Make your own free website on Tripod.com

               A PAUSE IN THE GREEN WOOD 

        They rode to the end of the dark valley, and emerged in a 
place of surpassing beauty, with fair fields and meadows, and 
green woods. The road led thru one of these woods, and as they 
rode along, weary from the fight, they heard a stir in a treetop. 
        A slender figure swung to the branch of a tree 
overlooking the road. It stood on the branch, arms akimbo, and 
smiled at them. 
        "Welcome, travelers! Welcome to the Greenwood!" (16) 
        It was a man, of uncertain age, dressed in green, with a 
cap bearing a red feather, and a bow and quiver of arrows across 
his back. 
        He lightly dropped to the ground, and strode to them. 
        "This is my country, and I give thee welcome! Come, and 
dine with me this eve! Thou shalt not pay the usual reckoning, 
but shall feast upon the fallow deer and enjoy the hospitality of 
myself and my merry men! Come! And fear not!" 

        He led them to a clearing within the forest, where there 
were many men and ladies, all feasting at long tables under the 
trees. A minstrel dressed in red sang for the company, and a 
short, fat friar gave them his blessings. 
        There were bouts with quarterstaves, and archery 
shootings, and much gladness and revelry. 
        This gladness was not, apparently, shared by one guest at 
the table. He sat there, dressed only in his shirt, and ate of 
the fare most grudgingly indeed. 
        Pilgrim asked their host, "What of yonder fellow? All 
others here are dressed in finery, while he wears only his shirt, 
and seems not to be happy with the company." 
        Their host smiled a merry smile indeed, and said, "That 
is our local Sheriff, a most depressing fellow, and he has paid 
his reckoning for this night's entertainment at my poor inn....I 
have been merciful to him, and left him a shirt to hide his 
scrawny bones." 
        The feast wound down at last, and one member of the band, 
a giant of a man, brought forth a sorry nag, that was old and 
broken down, and the Sheriff was placed upon it, face to tail, 
his ankles tied under the horse's belly, and his wrists tied 
together.
        "Well, Sheriff, dids't thou enjoy thine entertainment?" 
The green clad yeoman looked up at the miserable wretch, and 
smiled. 
        "That I did -not,- and I will provide thee with more 
amusing entertainment indeed, and a hempen halter about thy neck, 
should'st thou show thy face in -my- town, miserable bandit!" The 
Sheriff snarled at his tormentor. 
        "I think not!" laughed the yeoman, "But that thou 
should'st not travel the Greenwood without a weapon, I give thee 
this!" And he tucked a wooden spoon into the bonds around the 
Sheriff's wrists, with a grin. (18) 
        The Sheriff turned black with anger, and the yeoman 
slapped the horse on the rump, and it galloped off thru the 
forest, with its passenger screaming curses at the company as he 
bounced uncomfortably on his steed's bony spine. 
        All present joined in the general laughter, and then 
retired for the night. 
        In the morning, the travelers awoke to find themselves 
recovered of their wounds and alone, save for a single arrow 
lying upon the grass, that pointed them to the road. 
Go back to the home page!
Go to Chapter 8!