“Forsooth—and so I am!” exclaimed Sir Pertinax. “Ha—yet am I still a man, and therefore—”
“Wait, my lord!” said Benedicta. “Robin, give me thy sword!” So she took the weapon and motioning Robin to his knees, set the blade across his shoulder. “Robin a' Green,” said she, “since thou art knightly of word and deed, knight shalt thou be in very truth. Sir Robin a' Forest I make thee and warden over this our forest country. Rise up, Sir Robert.” Then up sprang Robin, bright-eyed and flushed of cheek.
“Dear my lady,” cried he, “since knight hast made me, thy knight will I be henceforth in life or in death—” But here his voice was lost in the joyous acclamations of his followers who shouted amain until the Duchess quelled them with lifted hand.
“Ye men of the wild-wood,” said she, looking round upon them gentle-eyed, “all ye that be homeless and desolate, lying without the law, this day joy hath found me, for this is my wedding-morn. And as I am happy I would see ye happy also. Therefore upon this glad day do we make proclamation, my Lord Duke and I—this day we lift from you each and every, the ban of outlawry—free men are ye to go and come as ye list—free men one and all and good citizens henceforth I pray!” Now here was silence awhile, then a hoarse murmur, swelling to a jubilant shout until the sunny woodland rang with the joy of it, near and far.
“And now, Sir Robert,” laughed the Duchess, “pray you where is this noble Fool, this gentle Motley, this most rare singer of songs and breaker of lances? Bid him to us.”
“Ha—the Fool!” exclaimed Sir Pertinax, starting.
“My lady,” answered Robin, “true, he was here, but when I sought him, a while since, there was Sir Palamon's armour he had worn, but himself gone —”
“Gone—gone say'st thou?” cried Sir Pertinax, glancing about. “Then needs must I go seek him—”
“And wherefore, my lord?” cried the Duchess.
“'T is my—my duty, Melissa!” stammered Sir Pertinax. “He is my—my friend and—sworn brother-in-arms!”