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he came softly to the river bank and laying him down upon the grass；
peered over the edge and down below。
All was cool and shady beneath the bank。 A stout osier grew；
not straight upward； but leaning across the water； shadowing the spot
with its soft foliage。 All around grew a mass of feathery ferns
such as hide and nestle in cool places； and up to Robin's nostrils
came the tender odor of the wild thyme； that loves the moist verges
of running streams。 Here； with his broad back against the rugged
trunk of the willow tree； and half hidden by the soft ferns
around him； sat a stout； brawny fellow； but no other man was there。
His head was as round as a ball； and covered with a mat of
close…clipped； curly black hair that grew low down on his forehead。
But his crown was shorn as smooth as the palm of one's hand；
which； together with his loose robe； cowl； and string of beads；
showed that which his looks never would have done； that he was a friar。
His cheeks were as red and shining as a winter crab； albeit they
were nearly covered over with a close curly black beard；
as were his chin and upper lip likewise。 His neck was thick
like that of a north country bull； and his round head closely set
upon shoulders e'en a match for those of Little John himself。
Beneath his bushy black brows danced a pair of little gray
eyes that could not stand still for very drollery of humor。
No man could look into his face and not feel his heartstrings tickled
by the merriment of their look。 By his side lay a steel cap；
which he had laid off for the sake of the coolness to his crown。
His legs were stretched wide apart； and betwixt his knees he held
a great pasty compounded of juicy meats of divers kinds made savory
with tender young onions； both meat and onions being mingled
with a good rich gravy。 In his right fist he held a great piece
of brown crust at which he munched sturdily； and every now and then
he thrust his left hand into the pie and drew it forth full of meat；
anon he would take a mighty pull at a great bottle of Malmsey
that lay beside him。
〃By my faith；〃 quoth Robin to himself； 〃I do verily believe that this
is the merriest feast； the merriest wight； the merriest place；
and the merriest sight in all merry England。 Methought there was
another here； but it must have been this holy man talking to himself。〃
So Robin lay watching the Friar； and the Friar； all unknowing that
he was so overlooked； ate his meal placidly。 At last he was done；
and； having first wiped his greasy hands upon the ferns and wild thyme
（and sweeter napkin ne'er had king in all the world）； he took up
his flask and began talking to himself as though he were another man；
and answering himself as though he were somebody else。
〃Dear lad； thou art the sweetest fellow in all the world；
I do love thee as a lover loveth his lass。 La； thou dost
make me shamed to speak so to me in this solitary place；
no one being by； and yet if thou wilt have me say so；
I do love thee as thou lovest me。 Nay then； wilt thou not
take a drink of good Malmsey？ After thee； lad； after thee。
Nay； I beseech thee； sweeten the draught with thy lips
（here he passed the flask from his right hand to his left）。
An thou wilt force it on me so； I must needs do thy bidding；
yet with the more pleasure do I so as I drink thy very great health
（here he took a long； deep draught）。 And now； sweet lad；
'tis thy turn next （here he passed the bottle from his left
hand back again to his right）。 I take it； sweet chuck；
and here's wishing thee as much good as thou wishest me。〃
Saying this； he took another draught； and truly he drank
enough for two。
All this time merry Robin lay upon the bank and listened； while his
stomach so quaked with laughter that he was forced to press his palm
across his mouth to keep it from bursting forth； for； truly； he would
not have spoiled such a goodly jest for the half of Nottinghamshire。
Having gotten his breath from his last draught； the Friar began talking
again in this wise： 〃Now； sweet lad； canst thou not sing me a song？
La； I know not； I am but in an ill voice this day； prythee ask me not；
dost thou not hear how I croak like a frog？ Nay； nay； thy voice
is as sweet as any bullfinch； come； sing； I prythee； I would rather
hear thee sing than eat a fair feast。 Alas； I would fain not sing
before one that can pipe so well and hath heard so many goodly songs
and ballads； ne'ertheless； an thou wilt have it so； I will do my best。
But now methinks that thou and I might sing some fair song together；
dost thou not know a certain dainty little catch called ‘The Loving Youth
and the Scornful Maid'？ Why； truly； methinks I have heard it ere now。
Then dost thou not think that thou couldst take the lass's part gif
I take the lad's？ I know not but I will try； begin thou with the lad
and I will follow with the lass。〃
Then； singing first with a voice deep and gruff； and anon in one high
and squeaking； he blithely trolled the merry catch of
THE LOVING YOUTH AND THE SCORNFUL MAID _HE
〃Ah； it's wilt thou come with me； my love？
And it's wilt thou； love； he mine？
For I will give unto thee； my love；
Gay knots and ribbons so fine。
I'll woo thee； love； on my bended knee；
And I'll pipe sweet songs to none but thee。
Then it's hark！ hark！ hark！
To the winged lark
And it's hark to the cooing dove！
And the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill；
So come thou and be my love。
SHE
〃Now get thee away； young man so fine；
Now get thee away； I say；
For my true love shall never be thine；
And so thou hadst better not stay。
Thou art not a fine enough lad for me；
So I'll wait till a better young man I see。
For it's hark！ hark！ hark！
To the winged lark；
And it's hark to the cooing dove！
And the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill；
Yet never I'll be thy love。
HE
〃Then straight will I seek for another fair she；
For many a maid can be found；
And as thou wilt never have aught of me；
By thee will I never be bound。
For never is a blossom in the field so rare；
But others are found that are just as fair。
So it's hark！ hark！ hark！
To the joyous lark
And it's hark to the cooing dove！
And the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill；
And I'll seek me another dear love。
SHE
〃Young man； turn not so very quick away
Another fair lass to find。
Methinks I have spoken in haste today；
Nor have I made up my mind_；
_
And if thou only wilt stay with me；
I'll love no other； sweet lad； but thee_。〃
Here Robin could contain himself no longer but burst forth into a mighty
roar of laughter； then； the holy Friar keeping on with the song； he joined
in the chorus； and together they sang； or； as one might say； bellowed：
〃_So it's hark！ hark！ hark！
To the joyous lark
And it's hark to the cooing dove！
For the bright daffodil
Groweth down by