Story of Robin Hood and His Merrie Men, The (1952)

[bunniefuu]

♪ Oh, I'll sing a song, a rollicky song

♪ As I roll along my way

♪ With a hay-dairy-die
and a dairy-die-do

♪ And a riddle-dee-diddle-dee-day

♪ On to the tale of Robin Hood

♪ And of his Merrie Men

♪ His like you are not like to see
in all the world again

♪ His bow was long
His arm was strong

♪ And his heart was good and true

♪ Well did he fight to gain the right

♪ And so, I pray, may you ♪

[whistles tune]

[woman] Marian.

Marian.

Tyb, isn't that daughter of mine
ready to leave?

Aye, My Lord.

I have her ready,
decked and adorned like any daffodil.

There be no other lady half so fine.

When the queen set eye on my pretty,
she'll take her, My Lord, never fear.

Then find the girl quickly, good Tyb.

Unless we leave,
I shall miss the king at Nottingham.

Yes, My Lord.

Marian.

Marian! Pray,
take that naughty gadabout.

Playing Wool-O'-The-Wisp
at a time like this. Marian!

Marian!

Master Fitzooth.

Where's that harum-scarum son of yours?

The maid's not with Robin,
if that's what you mean.

Find one bad penny, you'll find two.

Nay. My lad's alone in the meadow.

Drawing his bow against a willow wand.

[giggling]

Did you miss the mark again,
poor fellow?

- Oh!
- [laughing]

There's more than one way
to bring down a quarry.

[woman] Marian! Marian!

[gasps] Saints above. Now, look at you.

With My Lord, the earl, kept waiting,

while you lie groveling in the dirt
and showing your garter.

A lady who is old enough
to serve the queen

should be old enough to act the lady.
[clucking disapproval]

Very well, then.

Inform the earl,
my dear lord and father,

I will attend him presently.

You have my leave to go, good Tyb.

Well!

And you, good rogue,
have my gracious leave

to pine and fret till my return.

- Why should I?
- To please a lady.

If I could please myself,
I'd take the cross

and follow my king to the Holy Land.

It will come
to the same thing in the end.

Chop off infidel heads enough,
you'd come back a knight.

As a knight, you'd go jousting
in a tournament, to please a lady,

and have your own head chopped off.

Ah, it'd be worth it.

Is she so passing fair?

- Aye.
- Describe her to me, Robin.

- Well, she's very...
- [Tyb] Marian!

- Come now!
- Your father's waiting.

I know, I know. Tell me quickly.

Well, she's tall and stately,

with bonny blue eyes and golden hair.

And above all, she's sweetly-tempered.

Oooh!

Farewell, clodhopper.

I would you were coming with us,
brother John.

I was not born
to conquer kingdoms, Richard.

Then while I'm gone,
you must help me govern mine.

Our midland counties need
the firm guidance of a princely heir.

I pledge you my faith.

I will uphold and administer your laws
with the strictest diligence.

Diligence, yes.
Tempered with understanding.

The strength of England stems from
the well-being of her humblest peasant.

Let your first care be for our kingdom,

your second for our Lady Mother.

A woman who has reared two sons
like you can look after herself.

[chuckling]

Welcome, Huntington.

Rise up, man. Do not kneel
to a brother knight of the cross.

Now, truly, we can say the best and
bravest of our realm are gathered here.

God make us worthy of your trust, sire.

But before we go, I have a boon
to ask of the queen, your mother.

I pray you, madam,

take my girl into your household
till my return?

Come here, child.

What is your name?

Marian, madam.

Marian. A sweet and gentle name.

Does your nature match it?

- If it pleased the queen.
- Rise, then.

I will take her,
and in your absence keep her safe.

I humbly thank you, madam.

My Lord King, I, too, would beg a boon.

What, another petitioner?
Say answer, sheriff.

My men and I would
follow our king across the seas.

Granted. The king wills it.

Find a Sheriff of Nottingham
and men for him.

I will, My Lord.

[crowd cheering]

My Lord, Archbishop of Canterbury.

We ask a blessing on this,
our most holy enterprise.

