“This is a mad blade,” the butchers still said;
 Said the Sheriff, “He is some prodigal,
 That some land has sold for silver and gold,
 And now he doth mean to spend all.

“Hast thou any horn-beasts,” the Sheriff asked,
 “Good fellow, to sell to me?”
 “Yes, that I have, good Master Sheriff,
 I have hundreds, two or three.

“And a hundred acres of good free land,
 If you please it to see: 
 And I’ll make you as good assurance of it,
 As ever my father made me.”

The Sheriff he saddled his good palfrey,
 And with three hundred pounds of gold,
 Away he went with bold Robin Hood,
 His horned beasts to behold.

Away then the Sheriff and Robin did ride,
 To the forest of merry Sherwood;
 Then the Sheriff did say, “God keep us this day
 From a man they call Robin Hood.”

But when a little farther they came,
 Bold Robin he chanced to spy
 A hundred head of good red deer,
 Come tripping the Sheriff full nigh.

“How like you my horn-beasts, good Master Sheriff? 
 They be fat and fair to see”;
 “I tell thee, good fellow, I would I were gone,
 For I like not thy company.”

Then Robin set his horn to his mouth,
 And blew but blasts three;
 Then quickly anon there came Little John,
 And all his company.

“What is your will?” then said Little John,
 “Good master, come tell unto me”;
 “I have brought hither the Sheriff of Nottingham
 This day to dine with thee,”

Then Robin took his cloak from his back
 And laid it upon the ground;
 And out of the Sheriff’s portmanteau
 He took three hundred pound.

He then led the Sheriff through the wood,
 And set him on his dapple grey;
 “Commend Robin Hood to your wife at home,”
 He said, and went laughing away.

Now Robin Hood had no liking for a company of idle men about him, and sent off Little John and Will Scarlett to the great road known as Watling Street, with orders to hide among the trees and wait till some adventure might come to them; and if they took captive earl or baron, abbot or knight, he was to be brought unharmed back to Robin Hood.

But all along Watling Street the road was bare; white and hard it lay in the sun, without the tiniest cloud of dust to show that a rich company might be coming:  east and west the land lay still.

At length, just where a side path turned into the broad highway, there rode a knight, and a sorrier man than he never sat a horse on summer day.  One foot only was in the stirrup, the other hung carelessly by his side; his head was bowed, the reins dropped loose, and his horse went on as he would.  At so sad a sight the hearts of the outlaws were filled with pity, and Little John fell on his knees and bade the knight welcome in the name of his master.

“Who is your master?” asked the knight.

“Robin Hood,” answered Little John.