hrough me this day, for it were pity that a merry
time should end in a manner as to mar its joyousness."

Then all arose and the King beckoned Robin Hood to come to him. "How
now," quoth he, "is thine ear still too deaf to hear me speak?"

"Mine ears would be deafened in death ere they would cease to hear Your
Majesty's voice," said Robin. "As for the blow that Your Majesty struck
me, I would say that though my sins are haply many, methinks they have
been paid up in full thereby."

"Thinkest thou so?" said the King with somewhat of sternness in
his voice. "Now I tell thee that but for three things, to wit, my
mercifulness, my love for a stout woodsman, and the loyalty thou hast
avowed for me, thine ears, mayhap, might have been more tightly closed
than ever a buffet from me could have shut them. Talk not lightly of thy
sins, good Robin. But come, look up. Thy danger is past, for hereby I
give thee and all thy band free pardon. But, in sooth, I cannot let you
roam the forest as ye have done in the past; therefore I will take thee
at thy word, when thou didst say thou wouldst give thy service to me,
and thou shalt go back to London with me. We will take that bold
knave Little John also, and likewise thy cousin, Will Scarlet, and thy
minstrel, Allan a Dale. As for the rest of thy band, we will take their
names and have them duly recorded as royal rangers; for methinks it
were wiser to have them changed to law-abiding caretakers of our deer in
Sherwood than to leave them to run at large as outlawed slayers thereof.
But now get a feast ready; I would see how ye live in the woodlands."

So Robin bade his men make ready a grand feast. Straightway great
fires were kindled and burned brightly, at which savory things roasted
sweetly. While this was going forward, the King bade Robin call Allan
a Dale, for he would hear him sing. So word was passed for Allan, and
presently he came, bringing his harp.

"Marry," said King Richard, "if thy singing match thy looks it is
fair enough. Prythee, strike up a ditty and let us have a taste of thy
skill."

Then Allan touched his harp lightly, and all words were hushed while he
sang thus:

"'_Oh, where has thou been, my daughter?
Oh, where hast thou been this day
Daughter, my daughter?'
'Oh, I have been to the river's side,
Where the waters lie all gray and wide,
And the gray sky broods o'er the leaden tide,
And the shrill wind sighs a straining.'