Almighty God, lord of battles,

lead the armies of the cross
to the holy places

and give them, we beseech Thee,

victory in the coming strife.

Grant wisdom and guidance
to the princes of Christendom.

And vouch safe that those who fall

may enter the glory of Thy kingdom.

[crowd] Amen.

To horse!

Advance by banner!

- God wills it.
- [men] God wills it!

[choral music]

Dulacey.

My prince.

A heavy responsibility
rests upon me from this hour.

Kings have died on crusades.

The prince in line for the succession
needs men about him he can trust.

My Lord, I am yours as blade to hilt.

Good. You shall be
my new Sheriff of Nottingham.

As sheriff, you will enforce the
trespass laws in Sherwood Forest,

not with Richard's lenient hand,
but to the very letter of those laws.

For such a task,
we'll need a larger posse.

- We'll need an army.
- Aye.

An army. An army of hard shooters.

Men that can feather their arrows
at ten score yards,

should their prince so much
as whisper his command.

Can your estate
maintain so large a force?

Our men will maintain themselves...

...gathering my new taxes.

My Lord, you have a kingly mind.

Then bestir you, man.

I shall see the finest bowmen in the
kingdom wearing the sheriff's livery.

Give me a fortnight
and I'll have such men enlisted.

You shall show me what they can do at
the sh**ting match at Nottingham Fair.

[trumpets playing fanfare]

There they are, sir.
Hand-picked for their marksmanship.

I'm waiting to see them win.

[man] ♪ Good fortune have I...

[man 2] Mind you sh**t well.

♪ Beware

♪ Oh, ye archers at Nottingham Fair

♪ Thy new sheriff's hirelings
Beware, oh

♪ Since they levy a tax
on thy chattels elsewhere

♪ They may here tax thy bow

♪ And thine arrow ♪

Fitzooth and his lad
will tax the sheriff.

Aye. They'll help
to bring his bullies down a peg.

- [cheering]
- [trumpets play fanfare]

My Lords, the upshotties,

Clifton out, Tapers out,

Adam of Lesley, out.

[crowd murmuring]

The final match will be shot

at a distance of 120 paces.

The remaining archers

are Robin Fitzooth of Huntington...

[crowd cheering]

- ...Hugh Fitzooth of Huntington...
- [cheering]

...Red Gill, in the service
of the Sheriff of Nottingham.

[crowd murmuring]

The crowd are not cheering your bowmen.

My men have been gathering
some small part of the new taxes.

Red Gill will win for us.

There's not a man in England
can outshoot him at such a distance.

- [applause]
- Lovely shot.

True and clean.

Huh! Can your tuppeny bow do better
than that, my beardless whelp?

Don't be distracted, lad.

You must expect such rudeness
from the men who serve our new sheriff.

Their manners
but match their deeds of late.

[crowd cheering]

Forgive me, sir, if in beating him,
I robbed you of a chance to win.

My lad, no man is beat
until he admits it.

[crowd] Oooh! [applause]

Good bowmen, come forward and receive
this golden arrow as your reward.

Well and truly have you won it.

My Lady paramount,
I beg a favor of Your Grace.

Give the prize to him
whose arrow hit the mark first,

and no less truly than mine.

- Well said, good yeoman.
- [applause]

Thank you, My Queen.

To please a lady.

Your archery's vastly improved.

There was no one
to meddle with my target.

Then mayhap I deserve the prize.

Thank you, Robin.

To remind me of this day
wherever I may go.

- Do you leave Nottingham?
- Today.

I journey with the queen to London.

God keep you.

Hear me, good yeoman.

[man] Bring out the barrel!

[sheriff] Good yeomen, hear me.

Our gracious lord, Prince John,
has given a barrel of English ale

from the ripe October brewing
for all you brave rogues

who drew bows before the queen.

[cheering]

Would you eat and drink of the best,
then hear ye.

Every man who hit the white at 80 paces

is free to take service with me.

I'll have high bows only,
no dribblers and squirters.

[laughter]

If you'd be men of mine, step forward.

- [man 1] I'll follow.
- [man 2] I'm with you.

