Robin Hood And Guy Of Gisborne Part 2

Hey Sound Sleepers, we are back to continue our adventure of Robin Hood and Little John in part two of Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne. If you haven't yet heard part one...well, I would recommend you start there!

Can't wait to hear from you. I love to read all the reviews. Thanks so much for listening!

Transcript

Robin Hood of Gisborne.

Little John walked on his way through the forest paths until he had come to the outskirts of the woodlands,

Where here and there fields of barley,

Corn,

Or green meadowlands lay smiling in the sun.

So he came to the high road and to where a little thatched cottage stood back of a cluster of twisted crab trees,

With flowers in front of it.

Here he stopped of a sudden,

For he thought that he heard the sound of someone in sorrow.

He listened and found that it came from the cottage.

So turning his footsteps thither,

He pushed open the wicket and entered the place.

There he saw a grey-haired dame sitting beside a cold hearthstone,

Rocking herself to and fro and weeping bitterly.

Now little John had a tender heart for the sorrows of other folk.

So coming to the old woman and patting her kindly upon the shoulder,

He spoke comforting words to her,

Bidding her cheer up and tell him her troubles,

For that mayhap he might do something to ease them.

At all this the good dame shook her head,

But all the same his kind words did soothe her somewhat.

So after a while she told him all that bore upon her mind,

That that morning she had three as fair,

Tall suns beside her as one could find in all Nottinghamshire,

But that they were now taken from her and were like to be hanged straightway,

That want having come upon them,

Her eldest boy had gone out the night before into the forest and had slain a hind in the moonlight,

That the king's rangers had followed the blood upon the grass until they had come to her cottage and had there found the deer's meat in the cupboard,

That as neither of the younger boys would betray their brother,

The foresters had taken all three away,

In spite of the oldest saying that he alone had slain the deer,

That as they went she had heard the rangers talking among themselves,

Saying that the sheriff had sworn that he would put a check upon the great slaughter of deer that had been going on of late by hanging the very first rogue caught thereat upon the nearest tree,

And that they would take the three youths to the king's head inn near Nottingham town where the sheriff was abiding that day,

There to await the return of a certain fellow he had sent into Sherwood to seek for Robin Hood.

To all this little John listened,

Shaking his head sadly.

Now and alas,

Quoth he,

When the good dame had finished her speech,

This is indeed an ill case,

But who is this goeth into Sherwood after Robin Hood,

And why doth he go to seek him?

But no matter for that now,

Only that I would that Robin Hood were here to advise us.

Nevertheless,

No time may be lost in sending for him at this hour.

If we would save the lives of thy three sons,

Tell me,

Hast thou any clothes whereabouts that I may put on in place of these of Lincoln Green?

Mary,

If our stout sheriff catcheth me without disguise,

I am like to be run up more quickly than thy sons.

Let me tell thee,

Dame.

" Then the old woman told him that she had in the house some of the clothes of her good husband,

Who had died only two years before.

These she brought to little John,

Who doffing his garb of Lincoln Green,

Put them on in its stead.

Then,

Making a wig and false beard of uncarded wool,

He covered his own brown hair and beard,

Putting on a great tall hat that had belonged to the old peasant.

He took his staff in one hand and his bow in the other,

And set forth with all speed to where the sheriff had taken up his inn.

A mile or more from Nottingham Town,

And not far from the southern borders of Sherwood Forest,

Stood the cosy inn bearing the sign of the king's head.

Here was a great bustle and stir on this bright morning,

For the sheriff and a score of his men had come to stop there and await Guy of Gisborne's return from the forest.

Great hiss and fuss of cooking was going on in the kitchen,

And great rapping and tapping of wine kegs and beer barrels was going on in the cellar.

The sheriff sat within,

Feasting merrily of the best the place afforded,

And the sheriff's men sat upon the bench before the door,

Quaffing ale or lay beneath the shade of the broad spreading oak trees,

Talking and jesting and laughing.

