two pretty men.
--Mother Goose's Melody.

They proceeded, following their infallible guide, first along a light
elastic greensward under the shade of lofty and wide-spreading trees
that skirted a sunny opening of the forest, then along labyrinthine
paths, which the deer, the outlaw, or the woodman had made, through the
close shoots of the young coppices, through the thick undergrowth of
the ancient woods, through beds of gigantic fern that filled the narrow
glades and waved their green feathery heads above the plume of the
knight. Along these sylvan alleys they walked in single file; the friar
singing and pioneering in the van, the horse plunging and floundering
behind the friar, the lady following "in maiden meditation fancy free,"
and the knight bringing up the rear, much marvelling at the strange
company into which his stars had thrown him. Their path had expanded
sufficiently to allow the knight to take Marian's hand again, when they
arrived in the august presence of Robin Hood and his court.

Robin's table was spread under a high overarching canopy of living
boughs, on the edge of a natural lawn of verdure starred with flowers,
through which a swift transparent rivulet ran sparkling in the sun. The
board was covered with abundance of choice food and excellent liquor,
not without the comeliness of snow-white linen and the splendour
of costly plate, which the sheriff of Nottingham had unwillingly
contributed to supply, at the same time with an excellent cook, whom
Little John's art had spirited away to the forest with the contents of
his master's silver scullery.

An hundred foresters were here assembled over-ready for their dinner,
some seated at the table and some lying in groups under the trees.

Robin bade courteous welcome to the knight, who took his seat between
Robin and Marian at the festal board; at which was already placed one
strange guest in the person of a portly monk, sitting between Little
John and Scarlet, with, his rotund physiognomy elongated into an
unnatural oval by the conjoint influence of sorrow and fear: sorrow for
the departed contents of his travelling treasury, a good-looking valise
which was hanging empty on a bough; and fear for his personal safety,
of which all the flasks and pasties before him could not give him
assurance. The appearance of the knight, however, cheered him up with
a semblance of protection, and gave him just sufficient courage to
demolish a cygnet and a rumbl