Folklore -- England; Robin Hood (Legendary character) -- Legends
At this, the youth, who had donned his clothes and taken up his staff
again, bowed without a word, then, taking the gloves and the ring, and
thrusting the one into his girdle and slipping the other upon his thumb,
he turned and, leaping lightly over the ropes again, made his way
through the crowd, and was gone.
"Now, I wonder who yon youth may be," said the judge, turning to Sir
Richard, "he seemeth like a stout Saxon from his red cheeks and fair
hair. This William of ours is a stout man, too, and never have I seen
him cast in the ring before, albeit he hath not yet striven with such
great wrestlers as Thomas of Cornwall, Diccon of York, and young David
of Doncaster. Hath he not a firm foot in the ring, thinkest thou, Sir
Richard?"
"Ay, truly, and yet this youth threw him fairly, and with wondrous ease.
I much wonder who he can be." Thus said Sir Richard in a thoughtful
voice.
For a time the Knight stood talking to those about him, but at last he
arose and made ready to depart, so he called his men about him and,
tightening the girths of his saddle, he mounted his horse once more.
Meanwhile the young stranger had made his way through the crowd, but, as
he passed, he heard all around him such words muttered as "Look at the
cockerel!" "Behold how he plumeth himself!" "I dare swear he cast good
William unfairly!" "Yea, truly, saw ye not birdlime upon his hands?"
"It would be well to cut his cock's comb!" To all this the stranger
paid no heed, but strode proudly about as though he heard it not. So he
walked slowly across the green to where the booth stood wherein was
dancing, and standing at the door he looked in on the sport. As he stood
thus, a stone struck his arm of a sudden with a sharp jar, and, turning,
he saw that an angry crowd of men had followed him from the wrestling
ring. Then, when they saw him turn so, a great hooting and yelling
arose from all, so that the folk came running out from the dancing booth
to see what was to do. At last a tall, broad-shouldered, burly
blacksmith strode forward from the crowd swinging a mighty blackthorn
club in his hand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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