All around stood the horses of the band,

Great noise of stamping feet,

And a great switching of tails.

To this inn came the king's rangers,

Driving the widow's three sons before them.

The hands of the three youths were tied tightly behind their backs,

And a cord from neck to neck fastened them all together.

So they were marched to the room where the sheriff sat at meet,

And stood trembling before him as he scowled sternly upon them.

So quoth he in a great,

Loud,

Angry voice,

Ye have been poaching upon the king's deer,

Have you?

Now I will make short work of you this day,

For I will hang up all three of you,

As a farmer would hang up three crows,

To scare others of the king,

Of the kind,

From the field.

Our fair county of Nottingham hath been too long a breeding place for such naughty knaves as ye are.

I have put up with these things for many years,

But now I will stamp them out once and for all,

And with you I will begin.

One of the poor fellows opened his mouth to speak,

But the sheriff roared at him in a loud voice to be silent,

And bade the rangers to take them away till he had done his eating,

And could attend to the matters concerning them.

So the three poor youths were marched outside,

Where they stood with bowed heads and despairing hearts,

Till after a while the sheriff came forth.

Then he called his men about him,

And quoth he,

These three villains shall be hanged straightway,

But not here,

Lest they breed ill luck to this goodly inn.

We will take them over yonder to that belt of woodlands,

For I would fain hang them upon the very trees of Sherwood itself,

To show those vile outlaws therein what they may expect of me,

If I ever have the good luck to lay hands upon them.

So saying,

He mounted his horse,

As did his men-at-arms likewise,

And all together they set forth for the belt of woodlands he had spoken of,

The poor youths walking in their midst guarded by the rangers.

So they came at last to the spot,

And here nooses were fastened round the necks of the three,

And the ends of the cords flung over the branch of a great oak tree that stood there.

Then the three youths fell upon their knees,

And loudly besought mercy of the sheriff,

But the sheriff of Nottingham laughed scornfully.

Now,

Quoth he,

I would that I had a priest here to shrive you,

But,

As none is nigh,

You must aim travel your road with all your sins pecked upon your backs,

And trust to St.

Peter,

That let you in through the gates of Paradise like three peddlers into town.

In the meantime,

While all this had been going forward,

An old man had drawn near,

And stood leaning on his staff looking on.

His hair and beard were all curly and white,

And across his back was a bow of yew that looked much too strong for him to draw.

As the sheriff looked around,

E'er he ordered his men to string the three youths up to the oak tree.

His eyes fell upon the strange old man.

Then his worship beckoned him,

Saying,

Come hither,

Father,

I have a few words to say to thee.

So little John,

For it was none other than he,

Came forward,

And the sheriff looked upon him,

Thinking that there was something strangely familiar in the face before him.

How now,

Said he,

Methinks I have seen thee before.

What may thy name be,

Father?

Please your worship,

Said little John,

In a cracked voice like that of an old man.

My name is Guile Zobble,

At your worship's service.

Guile Zobble,

Guile Zobble,

Muttered the sheriff to himself,

Turning over the names that he had in his mind,

To try to find the one to fit to this.

I remember not thy name,

Said he at last,

But it matters not.

Hast thou a mind to earn six pence this bright morn?

Ay,

Merry,

Quoth little John,

For money is not so plenty with me,

That I should cast six pence away,

And I could earn it by an honest turn.

What is it your worship would have me do?

Why this,

Said the sheriff,

Here are three men that need hanging as badly as any heir I saw.

If thou wilt string them up,

I will pay thee two pence apiece for them.

I like not that my men-at-arms should turn hangmen.

Wilt thou try thy hand?

Ensooth,

Said little John,

Still in an old man's voice,

I never had done such a thing before,

But anna six pence is to be earned,

So easily I might as well have it as anybody.

But your worship,

Are these naughty fellows shrived?

