At this a great roar went up, those of the yeomen who sat upon the grass rolling over and over and shouting with laughter, for never before had they seen their master so miss his mark; but Robin flung his bow upon the ground with vexation. “Now, out upon it!” cried he. “That shaft had an ill feather to it, for I felt it as it left my fingers. Give me a clean arrow, and I will engage to split the wand with it.”
At these words the yeomen laughed louder than ever. “Nay, good uncle,” said Will Scarlet in his soft, sweet voice, “thou hast had thy fair chance and hast missed thine aim out and out. I swear the arrow was as good as any that hath been loosed this day. Come hither; I owe thee somewhat, and would fain pay it.”
“Go, good master,” roared Friar Tuck, “and may my blessing go with thee. Thou hast bestowed these love taps of Will Scarlet’s with great freedom. It were pity an thou gottest not thine own share.”
“It may not be,” said merry Robin. “I am king here, and no subject may raise hand against the king. But even our great King Richard may yield to the holy Pope without shame, and even take a tap from him by way of penance; therefore I will yield myself to this holy friar, who seemeth to be one in authority, and will take my punishment from him.” Thus saying, he turned to the King, “I prythee, brother, wilt thou take my punishing into thy holy hands?”