“The saints forefend that you should treat me ill!” said the butcher in terror. “Oft have I heard of you, and how you lighten the purses of the fat priests and knights. But I am naught but a poor butcher, selling this load of meat, perchance, for enough to pay my quarter’s rent.” “Rest you, my friend, rest you,” quoth Robin, “not so much as a silver penny would I take from you, for I love an honest Saxon face and a fair name with my neighbors. But I would strike a bargain with you.” Here he took from his girdle a well-filled purse, and continued, “I would fain be a butcher, this day, and sell meat at Nottingham town. Could you sell me your meat, your cart, your mare, and your good-will, without loss, for five marks?” “Heaven bless ye, good Robin,” cried the butcher right joyfully, “that can I!” And he leaped down forthwith from the cart, and handed Robin the reins in exchange for the purse. “One moment more,” laughed Robin, “we must e’en change garments for the nonce. Take mine and scurry home quickly lest the King’s Foresters try to put a hole through this Lincoln green.” So saying he donned the butcher’s blouse and apron, and, climbing into the cart, drove merrily down the road to the town. When he came to Nottingham he greeted the scowling gate-keeper blithely and proceeded to the market-place. Boldly he led his shuffling horse to the place where the butchers had their stalls. He had no notion of the price to ask for his meat, but put on a foolish and simple air as he called aloud his wares: “Hark ye, lasses and dames, hark ye, Good meat come buy, come buy, Three pen’orths go for one penny, And a kiss is good, say I!” Now when the folk found what a simple butcher he was, they crowded around his cart; for he really did sell three times as much for one penny as was sold by the other butchers. And one or two serving-lasses with twinkling eyes liked his comely face so well that they willingly gave boot of a kiss. But the other butchers were wroth when they found how he was taking their trade; and they accordingly put their heads together. One said, “He is a prodigal and has sold his father’s land, and this is his first venture in trading.” Another said, “He is a thief who has murdered a butcher, and stolen his horse and meat.” Robin heard these sayings, but only laughed merrily and sang his song the louder. His good-humor made the people laugh also and crowd round his cart closely, shouting uproariously when some buxom lass submitted to be kissed. Then the butchers saw that they must meet craft with craft; and they said to him, “Come, brother butcher, if you would sell meat with us, you must e’en join our guild and stand by the rules of our trade.” “We dine at the Sheriff’s mansion to-day,” said another, “and you must take one of our party.” “Accurst of his heart,” said jolly Robin, “That a butcher will deny. I’ll go with you, my brethren true, And as fast as I can hie.”