Ay,

Said the sheriff,

Laughing,

Never wit,

But thou mayst turn thy hand to that also,

If thou art so minded.

But hasten,

I pray thee,

For I would get back to mine in betimes.

So little John came to where the three youths stood trembling,

Putting his face to the first fellow's cheek.

As though he were listening to him,

He whispered softly into his ear,

Stand still,

Brother,

When thou feelest thy bonds cut,

But when thou seest me,

Throw my woolen wig and beard from my head and face,

Cast the noose from thy neck,

And run for the woodlands.

Then he slyly cut the cord that bound the youth's hands,

Who upon his part stood still as though he were yet bound.

Then he went to the second fellow,

And spoke to him in the same way,

And also cut his bonds.

This he did to the third likewise,

But all so slyly that the sheriff,

Who sat upon his horse laughing,

Wadded not what was being done,

Nor his men either.

Then little John turned to the sheriff.

Is your worship,

Will you give me leave to string my bow,

For I would fain help these fellows along the way,

When they are swinging,

With an arrow beneath the ribs,

With all my art,

Said the sheriff.

Only as I said before,

Make thou haste in thy doings.

Little John put the tip of his bow to his instep,

And strung the weapon so deftly that all wondered to see an old man so strong.

Next he drew a good smooth arrow from his quiver,

And fitted it to the string.

Then,

Looking all around to see the way was clear behind him,

He suddenly cast away the wool from his head and face,

Shouting in a mighty voice,

Run!

Quick as a flash the three youths flung the nooses from their necks and sped across the open to the woodlands.

As the arrow speeds from the bow,

Little John also flew toward the covert like a greyhound,

While the sheriff and his men gazed after him,

All bewildered with the sudden doing.

After him!

He roared from a mighty voice,

For he knew now who it was with whom he had been talking,

And wondered that he had not known him before.

Little John heard the sheriff's words,

And seeing that he could not hope to reach the woodlands before they would be upon him,

He stopped and turned suddenly,

Holding his bow as though he were about to shoot.

Stand back!

Be fiercely,

The first man that cometh a foot forward,

Or toucheth finger to bow-string,

Dieth.

At these words the sheriff's men stood as still as stocks,

For they knew right well that little John would be as good as his word,

And that to disobey him meant death.

In vain the sheriff roared at them,

Calling them cowards and urging them forward in a body,

As they would not budge an inch,

But stood and watched little John as he moved slowly away toward the forest,

Keeping his gaze fixed upon them.

But when the sheriff saw his enemy thus slipping betwixt his fingers,

He grew mad with his rage so that his head swam,

And he knew not what he did.

Then,

Of a sudden,

He turned his horse's head,

And plunging his spurs into its sides,

He gave a great shout,

And rising in his stirrups,

Came down upon little John like the wind.

Little John raised his deadly bow and drew the grey goose feather to his cheek,

But alas for him,

For e'er he could lose the shaft,

The good bow that had served him so long split in his hands,

And the arrow fell harmless at his feet.

Seeing what had happened,

The sheriff's men raised a shout,

And following their master,

Came rushing down upon little John.

But the sheriff was ahead of the others,

And so caught up with the owmen before he reached the shelter of the woodlands.

Then leaning forward,

He struck a mighty blow.

Little John ducked,

And the sheriff's sword turned in his hand,

But the flat of the blade struck the other upon the head and smote him down,

Stunned and senseless.

Now I am right glad,

Said the sheriff,

When the men came up and found that little John was not dead,

That I have not slain this man in my haste.

I would rather lose five hundred pounds than have him die thus,

Instead of hanging,

As such a vile thief should do.

Go get some water from yonder fountain,

William,

And pour it over his head.

The man did as he was bidden,

And presently little John opened his eyes and looked around him,

All dazed and bewildered with the stun of the blow.

They tied his hands behind him,

And lifting him up,

Set him upon the back of one of the horses,

With his face to its tail and his feet strapped beneath its belly.

