ROBIN HOOD’S GOLDEN PRIZE.
“There were many days in which the outlaws of Sherwood scarcely knew how to pass away their time. They often grew tired of their easy and careless life, and longed for an adventure where more active exertions would be required. Robin Hood, especially, could ill brook the monotony of a forester’s life. He was ever bent upon some enterprise, either by himself alone, or with the assistance of his followers; and rarely a week passed but that the bold captain threw a good store of gold into his treasury. One day he disguised himself in the dress of a friar. A long dark-coloured gown completely covered his green doublet, and a large cowl over his head nearly concealed his features. His waist was girt round with a white woollen rope, from which were suspended a string of beads and an ivory crucifix. Thus attired, with a staff in his hand, he took the high road, and trudged on merrily. The first persons he met were, an honest husbandman, clad in tattered garments, carrying a chubby boy in his arms, and his wife, with an infant, following mournfully in his steps. Robin Hood stopped them, inquired the cause of their grief, and learned that their cottage had been burned down by a party of marauders, and that they were then on their way to Nottingham, where the poor man hoped to obtain employment.
“The seeming priest, moved with compassion at their forlorn state, drew forth a broad piece of gold and gave it to the wanderers, who ever after blessed the day they met the generous friar.
“Robin Hood walked on nearly a mile farther without meeting a single traveller, when at last he espied two monks in black gowns coming towards him, riding upon mules.
“‘Benedicite,’ said Robin Hood meekly, as they drew near him; ‘I pray ye, holy brethren, have pity upon a poor wandering friar, who has neither broken bread nor drank of the cup this day.’
“‘We are grieved, good brother,’ replied one of the monks, ‘we have not so much as a penny. Robbers met us on the way, who have stripped us of all our gold.’
“‘I fear thou tellest not the truth,’ returned the friar. ‘Wherefore did they leave ye those beasts?’
“‘Now by’r lady,’ cried the second monk, ‘thou art an insolent fellow,’ and pushing on their mules he and his companion galloped off. The outlaw laughed at their precipitate decampment, then starting off at his best speed, he soon overtook them. ‘Brethren,’ he cried, as one after the other he pulled them from their saddles, ‘since we have no money, let us pray to our dear lady to send us some;’ and falling on his knees he made the monks kneel down beside him. The old ballad says
“‘The priests did pray, with mournful cheer,
Sometimes their hands did wring,
Sometimes they wept and cried aloud,
Whilst Robin did merrily sing.’
“After some time thus spent, the outlaw rose. ‘Now, my brethren,’ quoth he, ‘let us see what money has been sent us—we will all share alike;’ and putting his hand in his pocket he pulled forth twenty pieces of gold, and laid them on the grass. The monks fumbled a long time amid their garments, but could find nothing.
“‘Let me search,’ cried the friar; ‘perchance ye have not hit upon the right pocket.’ The monks reluctantly consented, and presently the outlaw drew forth two purses, and counted out five hundred golden crowns.
“‘Here is a brave show,’ said Robin Hood,
‘Such store of gold to see;
And ye shall each of ye have a part
’Cause you prayed so heartily.’
“He then gave them back each fifty pieces, which the monks eagerly seized, and running to the side of their mules they were about to ride off. ‘Stay,’ cried the outlaw; ‘two things ye must swear: first—that ye will never tell lies again; and secondly—that ye will be charitable to the poor.’ The priests fell on their knees and gave the required promise to Robin Hood, and then
“‘He set them on their beasts again,
And away then they did ride;
And he returned to the merry green-wood
With great joy, mirth, and pride.’”
“Can you remember the whole of any ballad?” asked one of my hearers. “If you could I should like very much to hear it.”
“And so should I.”—“And I.”—“And I.”—cried two or three other voices.
“I fear there will be some parts that you will scarcely understand,” I replied; “but as you wish it, you shall hear of