Page 192 - the-merry-adventures-of-robin-hood

from the tangled depths of the sweet woodlands, but full as
fair. Thus Robin led his band, walking blithely with chest
thrown out and head thrown back, snuffing the odors of the
gentle breeze that came drifting from over the hayfields.
‘Truly,’ quoth he, ‘the dear world is as fair here as in the
woodland shades. Who calls it a vale of tears? Methinks it
is but the darkness in our minds that bringeth gloom to the
world. For what sayeth that merry song thou singest, Little
John? Is it not thus?

‘For when my love’s eyes do thine, do thine,
And when her lips smile so rare,
The day it is jocund and fine, so fine,
Though let it be wet or be fair
And when the stout ale is all flowing so fast,
Our sorrows and troubles are things of the past.’

‘Nay,’ said Friar Tuck piously, ‘ye do think of profane
things and of nought else; yet, truly, there be better safe-
guards against care and woe than ale drinking and bright
eyes, to wit, fasting and meditation. Look upon me, have I
the likeness of a sorrowful man?’
At this a great shout of laughter went up from all around,
for the night before the stout Friar had emptied twice as
many canakins of ale as any one of all the merry men.
‘Truly,’ quoth Robin, when he could speak for laughter, ‘I
should say that thy sorrows were about equal to thy good-
liness.’
So they stepped along, talking, singing, jesting, and

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