What say you, good Fitzooth?

Would you and your son
change your coats?

Twenty marks a man
will be your wage at Christmastime.

I will not change my coat.
Nor will my lad change his.

In the old days, I'd have been proud
to wear King Richard's livery.

But a forester in Sherwood nowadays
is no better than a tax gatherer,

or a sheriff's bully.

I'll not raise my bow
against my neighbor.

- Silence!
- I will not keep silence.

It's time an honest man spoke out.

- [man 1] Fitzooth speaks my mind.
- [man 2] Mine too.

[men murmuring]

What do you do
when the c*ck crows too loud?

Trim his curl.

'Tis a pity the queen
will not remain in Nottingham.

- The maid with the golden arrow?
- I mean the queen.

A man who defies the sheriff
as you did may need her help.

I'll speak my mind as an Englishman,

and no lickspittle sheriff
shall say me nay.

[groaning]

[hoofbeats approaching]

After him!

[bird chirping]

[whistling]

[playing lute]

♪ I've tidings to tell
And new songs, as well

♪ Of the wonders I've seen far and wide

♪ But if you'd hear a tale
from Allan-a-Dale

♪ You must first drop a penny inside

[whistling tune]

♪ Oh, Robin, who is called Fitzooth

♪ Is dwelling in the wood

♪ His coat is changed to Lincoln green

♪ And his name to Robin Hood

♪ Now Robin Hood doth hunt the deer

♪ That in the woodlands prance

♪ But oft times shoots the sheriff's men

♪ By sorrowful mischance ♪

- Aye, but Robin, he had good cause.
- [laughter]

'Tis known who m*rder*d his father.

Harken. Harken.

"Having been informed of the felonies,
robberies and murders

committed by the man
known as 'Robin Hood,'

our liege, Lord, Prince John,

has pronounced upon Robin Hood
sentence of outlawry."

You must catch Robin Hood
before you can hang him.

And you'll find he's not alone.

There's many a good lad
who's taken up his cause.

This will hang him.

With 40 marks on his head,
his best friend will fetch him in.

You will wear your legs to your knees

before you'll find any Judas
that hungry for blood money.

♪ Poor Robin Hood
With a riddle-dee-diddle-dee-day

♪ He robs the rich to aid the poor

♪ A most unusual practice

♪ But now that he has been outlawed

♪ He needn't pay his taxes

♪ Oh, I'll a-sing a song
A rollicky song

♪ As I roll along my way

♪ With a hey-dairy-die
and a dairy-die-do

♪ And a riddle-dee-riddle-dee-day-de-day
With a riddle-dee-diddle-dee-day ♪

[boy] Leave them alone!

You can't take them away.

Have you questioned him?

He's only a poor jackrabbit
who will not pay his tax.

I cannot pay the tax, sir.

I've paid My Lord's levy,
but if you take my cattle...

What are you called?

Scathelock's my name.

Will you keep your cattle
and go free of the tax?

Show me how, Sir Sheriff.

Report has it that you aided Robin Hood
and know of his whereabouts.

Lead us to him and our reward
will pay your tax thrice over.

Bring him along.

- Another poacher?
- I caught him sh**ting the king's deer.

I had no other meat.

To pay the tax to graze my swine,
I sold my calf.

For the tax to build a sheepfold,
I sacrificed my pigs.

When your foresters
had me out of house and home

whilst taxing me for gathering nuts,
I fared in the forest and k*lled a deer.

Can we give him his ears to eat?

Nay. Use your knife on the deer.

Bring me the hide to Nottingham Square
and this carrion with it,

and he shall have his belly
full of our hospitality.

After him.

[arrow ringing]

[arrow ringing]

Off with your curtals
and on with your rags.

There's a need for beggaring
in Nottingham Square.

[sheriff] Hoist him up.

Let this be a warning to all
who would break our midland laws.

If there be others amongst you
who think to live by poaching,

the evasion of taxes
and the shielding of outlaws,

behold the punishment I have in store.

Begin.

[crowd murmuring]

Shame. Shame! Shame!

- Shame.
- Shame.

