had pinioned the hawk’s wings to its sides, and that Little John’s had pierced through from its breast to its back.
“‘Well done, my brave archers,’ cried the outlaws’ chief; ‘there’s many a bowman in merry England would give his best weapon to shoot like ye. What says my gallant friar? will he keep his promise?’
‘What I have said, that will I do,’ replied the priest; ‘but first I must return to my hut, and possess myself of its valuable contents.’ Robin Hood offered to accompany him, and dismissing his followers, he and the friar by turns rode upon the horse, first to the hut and then to the green woods of Sherwood.