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SHERIFF
[_Angrily._]
Take care! You've cut the cord That bound him on that side!
ROBIN
Then here's the second!
I will be careful!
[_He takes a steady aim._]
A RUSTIC TO HIS NEIGHBOURS
I' faith, lads, he can shoot!
What do you think--that green patch on his eye Smacks of the merry men! He's tricking them!
[_ROBIN shoots. A louder murmur goes up from the crowd._]
SHERIFF
You have cut the rope again!
A CRY
He has cut him free!
ROBIN
All right! All right! It's just to tease the dog!
Here's for the third now!
[_He aims and shoots quickly. There is a loud cry of a wounded man; then a shout from the crowd._]
THE CROWD
Ah-h-h, he has missed; he has killed One of the guards!
FIRST RUSTIC
What has he done?
SECOND RUSTIC
He has killed One of the Sheriff's men!
SHERIFF
There's treachery here!
I'll cleave the first man's heart that moves!
ROBIN
Will Scarlet, Pick up that dead man's halbert!
SHERIFF
Treachery! Help!
Down with the villain!
ROBIN
[_Throws off his beggar's crouch and hurls the SHERIFF and several of his men back amongst the crowd. His cloak drops off._]
Sherwood! A merry Sherwood!
CROWD
Ah! ha! The Lincoln Green! A Robin Hood!
[_A bugle rings out and immediately some of the yokels throw off their disguise and the Lincoln green appears as by magic amongst the crowd. The guards are rushed and hustled by them. Robin and several of his men make a ring round WILL SCARLET._]
SHERIFF
It is the outlawed Earl of Huntingdon: There is a great reward upon his head.
Down with him!
[_The SHERIFF'S men make a rush at the little band. A KNIGHT in jet black armour, with a red-cross s.h.i.+eld, suddenly appears and forces his way through the mob, sword in hand._]
KNIGHT
What, so many against so few!
Back, you wild wolves. Now, foresters, follow me, For our St. George and merry England, charge, Charge them, my lads!
[_The FORESTERS make a rush with him and the SHERIFF and his men take to flight._]
ROBIN
Now back to Sherwood, swiftly!
A horse, or I shall come too late; a horse!
[_He sees the KNIGHT in armour standing by his horse._]
Your pardon, sir; our debt to you is great, Too great almost for thanks; but if you be Bound by the vows of chivalry, I pray you Lend me your charger; and my men will bring you To my poor home in Sherwood. There you'll find A most abundant grat.i.tude.
KNIGHT
Your name?
