Part 33 (1/2)

The sinking sun had set the West aflame, When our three riders to the wild-wood came, Where a small wind 'mid sun-kissed branches played, And deep'ning shadows a soft twilight made; Where, save for leafy stirrings, all was still, Lulled by the murmur of a bubbling rill That flowed o'ershadowed by a mighty oak, Its ma.s.sy bole deep-cleft by lightning stroke. Here Robin checked his steed. ”Good friends,” quoth he,

My daughter Gillian suggesteth:

Gill: That's rather good, But, still, I should In prose prefer the rest; For if this fytte Has love in it, Prose is for love the best.

All ord'nary lovers, as every one knows, Make love to each other much better in prose.

If, at last, our Sir Pertinax means to propose, Why then--just to please me, Father, prose let it be.

Myself: Very well, I agree!

Then said Robin, quoth he: ”Good friends, here are we safe!” And, checking his steed within this pleasant shade, he dismounted.

”Safe, quotha?” said Sir Pertinax, scowling back over shoulder. ”Not so!

Surely we are close pursued--hark! Yonder be hors.e.m.e.n riding at speed--ha, we are beset!”

”Content you, sir!” answered Robin. ”Think you I would leave behind good booty? Yonder come ten n.o.ble coursers laden with ten goodly armours the same won a-jousting to-day by this right wondrous Fool, my good gossip--”

”Thy gossip, forsooth!” snorted Sir Pertinax. ”But tell me, presumptuous fellow, how shall these ten steeds come a-galloping hither!”

”Marry, on this wise, Sir Simple Innocence--these steeds do gallop for sufficient reason, namely--they are to gallop bidden being ridden, bestridden and chidden by whip and spur applied by certain trusty men o' my company, which men go habited, decked, dressed, clad, guised and disguised as smug, sleek citizens, Sir Innocent Simplicity--”

”Par Dex!” exclaimed Sir Pertinax, scowling. ”And who 'rt thou, sirrah, with men at thy beck and call?”

”Behold!” said Robin, unhelming. ”Behold the king of all masterless rogues, and thy fellow gallow's-bird, Sir High Mightiness!”

”Ha, is 't thou?” cried Sir Pertinax. ”Now a plague on thy kingdom and thee for an unhanged, thieving rogue--”

”E'en as thyself,” nodded Robin, ”thou that flaunted thy unlovely carca.s.s in stolen armour.”

”Ha!” roared Sir Pertinax, clapping hand on sword. ”A pest--a murrain! This to me, thou dog's-meat? Malediction! Now will I crack thy numbskull for a pestilent malapert--”

”Nay, Sir Grim-and-gory,” laughed Robin, ”rather will I now use thee as thou would'st ha' served me on a day but for this generous and kindly Fool, my good comrade!” And speaking, Robin sprang nimbly to the great oak tree and thrusting long arm within the jagged fissure that gaped therein drew forth a hunting-horn and winded it loud and shrill. And presently was a stir, a rustle amid the surrounding brushwood and all about them were outlaws, wild men and fierce of aspect, and each and every grasped long-bow with arrow on string and every arrow was aimed at scowling Sir Pertinax.

”Per Dex!” quoth he, ”and is this death, then?”

”Verily!” nodded Robin, ”an I do speak the word.”

”So be it--speak!” growled Sir Pertinax. ”Come, Death--I fear thee not!”

And out flashed his long sword; but even then it was twisted from his grasp and Lobkyn Lollo, tossing the great blade aloft and, catching it very neatly, laughed and spake:

”Five times, five times ten Are we, all l.u.s.ty men.

An hundred twice and fifty deaths are we, So, an Rob speak, dead thou 'lt as often be.”

”Nay, hold a while, sweet lads!” laughed Robin, ”the surly rogue shall sing for his life and our good pleasaunce.”

”Sing?” roared Sir Pertinax. ”I sing! I? Ha, dare ye bid me so, base dog?

Sing, forsooth? By Og and Gog! By the Seven Champions and all the fiends, rather will I die!” And here, being defenceless, Sir Pertinax clenched mighty fists and swore until he lacked for breath.

Then spake Jocelyn, gentle-voiced.