The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle
page 46 of 372 (12%)
page 46 of 372 (12%)
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another word.
Then the Sheriff came down from his dais and drew near, in all his silks and velvets, to where the tattered stranger stood leaning upon his stout bow, while the good folk crowded around to see the man who shot so wondrously well. "Here, good fellow," quoth the Sheriff, "take thou the prize, and well and fairly hast thou won it, I bow. What may be thy name, and whence comest thou?" "Men do call me Jock o' Teviotdale, and thence am I come," said the stranger. "Then, by Our Lady, Jock, thou art the fairest archer that e'er mine eyes beheld, and if thou wilt join my service I will clothe thee with a better coat than that thou hast upon thy back; thou shalt eat and drink of the best, and at every Christmastide fourscore marks shall be thy wage. I trow thou drawest better bow than that same coward knave Robin Hood, that dared not show his face here this day. Say, good fellow, wilt thou join my service?" "Nay, that will I not," quoth the stranger roughly. "I will be mine own, and no man in all merry England shall be my master." "Then get thee gone, and a murrain seize thee!" cried the Sheriff, and his voice trembled with anger. "And by my faith and troth, I have a good part of a mind to have thee beaten for thine insolence!" Then he turned upon his heel and strode away. It was a right motley company that gathered about the noble greenwood tree in Sherwood's depths that same day. A score and more of barefoot |
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