“O what is the matter?” then said the Bishop,
“Or for whom do you make this a-do?
Or why do you kill the King’s venison,
When your company is so few?”
“We are shepherds,” quoth bold Robin Hood,
“And we keep sheep all the year,
And we are disposed to be merrie this day,
And to kill of the King’s fat deer.”
Not many days after Sir Richard of the Lea came to Sherwood Forest, word reached Robin Hood’s ears that my lord Bishop of Hereford would be riding that way betimes on that morning. ‘Twas Arthur-a-Bland, the knight’s quondam esquire, who brought the tidings, and Robin’s face brightened as he heard it.
“Now, by our Lady!” quoth he, “I have long desired to entertain my lord in the greenwood, and this is too fair a chance to let slip. Come, my men, kill me a venison; kill me a good fat deer. The Bishop of Hereford is to dine with me today, and he shall pay well for his cheer.”
“Shall we dress it here, as usual?” asked Much, the miller’s son.
“Nay, we play a droll game on the churchman. We will dress it by the highway side, and watch for the Bishop narrowly, lest he should ride some other way.”
So Robin gave his orders, and the main body of his men dispersed to different parts of the forest, under Will Stutely and Little John, to watch other roads; while Robin Hood himself took six of his men, including Will Scarlet, and Much, and posted himself in full view of the main road. This little company appeared funny enough, I assure you, for they had disguised themselves as shepherds. Robin had an old wool cap, with a tail to it, hanging over his ear, and a shock of hair stood straight up through a hole in the top. Besides there was so much dirt on his face that you would never have known him. An old tattered cloak over his hunter’s garb completed his make-up. The others were no less ragged and unkempt, even the foppish Will Scarlet being so badly run down at the heel that the court ladies would hardly have had speech with him.
They quickly provided themselves with a deer and made great preparations to cook it over a small fire, when a little dust was seen blowing along the highway, and out of it came the portly Bishop cantering along with ten men-at-arms at his heels. As soon as he saw the fancied shepherds he spurred up his horse, and came straight toward them.
“Who are ye, fellows, who make so free with the King’s deer?” he asked sharply.
“We are shepherds,” answered Robin Hood, pulling at his forelock awkwardly.
“Heaven have mercy! Ye seem a sorry lot of shepherds. But who gave you leave to cease eating mutton?”