“Ay, that am I,” quoth the jolly Butcher, “and why should I not be so?  Am I not hale in wind and limb?  Have I not the bonniest lass in all Nottinghamshire?  And lastly, am I not to be married to her on Thursday next in sweet Locksley Town?”

“Ha,” said Robin, “comest thou from Locksley Town?  Well do I know that fair place for miles about, and well do I know each hedgerow and gentle pebbly stream, and even all the bright little fishes therein, for there I was born and bred.  Now, where goest thou with thy meat, my fair friend?”

“I go to the market at Nottingham Town to sell my beef and my mutton,” answered the Butcher.  “But who art thou that comest from Locksley Town?”

“A yeoman am I, and men do call me Robin Hood.”

“Now, by Our Lady’s grace,” cried the Butcher, “well do I know thy name, and many a time have I heard thy deeds both sung and spoken of.  But Heaven forbid that thou shouldst take aught of me!  An honest man am I, and have wronged neither man nor maid; so trouble me not, good master, as I have never troubled thee.”

“Nay, Heaven forbid, indeed,” quoth Robin, “that I should take from such as thee, jolly fellow!  Not so much as one farthing would I take from thee, for I love a fair Saxon face like thine right well—­more especially when it cometh from Locksley Town, and most especially when the man that owneth it is to marry a bonny lass on Thursday next.  But come, tell me for what price thou wilt sell me all of thy meat and thy horse and cart.”

“At four marks do I value meat, cart, and mare,” quoth the Butcher, “but if I do not sell all my meat I will not have four marks in value.”

Then Robin Hood plucked the purse from his girdle, and quoth he, “Here in this purse are six marks.  Now, I would fain be a butcher for the day and sell my meat in Nottingham Town.  Wilt thou close a bargain with me and take six marks for thine outfit?”

“Now may the blessings of all the saints fall on thine honest head!” cried the Butcher right joyfully, as he leaped down from his cart and took the purse that Robin held out to him.

“Nay,” quoth Robin, laughing loudly, “many do like me and wish me well, but few call me honest.  Now get thee gone back to thy lass, and give her a sweet kiss from me.”  So saying, he donned the Butcher’s apron, and, climbing into the cart, he took the reins in his hand and drove off through the forest to Nottingham Town.

When he came to Nottingham, he entered that part of the market where butchers stood, and took up his inn[Stand for selling] in the best place he could find.  Next, he opened his stall and spread his meat upon the bench, then, taking his cleaver and steel and clattering them together, he trolled aloud in merry tones: 

 “Now come, ye lasses, and eke ye dames,
     And buy your meat from me;
 For three pennyworths of meat I sell
     For the charge of one penny.