d spirit of chivalry which so often impelled his master
upon dangers which he might easily have avoided, or rather, which it
was unpardonable in him to have sought out. The young knight sighed,
therefore, and held his peace; while Richard, rejoiced at having
silenced his counsellor, though his heart acknowledged the justice of
the charge he had brought against him, went on in conversation with
Robin Hood.--"King of Outlaws," he said, "have you no refreshment to
offer to your brother sovereign? for these dead knaves have found me
both in exercise and appetite."

"In troth," replied the Outlaw, "for I scorn to lie to your Grace,
our larder is chiefly supplied with--" He stopped, and was somewhat
embarrassed.

"With venison, I suppose?" said Richard, gaily; "better food at need
there can be none--and truly, if a king will not remain at home and
slay his own game, methinks he should not brawl too loud if he finds it
killed to his hand."

"If your Grace, then," said Robin, "will again honour with your presence
one of Robin Hood's places of rendezvous, the venison shall not be
lacking; and a stoup of ale, and it may be a cup of reasonably good
wine, to relish it withal."

The Outlaw accordingly led the way, followed by the buxom Monarch,
more happy, probably, in this chance meeting with Robin Hood and his
foresters, than he would have been in again assuming his royal state,
and presiding over a splendid circle of peers and nobles. Novelty in
society and adventure were the zest of life to Richard Coeur-de-Lion,
and it had its highest relish when enhanced by dangers encountered
and surmounted. In the lion-hearted King, the brilliant, but useless
character, of a knight of romance, was in a great measure realized and
revived; and the personal glory which he acquired by his own deeds of
arms, was far more dear to his excited imagination, than that which a
course of policy and wisdom would have spread around his government.
Accordingly, his reign was like the course of a brilliant and rapid
meteor, which shoots along the face of Heaven, shedding around an
unnecessary and portentous light, which is instantly swallowed up by
universal darkness; his feats of chivalry furnishing themes for bards
and minstrels, but affording none of those solid benefits to his country
on which history loves to pause, and hold up as an example to posterity.
But in his present company Richard showed to the greatest imaginable
advantage. He was gay, g