"Yea, my son," quoth Robin--albeit he knew nought of the mule--"and
bring it forth quickly, I prythee, for I am late and must be jogging."
So presently the stableman brought forth the mule, and Robin mounted it
and went on his way rejoicing.
As for the holy friar, when he arose he was in as pretty a stew as any
man in all the world, for his rich, soft robes were gone, likewise his
purse with ten golden pounds in it, and nought was left but patched
clothes and a leathern apron. He raged and swore like any layman, but
as his swearing mended nothing and the landlord could not aid him, and
as, moreover, he was forced to be at Emmet Priory that very morning upon
matters of business, he was fain either to don the cobbler's clothes or
travel the road in nakedness. So he put on the clothes, and, still
raging and swearing vengeance against all the cobblers in Derbyshire, he
set forth upon his way afoot; but his ills had not yet done with him,
for he had not gone far ere he fell into the hands of the King's men,
who marched him off, willy-nilly, to Tutbury Town and the Bishop of
Hereford.
Pages:
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436