“Li Gieus de Robin et de Marion” had little or no plot.  Adam strung together, on a thread of dialogue and by a group of suitable figures, a number of the favourite songs of his time, followed by the favourite games, and ending with a favourite dance, the “tresca.”  The songs, the games, and the dances do not concern us, but the dialogue runs along prettily, with an air of Flemish realism, like a picture of Teniers, as unlike that of “courtoisie” as Teniers was to Guido Reni.  Underneath it all a tone of satire made itself felt, good-natured enough, but directed wholly against the men.

The scene opens on Marion tending her sheep, and singing the pretty air:  “Robin m’aime, Robin ma’a,” after which enters a chevalier or esquire, on horseback, and sings:  “Je me repairoie du tournoiement.”  Then follows a dialogue between the chevalier and Marion, with no other object than to show off the charm of Marion against the masculine defects of the knight.  Being, like most squires, somewhat slow of ideas in conversation with young women, the gentleman began by asking for sport for his falcon.  Has she seen any duck down by the river?

  Mais veis tu par chi devant
   Vers ceste riviere nul ane?

“Ane,” it seems, was the usual word for wild duck, the falcon’s prey, and Marion knew it as well as he, but she chose to misunderstand him:—­

C’est une bete qui recane;
 J’en vis ier iii sur che quemin,
 Tous quarchies aler au moulin. 
 Est che chou que vous demandes?

“It is a beast that brays; I saw three yesterday on the road, all with loads going to the mill.  Is that what you ask?” That is not what the squire has asked, and he is conscious that Marion knows it, but he tries again.  If she has not seen a duck, perhaps she has seen a heron:—­

  Hairons, sire? par me foi, non! 
   Je n’en vi nesun puis quareme
   Que j’en vi mengier chies dame Eme
   Me taiien qui sorit ches brebis.

“Heron, sir! by my faith, no!  I’ve not seen one since Lent when I saw some eaten at my grandmother’s—­Dame Emma who owns these sheep.”  “Hairons,” it seems, meant also herring, and this wilful misunderstanding struck the chevalier as carrying jest too far:—­

  Par foi! or suis j’ou esbaubis! 
   N’ainc mais je ne fui si gabes!

“On my word, I am silenced! never in my life was I so chaffed!” Marion herself seems to think her joke a little too evident, for she takes up the conversation in her turn, only to conclude that she likes Robin better than she does the knight; he is gayer, and when he plays his musette he starts the whole village dancing.  At this, the squire makes a declaration of love with such energy as to spur his horse almost over her:—­

  Aimi, sirel ostez vo cheval! 
   A poi que il ne m’a blechie. 
   Li Robin ne regiete mie
   Quand je voie apres se karue.