“Now hearken, my merry men all, to the news that I have brought from Lincoln Town today.  Our friend the Sheriff of Nottingham hath proclaimed a shooting match, and hath sent messengers to tell of it through all the countryside, and the prize is to be a bright golden arrow.  Now I fain would have one of us win it, both because of the fairness of the prize and because our sweet friend the Sheriff hath offered it.  So we will take our bows and shafts and go there to shoot, for I know right well that merriment will be a-going.  What say ye, lads?”

Then young David of Doncaster spoke up and said, “Now listen, I pray thee, good master, unto what I say.  I have come straight from our friend Eadom o’ the Blue Boar, and there I heard the full news of this same match.  But, master, I know from him, and he got it from the Sheriff’s man Ralph o’ the Scar, that this same knavish Sheriff hath but laid a trap for thee in this shooting match and wishes nothing so much as to see thee there.  So go not, good master, for I know right well he doth seek to beguile thee, but stay within the greenwood lest we all meet dole and woe.”

“Now,” quoth Robin, “thou art a wise lad and keepest thine ears open and thy mouth shut, as becometh a wise and crafty woodsman.  But shall we let it be said that the Sheriff of Nottingham did cow bold Robin Hood and sevenscore as fair archers as are in all merry England?  Nay, good David, what thou tellest me maketh me to desire the prize even more than I else should do.  But what sayeth our good gossip Swanthold?  Is it not ’A hasty man burneth his mouth, and the fool that keepeth his eyes shut falleth into the pit’?  Thus he says, truly, therefore we must meet guile with guile.  Now some of you clothe yourselves as curtal friars, and some as rustic peasants, and some as tinkers, or as beggars, but see that each man taketh a good bow or broadsword, in case need should arise.  As for myself, I will shoot for this same golden arrow, and should I win it, we will hang it to the branches of our good greenwood tree for the joy of all the band.  How like you the plan, my merry men all?”

Then “Good, good!” cried all the band right heartily.

A fair sight was Nottingham Town on the day of the shooting match.  All along upon the green meadow beneath the town wall stretched a row of benches, one above the other, which were for knight and lady, squire and dame, and rich burghers and their wives; for none but those of rank and quality were to sit there.  At the end of the range, near the target, was a raised seat bedecked with ribbons and scarfs and garlands of flowers, for the Sheriff of Nottingham and his dame.  The range was twoscore paces broad.  At one end stood the target, at the other a tent of striped canvas, from the pole of which fluttered many-colored flags and streamers.  In this booth were casks of ale, free to be broached by any of the archers who might wish to quench their thirst.