“Have it as you will,” said the Bishop, “but here comes the party now.”
Then up the lane to the church came the old knight, preceded by ten archers liveried in scarlet and gold. A brave sight the archers made, but their master walked slowly leaning upon a cane and shaking as though in a palsy.
And after them came a sweet lass leaning upon her brother’s arm. Her hair did shine like glistering gold, and her eyes were like blue violets that peep out shyly at the sun. The color came and went in her cheeks like that tinting of a sea-shell, and her face was flushed as though she had been weeping. But now she walked with a proud air, as though she defied the world to crush her spirit. She had but two maids with her, finikin lasses, with black eyes and broad bosoms, who set off their lady’s more delicate beauty well. One held up the bride’s gown from the ground; the other carried flowers in plenty.
“Now by all the wedding bells that ever were rung!” quoth Robin boldly, “this is the worst matched pair that ever mine eyes beheld!”
“Silence, miscreant!” said a man who stood near.
The Bishop had hurriedly donned his gown and now stood ready to meet the couple at the chancel.
But Robin paid no heed to him. He let the knight and his ten archers pass by, then he strode up to the bride, and placed himself on the other side from her brother.
“Courage, lady!” he whispered, “there is another minstrel near, who mayhap may play more to your liking.”
The lady glanced at him with a frightened air, but read such honesty and kindness in his glance that she brightened and gave him a grateful look.
“Stand aside, fool!” cried the brother wrathfully.