[crowd shouting angrily]

[cheering]

[crowd booing]

Drive the cattle out of the square.

Where is this force of 100 new foresters
you've been boasting of?

Throughout the countryside, gathering
the tax money it takes to maintain them.

While a handful of outlaws
enter Nottingham in daylight,

mock our justice,
put us to shame before the townsmen.

My Lord, I am guilty of holding
this Robin Hood too lightly.

On the morrow, I, myself,
will lead a full force against him.

Before I return, I will rid
Sherwood Forest of this outlaw

and every last one of his men.

I give you my promise.

Oh!

- The salt will hurt, but it will heal.
- [groaning] Rub away.

I'd bellow like a bull calf
if you did that to me.

He'll wear no shirt for five days.

I'll not wait so long
to put on Lincoln green.

[arrow ringing]

Red and white, cousin Will.

What's the meaning?

Maybe friend, maybe foe.
We'll go with you.

Nay. If I need your help, I'll call.

Stand aside, fellow.

Wherefore?

To let the better man pass.

Then you stand aside.

Were you as tall as your pride,
Goliath, this would bring you down.

An arrow against a staff
was never a man's game.

By my faith, no man's ever
put the coward's name on me.

Will you wait here while I cut a cudgel?

Aye.

- Come on, little David.
- You know how that bout ended.

Well done, lad.
I'll pay you back if I can.

[chuckling]

I like a man who can take his dunking.

[chuckles]

[man laughing]

Whoo! Beat me with bow strings
if I dispute any more bridges with you.

You've cracked my head,
soaked my hide and...

...drowned my hunting horn.

[blowing horn]

- How are you known?
- I'm called John Little.

I seek a prescribed and banished man
named Robin Hood.

- To what end?
- To join him and I care not who knows.

Well, he's not far off.

How now, good master Robin?

- Be you Robin Hood?
- I be.

Well, now, John Little,
I hope you hold no hard thoughts

for the drubbing I gave you.

None.

Would you be of a mind to join us,
John Little?

You would eat fresh meat every day,
sleep soft, have money in your poke.

So be it, you sh**t your own meat

and make your own bed
and collect your own wages

to give to poor souls in greater need.

I'm your man. Here's my hand on it.

What say you, lads?
Shall we christen our infant?

- [all] Aye!
- Fetch me a hatful of water.

Nay? Nay.

If he'll not have us bring water to him,
we'll bring him to water.

[men laughing]

One, two, three!

[all laughing]

John Little, I dub thee "Little John."

Rise up, Little John.

[men laughing]

Are you still with us, Little John?

- I am.
- [all] Hey, hey!

By all the saints, Will Scarlet,
you christen like a true churchman.

Yet I wish we had
some man in holy orders

to care for our souls
and look to our wounds.

I know of one. A holy hermit
who lives near Alfred Abbey.

Upstream from here.

He'd rather break heads than mend them.

They call him Friar Tuck.

Think not, Me Lady,

I've not brought thee to this solitary
place to woo thee with words alone.

[high-pitched voice] Nay, good lad.

I will drink no wine,

lest my head be dissent
with thy sweet blandishments.

Oh. [high-pitched voice] Nay, nay, nay.

[normal voice] Well, try the meat pie.

'Tis very savory.

[high-pitched voice]
Well, the merest morsel may I have.

[chuckling]

[grunts]

We have meat and drink enough.

But what is meat and drink
without a merry song?

[high-pitched voice] ♪ Mi mi mi mi

[low-pitched voice] ♪ Mi mi mi mi

[humming pitch]

♪ There was a lover and his lass

♪ Sat 'neath a spreading oak

♪ And lest his heart should break apart

♪ The doting lover spoke

♪ Come sing low, come sing high

♪ Come change thy name to mine

♪ And you shall eat my capon pie

♪ And drink my mumsy wine

Now, both together.

♪ The maiden turned her head away

♪ And answered ill at ease

[giggling]

[high-pitched voice]
♪ Is it in sport you pay me court

♪ With such low words as these?

[low-pitched voice] ♪ So... [belches]

Pardon, pretty.

