"Ha!" roared the leader of the band in a great big voice of joy, "have we then caught thee at last, thou blue-clad knave?
Now, blessed be the name of Saint Hubert, for we are fourscore pounds richer this minute than we were before, for the good Bishop of Hereford hath promised that much to the band that shall bring thee to him.

Oho! thou cunning rascal! thou wouldst look so innocent, forsooth! We know thee, thou old fox.

But off thou goest with us to have thy brush clipped forthwith." At these words the poor Cobbler gazed all around him with his great blue eyes as round as those of a dead fish, while his mouth gaped as though he had swallowed all his words and so lost his speech.
Robin also gaped and stared in a wondering way, just as the Cobbler would have done in his place.

"Alack-a-daisy, me," quoth he.

"I know not whether I be sitting here or in No-man's-land! What meaneth all this stir i' th' pot, dear good gentlemen?
Surely this is a sweet, honest fellow." "'Honest fellow,' sayst thou, clown ?" quoth one of the men "Why, I tell thee that this is that same rogue that men call Robin Hood." At this speech the Cobbler stared and gaped more than ever, for there was such a threshing of thoughts going on within his poor head that his wits were all befogged with the dust and chaff thereof.