"
To this the Beggar listened with his knuckles resting against his hips,
and when Robin had ended he cocked his head on one side and thrust his
tongue into his cheek.
"Marry, come up," quoth he at last. "Lift thy finger against me,
forsooth! Art thou out of thy wits, man? My name is Riccon Hazel, and I
come from Holywell, in Flintshire, over by the River Dee. I tell thee,
knave, I have cracked the head of many a better man than thou art, and
even now I would scald thy crown for thee but for the ale thou hast
given me. Now thou shalt not have so much as one tag-rag of my coat,
even could it save thee from hanging."
"Now, fellow," said Robin, "it would ill suit me to spoil thy pretty
head for thee, but I tell thee plainly, that but for this feast I would
do that to thee would stop thy traveling the country for many a day to
come. Keep thy lips shut, lad, or thy luck will tumble out of thy mouth
with thy speech!"
"Now out, and alas for thee, man, for thou hast bred thyself ill this
day!" cried the Beggar, rising and taking up his staff. "Take up thy
club and defend thyself, fellow, for I will not only beat thee but I
will take from thee thy money and leave thee not so much as a clipped
groat to buy thyself a lump of goose grease to rub thy cracked crown
withal.
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