Пригоди Робін Гуда
Little John and the Tanner of Blyth
Come,buskthee,LittleJohn!Stirthoselazybonesofthine,forthoumustgettheestraightwaytoourgoodgossip,thedraperHughLongshanksofAncaster.BidhimsendusstraightwaytwentyscoreyardsoffairclothofLincolngreen;andmayhapthejourneymaytakesomeofthefatfromoffthybones,thatthouhastgottenfromlazylivingatourdearSheriff’s."
"Nay,"mutteredLittleJohn(forhehadheardsomuchuponthisscorethathewassoreuponthepoint),"nay,truly,mayhapIhavemorefleshuponmyjointsthanIoncehad,yet,fleshornoflesh,IdoubtnotthatIcouldstillholdmyplaceandfootinguponanarrowbridgeagainste’erayeomaninSherwood,orNottinghamshire,forthematterofthat,eventhoughhehadnomorefatabouthisbonesthanthouhast,goodmaster."
Atthisreplyagreatshoutoflaughterwentup,andalllookedatRobinHood,foreachmanknewthatLittleJohnspakeofacertainfightthathappenedbetweentheirmasterandhimself,throughwhichtheyfirstbecameacquainted.
"Nay,"quothRobinHood,laughinglouderthanall."HeavenforbidthatIshoulddoubtthee,forIcarefornotasteofthystaffmyself,LittleJohn.Imustneedsownthattherearethoseofmybandcanhandleaseven-footstaffmoredeftlythanI;yetnomaninallNottinghamshirecandrawgraygooseshaftwithmyfingers.
