t I judge I listen to a voice whose behests must not be
disputed," answered the yeoman, "I would send a shaft after the skulking
villain that should spare him the labour of a long journey."

"Thou bearest an English heart, Locksley," said the Black Knight, "and
well dost judge thou art the more bound to obey my behest--I am Richard
of England!"

At these words, pronounced in a tone of majesty suited to the high rank,
and no less distinguished character of Coeur-de-Lion, the yeomen at once
kneeled down before him, and at the same time tendered their allegiance,
and implored pardon for their offences.

"Rise, my friends," said Richard, in a gracious tone, looking on
them with a countenance in which his habitual good-humour had already
conquered the blaze of hasty resentment, and whose features retained no
mark of the late desperate conflict, excepting the flush arising from
exertion,--"Arise," he said, "my friends!--Your misdemeanours, whether
in forest or field, have been atoned by the loyal services you rendered
my distressed subjects before the walls of Torquilstone, and the rescue
you have this day afforded to your sovereign. Arise, my liegemen, and be
good subjects in future.--And thou, brave Locksley--"

"Call me no longer Locksley, my Liege, but know me under the name,
which, I fear, fame hath blown too widely not to have reached even your
royal ears--I am Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest." [561]

"King of Outlaws, and Prince of good fellows!" said the King, "who
hath not heard a name that has been borne as far as Palestine? But be
assured, brave Outlaw, that no deed done in our absence, and in the
turbulent times to which it hath given rise, shall be remembered to thy
disadvantage."

"True says the proverb," said Wamba, interposing his word, but with some
abatement of his usual petulance,--

"'When the cat is away, The mice will play.'"

"What, Wamba, art thou there?" said Richard; "I have been so long of
hearing thy voice, I thought thou hadst taken flight."

"I take flight!" said Wamba; "when do you ever find Folly separated from
Valour? There lies the trophy of my sword, that good grey gelding, whom
I heartily wish upon his legs again, conditioning his master lay there
houghed in his place. It is true, I gave a little ground at first, for
a motley jacket does not brook lance-heads, as a steel doublet will. But
if I fought not at sword's point, you will grant me that I sounded the
onset."

"And to good