Quoth Robin Hood, “Yon is verily a sorry-looking gallant, and doth seem to have donned ill-content with his jerkin this morning; nevertheless, I will out and talk with him, for there may be some pickings here for a hungry daw.  Methinks his dress is rich, though he himself is so downcast.  Bide ye here till I look into this matter.”  So saying, he arose and left them, crossed the road to the shrine, and there stood, waiting for the sorrowful knight to come near him.  So, presently, when the knight came riding slowly along, jolly Robin stepped forward and laid his hand upon the bridle rein.  “Hold, Sir Knight,” quoth he.  “I prythee tarry for a short time, for I have a few words to say to thee.”

“What art thou, friend, who dost stop a traveler in this manner upon his most gracious Majesty’s highway?” said the Knight.

“Marry,” quoth Robin, “that is a question hard to answer.  One man calleth me kind, another calleth me cruel; this one calleth me good honest fellow, and that one, vile thief.  Truly, the world hath as many eyes to look upon a man withal as there are spots on a toad; so, with what pair of eyes thou regardest me lieth entirely with thine own self.  My name is Robin Hood.”

“Truly, good Robin,” said the Knight, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, “thou hast a quaint conceit.  As for the pair of eyes with which I regard thee, I would say that they are as favorable as may be, for I hear much good of thee and little ill.  What is thy will of me?”

“Now, I make my vow, Sir Knight,” quoth Robin, “thou hast surely learned thy wisdom of good Gaffer Swanthold, for he sayeth, ’Fair words are as easy spoke as foul, and bring good will in the stead of blows.’  Now I will show thee the truth of this saying; for, if thou wilt go with me this day to Sherwood Forest, I will give thee as merry a feast as ever thou hadst in all thy life.”

“Thou art indeed kind,” said the Knight, “but methinks thou wilt find me but an ill-seeming and sorrowful guest.  Thou hadst best let me pass on my way in peace.”

“Nay,” quoth Robin, “thou mightst go thine own way but for one thing, and that I will tell thee.  We keep an inn, as it were, in the very depths of Sherwood, but so far from highroads and beaten paths that guests do not often come nigh us; so I and my friends set off merrily and seek them when we grow dull of ourselves.  Thus the matter stands, Sir Knight; yet I will furthermore tell thee that we count upon our guests paying a reckoning.”

“I take thy meaning, friend,” said the Knight gravely, “but I am not thy man, for I have no money by me.”

“Is it sooth?” said Robin, looking at the Knight keenly.  “I can scarce choose but believe thee; yet, Sir Knight, there be those of thy order whose word is not to be trusted as much as they would have others believe.  Thou wilt think no ill if I look for myself in this matter.”  Then, still holding the horse by the bridle rein, he put his fingers to his lips and blew a shrill whistle, whereupon fourscore yeomen came leaping over the stile and ran to where the Knight and Robin stood.  “These,” said Robin, looking upon them proudly, “are some of my merry men.  They share and share alike with me all joys and troubles, gains and losses.  Sir Knight, I prythee tell me what money thou hast about thee.”