"Alas! It doth grieve me much," said the other, "that I cannot do as
thou dost wish. I have nothing to give thee. Let me go my way, I
prythee. I have done thee no harm."

"Nay, thou goest not," quoth Robin, "till thou hast shown me thy purse."

"Good friend," said the other gently, "I have business elsewhere. I have
given thee much time and have heard thee patiently. Prythee, let me
depart in peace."

"I have spoken to thee, friend," said Robin sternly, "and I now tell
thee again, that thou goest not one step forward till thou hast done as
I bid thee." So saying, he raised his quarterstaff above his head in a
threatening way.

"Alas!" said the stranger sadly, "it doth grieve me that this thing must
be. I fear much that I must slay thee, thou poor fellow!" So saying, he
drew his sword.

"Put by thy weapon," quoth Robin. "I would take no vantage of thee. Thy
sword cannot stand against an oaken staff such as mine. I could snap it
like a barley straw. Yonder is a good oaken thicket by the roadside;
take thee a cudgel thence and defend thyself fairly, if thou hast a
taste for a sound drubbing."

First the stranger measured Robin with his eye, and then he measured the
oaken staff. "Thou art right, good fellow," said he presently, "truly,
my sword is no match for that cudgel of thine. Bide thee awhile till I
get me a staff." So saying, he threw aside the rose that he had been