"Out on
thee with thy honied phrases, thy quipsome lilting rhymes! Here go I to do
a thing I ha' no lust to do--and all by reason o' thee! Off--off wi' the
halter, lads--loose the hangman-claws of him! Hereafter, since he can pay
no ransom, he shall be our serf; to have a hangman fetch and carry shall
be rare, methinks!"
Quoth JOCELYN: How much should hangman's flesh be worth i' the greenwood,
Robin?
"Why, brother, 'tis poor, sad and dismal knave; five gold pieces shall buy
him, aye--halter and all, and 'tis fair, good halter, look you!"
"Why, then," said Jocelyn, opening his wallet, "behold the monies, so do I
buy him of thee--"
"Now, by Saint Nick!" cried Robin, amazed. "Nay, brother, an thou'lt buy so
sorry a thing, give thy money to the merry lads; I'll none on't. And now,"
said he, the money duly paid, "what wilt do wi' thy hangman?"
"Sir Fool," cried Ranulph, falling on his knees at Jocelyn's feet, "fain
would I serve thee--e'en to the peril o' the life thou hast saved. Bid me
labour for thee and in labour shall be my joy, bid me fight for thee and I
will fight whiles life is in me; bid me follow thee and I will follow even
unto--"
"Nay, hangman," said Jocelyn, "I bid thee rise and sing for us, and so be
gone wheresoever thou wilt.
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