So they took him back to the king's head-inn,

Laughing and rejoicing as they went along.

But in the meantime,

The widow's three sons had gotten safely away and were hidden in the woodlands.

Once more,

The sheriff of Nottingham sat within the king's head-inn.

His heart rejoiced within him,

For he had at last done that which he had sought to do for years,

Taken little John prisoner,

Quoth he to himself.

This time to-morrow the rogue shall hang upon the gallows tree in front of the great gate of Nottingham town,

And thus shall I make my long score with him even.

So saying,

He took a deep draught of cannery,

But it seemed as if the sheriff had swallowed a thought with his wine,

For he shook his head and put the cup down hastily.

Now he muttered to himself,

I would not for a thousand pounds have this fellow slipped through my fingers yet,

Should his master escape that foul guy of Gisborne.

There is no knowing what he may do,

For he is the cunningest knave in all the world,

This same Robin Hood.

Be like I had better not wait until to-morrow to hang the fellow.

So saying,

He pushed his chair back hastily,

And going forth from the inn called his men together.

Quoth he,

I will wait no longer for the hanging of this rogue,

But it shall be done forthwith,

And that from the very tree whence he saved those three young villains by stepping betwixt them and the law.

So get ye ready straightway.

Then once more they sat little John upon the horse,

With his face to the tail,

And so,

One leading the horse whereon he sat,

And the others riding around him,

They went forward to that tree from the branches of which they had thought to hang the poachers.

On they went,

Rattling and jingling along the road,

Till they came to the tree.

Here one of the men spoke to the sheriff of a sudden.

Your worship,

Pried he,

Is not young Fellow coming along toward us,

That same guy of Gisborne,

Whom thou didst send into the forest to seek Robin Hood?

At these words the sheriff shaded his eyes and looked eagerly.

Why,

Sir Tease,

Quoth he,

Yon Fellow is the same.

Now heaven send that he hath slain the master thief,

As we will presently slay the man.

Little John heard this speech.

He looked up,

And straightway his heart crumbled away within him.

For not only were the man's garments all covered with blood,

But he wore Robin Hood's bugle-horn,

Carried his bow and broadsword in his hand.

How now,

Cried the sheriff.

When Robin Hood,

In Guy of Gisborne's clothes,

Had come nigh to them,

What luck hath befallen thee in the forest?

Why man,

Thy clothes are all over blood,

And thou likest not my clothes,

Said Robin,

In a harsh voice,

Like that of Guy Gisborne.

Thou mayst shut thine eyes.

Marry,

The blood upon me is that of the vilest outlaw that ever trod the woodlands,

And one whom I have slain this day,

Albeit not without wound to myself.

Then out spoke little John,

For the first time since he had fallen into the sheriff's hands.

O thou vile,

Bloody wretch!

I know thee,

Guy of Gisborne,

For who is there that hath not heard of thee,

And cursed thee for thy vile deeds of blood?

Is it by such a hand as thine,

That the gentlest heart that ever beat is still in death?

Truly thou art a fit tool for this coward sheriff of Nottingham.

Now I die joyfully,

Nor do I care how I die,

For life is not to me,

So spoke little John.

The salt tears rolling down his brown cheeks.

But the sheriff of Nottingham clapped his hands for joy.

Now Guy of Gisborne,

Guide he,

If what thou tellest me is true,

It will be the best day's doings for thee that ever thou hast done in all thy life.

What I have told thee is sooth,

And I lie not,

Said Robin,

Still in Guy of Gisborne's voice.

Look,

Is not this Robin Hood's sword?

And is this his good bow of yew?

And is not this his bugle horn?

Thinkest thou he would have given them to Guy of Gisborne of his own free will?

Then the sheriff laughed aloud for joy.

This is a good day,

Cried he,

The great outlaw dead,

And his right hand man in my hands.

