Fish, fleshe, and fowle of all kinds were there, and cyder and ale in plentie, so that each manne dyd eat and quaff and sing and laugh, till he coulde no more. Then dyd they sitte and laye around the bigge fire and tell stories of their deeds, which dyd shock mine ears exceedinglie. By the fyrelight they dyd look a very desperate sett of menne, ye more so when they had drunken of the goode rede wine, which Robyn had caused to be broached. Robyns nose grew redder as he dranke, and hys eyen being black he dyd look most curious. Lytell John dyd have hys jawes in a slyng, as hys cheeke was some deal painful after his toothe hauling. My yeoman, Robert Baldrow, whose cheekes hade been shot through, was a silent manne, for his mouth was bounden in a clothe through a hole in which he dyd suck up some brothe through a hollow bunke. Howbeit, for these lytell drawbacks, each man dyd enjoy himself greatly, and dyd sing or daunce according as he was him capable, and ye merriment was kept up for a gret many houres till many dyd drink themselves to sleep, and their comrades dyd cover them with deer skins and bracken, for fear they might be freesed, so colde was ye night. “Not oft,” sayd Allan-a-dale to me, “do we have these galas, onlie now and again, else myght the crewel Sheriff of Nottingham worke us some ill.” For several dayes more dyd Robyn keep me hys prisoner, and on onne day I dyd see some of their famous archerie. On New Yeres Day, Robyn, Lytell John and Scadlocke, had matched themselves to strike as many arrows into a marke as any six of their comrades. Thys wager was accepted by Much, Greneleafe, Allan-a-dale, my man Thomas à Boston, Reginauld Foxe, and one they called “Humpy” from his crooked backe. A hare skin was stretched on a hoope of wode and placed as a pryke for them to shote at, at a distance of eighte score yardes, and each manne was to shote a score of arrowes at ye marke. Robyn, Lytell John, and Scadlocke dyd shote first, and of their three score arrows, a score and seventeen dyd stryke the marke, though Robyn dyd not schote well, hys nose being as bigge as two, and was in hys way when he dyd schote, so that but ten of his arrowes of the full score dyd strike ye mark. Then dyd Much and his menne in turn shote at ye marke, and of alle their six score arrowes, two score and three dyd pierce ye skyn, whereat there was much shoutynge and laughing by those who dyd behold, and Robyn dyd look him ruefully to see ye prize, which was a flagon of yelow wine, drunk by lytell Much and hys men. On the 2nd of January, my yeoman being recovered of his woundes, Robyn dyd give me leve for to goe on my waye. Whereon I dyd thanke hym and ask for my gear, at whych he dyd laugh him outrighte in my face. “Nay, Master Monk,” sayd he, “ye traveller must paye for hys fayre. Have I not kept you and two menne and alle your mules these ten days? Come quit thee hence, and thy gear I will keep in payment for thy victuals and bedde.