The large volume of Robin Hood stories by Pyle should be in the hands of the teacher, if possible, although it is an expensive book. It is much fuller in the special details of the stories needed by the teacher, though the smaller book is far better adapted as a reading book for schools.
To illustrate the place which the Robin Hood legends hold in English history and literature, the following selections, quoted from Tennyson's "The Foresters" and one of the old ballads, are given. They are taken from "English History told by English Poets," published by The Macmillan Company, where the passage from "The Foresters" is given at greater length.
KING RICHARD IN SHERWOOD FOREST
Lord Tennyson
(From "The Foresters")
Robin Hood and Maid Marian, Friar Tuck and George-a-Green, Will Scarlet, Midge the Miller's Son, Little John, and the rest are legendary characters loved and sung from the fourteenth century to modern times. The charm of these light-hearted highwaymen was felt by Shakespeare himself: "They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him: and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England; they say many young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world."—("As You Like It," I, I.) Tennyson adopts the tradition that the generous outlaws dwelt in Sherwood Forest in Cumberlandshire, and that their leader, Robin Hood, was the banished Earl of Huntingdon. The plot of the "The Foresters" turns upon the sudden return of Richard from his Austrian captivity and the consequent collapse of the intrigues conducted by his crafty and cruel brother John.
Robin Hood. Am I worse or better?
I am outlaw'd. I am none the worse for that
I held for Richard and I hated John.
I am a thief, ay, and a king of thieves.
Ay! but we rob the robber, wrong the wronger,
And what we wring from them we give the poor.
I am none the worse for that, and all the better
For this free forest-life, for while I sat
Among my thralls in my baronial hall
The groining hid the heavens; but since I breathed,
A houseless head beneath the sun and stars,
The soul of the woods hath stricken thro' my blood,
The love of freedom, the desire of God,
The hope of larger life hereafter, more
Tenfold than under roof.
True, were I taken
They would prick out my sight. A price is set
On this poor head; but I believe there lives
No man who truly loves and truly rules
His following, but can keep his followers true.
I am one with mine. Traitors are rarely bred
Save under traitor kings. Our vice-king John,
True king of vice—true play on words—our John,
By his Norman arrogance and dissoluteness,
Hath made me king of all the discontent
Of England up thro' all the forest land
North to the Tyne: being outlaw'd in a land
Where law lies dead, we make ourselves the law.
King Richard (to Robin). My good friend Robin, Earl of Huntingdon,
For Earl thou art again, hast thou no fetters
For those of thine own band who would betray thee?
Robin. I have; but these were never worn as yet,
I never found one traitor in my band.
Our forest games are ended, our free life,
And we must hence to the King's court. I trust
We shall return to the wood. Meanwhile, farewell
Old friends, old patriarch oaks. A thousand winters
Will strip you bare as death, a thousand summers
Robe you life-green again. You seem, as it were,
Immortal, and we mortal. How few Junes
Will heat our pulses quicker! How few frosts
Will chill the hearts that beat for Robin Hood!