Ask what thou wilt of me,

Guy of Gisborne,

And it is thine.

Then I ask thee,

Then this I ask of thee,

Said Robin.

As I have slain the master,

I would now kill the man.

Give this fellow's life into my hands,

Sir sheriff.

Now thou art a fool,

Cried the sheriff.

Thou mightest have had enough money for a night's ransom if thou had asked for it.

I like ill to let this fellow pass from my hands,

But as I have promised,

Thou shalt have him.

I thank thee right heartily for thy gift,

Cried Robin.

Take the rogue down from the horsemen,

And lean him against yonder tree,

While I show you how we stick a poker whence I come.

At these words some of the sheriff's men shook their heads,

For though they cared not a whit whether little John were hanged or not,

They hated to see him butchered in cold blood.

But the sheriff called to them in a loud voice,

Ordering them to take the yeoman down from the horse,

And lean him against the tree as the other bade.

While they were doing this,

Robin Hood strung both his bow and that of Guy Gisborne,

Albeit none of them took notice of his doing so.

Then when little John stood against the tree,

He drew Guy of Gisborne's sharp,

Double-edged dagger.

Fall back,

Fall back,

Cried he.

Would ye crowd so on my pleasure?

Ye unmannerly knaves,

Back I say,

Farther yet.

So they crowded back as he ordered,

Many of them turning their faces away,

That they might not see what was about to happen.

Come,

Cried little John,

Here is my breast.

It is meet that the same hand that slew my dear master should butcher me also.

I know thee,

Guy of Gisborne.

Peace,

Little John,

Said Robin in a low voice.

Twice thou hast said thou knowest me,

And yet thou knowest me not at all.

Couldst thou not tell me beneath this wild beast's hide?

Yonder,

Just in front of thee,

Lie my bow and arrows,

Likewise my broadsword.

Take them when I cut thy bonds,

Now,

Get them quickly.

So saying,

He cut the bonds,

And little John,

Quick as a wink,

Leaped forward and caught up the bow and arrows and the broadsword.

At the same time Robin Hood threw back the cowl of horse's hide from his face,

And bent Guy of Gisborne's bow with a keen,

Barbed arrow fitted to the string.

Stand back,

Cried he.

The first man that toucheth finger to bowstring dieth.

I have slain thy man,

Sheriff.

Take heed that it is not thy turn next.

Then,

Seeing that little John had armed himself,

He clapped his bugle horn to his lips and blew three blasts,

Both loud and shrill.

Now when the sheriff of Nottingham saw whose face it was beneath Guy of Gisborne's hood,

And when he heard those bugle notes ring in his ear,

He felt as if his hour had come.

Robin Hood,

Roared he,

And without another word he wheeled his horse in the road and went off in a cloud of dust.

The sheriff's men,

Seeing their master thus fleeing for his life,

Thought that it was not their business to tarry longer.

So clapping spurs to their horses,

They also dashed away after him.

But though the sheriff of Nottingham went fast,

He could not outstrip a cloth-yard arrow.

Little John twanged his bowstring with a shout,

And when the sheriff dashed in through the gates of Nottingham town at full speed,

A grey goose shaft stuck out behind him like a molting sparrow with one feather in its tail.

For a month afterward,

The poor sheriff could sit upon naught but the softest cushions that could be gotten for him.

Thus the sheriff and a score of men ran away from Robin Hood and Little John,

So that when Will Stootley and a dozen or more of stout yeomen burst from out the covert,

They saw naught of their master's enemies.

For the sheriff and his men were scurrying away in the distance,

Hidden within a cloud of dust like a little thunderstorm.

Then they all went back into the forest once more,

Where they found the widow's three sons,

Who ran to Little John and kissed his hands.

But it would not do for them to roam the forest at large anymore.

So they promised that after they had gone and told their mother of their escape,

They would come that night to the greenwood tree and thenceforth become men of the band.

Reviews

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