♪ Come sing low, come sing high

♪ Come change thy name to mine

♪ And you shall eat my capon pie

- [Robin joins in]
- ♪ And drink my mumsy wine

- [both] ♪ And drink my mumsy... ♪
- [Robin] ♪ Wine ♪

Spy on me, would you?
I'll smote thee nose!

[laughing] Nay, we should not quarrel,
now we've sung together so sweetly.

What seek ye here?

Why, I... I come but to pray.

In yonder abbey. Is there no bridge?

None, but since you go to pray,

I'll not stop you
from wading across as others do.

Oh, thank you.

Your kindness tempts me
to ask a greater boon.

Would you lend me the breadth of
your back to carry me over the stream?

Since you press me
with such arguments...

Hmm...

Ah, well, the scriptures sayeth

we must bear one another's burdens.

[laughs] What marvels have I seen today?

A friar singing a love song
and a horse quoting scripture.

Ha!

How now?

I carried you over,
you can carry me back.

♪ Come sing low, come sing high

♪ Come change thy name to mine...
Oh!

♪ Low, low, low, low
Low, low, low, low...

[grunting]

Now, Jack Priest,
the game's turned my way again.

I'm still of a mind
to gain the further shore.

[Robin humming]

Whoa!

Stand where you are.

Take the outlaw alive.

Back. You shall not interfere
till I am done with him.

- Step aside, priest.
- Look you.

Until our private fight is settled,
your claim upon him can wait.

- Throw the priest into the river.
- Stand back!

Come on.

[blowing horn]

[men shouting]

Take cover!

Come on.

[men shouting]

[whistling]

[barking]

[growling, snarling]

Call off your dog, friar.
He's shown the sheriff enough sport.

- [men shouting]
- [friar whistles]

Now it's our turn
to do His Lordship honor.

- [men chattering]
- Hey, hey!

Welcome, Me Lordship.

Welcome to Sherwood.

Oh, h*!
They brought in the big buck, himself.

Must have given him a wicked appetite.

- You had good hunting, Robin?
- Aye.

A lordly guest has condescended
to grace our table.

Pray, be seated, My Lord.

We do not stand upon ceremony here.

[Robin] Unbind his eyes.

No man in England's been at greater
pains to have a look at our home.

Surely, My Lord,
you'll not disdain our fare?

I have no taste
for venison k*lled by poachers.

Can you put an edge
on his appetite, Stutely?

Fill him a bowl of ale.
Help him wash it down.

You eat and drink of the best
when you dine with us.

That ale's of the ripe October brewing.

The Bishop of Hereford
was sending it to you.

But, uh, we diverted it to a nobler use.

But with it we pledge our king.

[men] To King Richard.

My Lord, Sheriff.

On your feet, sir.

I'll give you a health.

Here's to Richard of England.

Speak up, man.

Here's to Richard of England.

God grant him health and long life.

God grant him health and long life.

And bring confusion on his enemies,
be they peasant...

And bring confusion on his enemies,
be they peasant...

...or prince.

...or prince.

- Richard of England.
- [men] The king.

By the faith of my body, now that you
pledged your king as a servant should,

we'll speed you on your way.

That is, when he's paid for his cheer.

- [man] Aye!
- [laughter]

Will you look to the reckoning, friar?

And give fair dealing
as an honest son of the Church?

I will, me master.

Clear the way.

For the meal, nine pennies.

For this lad's back, nine crowns.

For the loss of my cattle, 20 shillings.

Twenty more for my barn burned
and my taxes tripled.

Ten shillings more...

- Four marks for my stolen horse.
- My son thrown down a well.

Roughly, one hundred and...

Two hundred shillings.

You thieving muck priest.
Why don't you join them too?

God forgive me,
but it seems I have already.

[laughter]

Let's see the color
of Your Lordship's money.

[men] Hurray!

You'll pay for this! My men
will take you yet and hang you too!

- As an example to other rebels!
- Well and good.

But first,
we'll make a spectacle of you.

Whereby the poor you persecute
will find new courage to resist.

Adam, fetch His Lordship's horse.

Sir Sheriff, here's your saddle bow.

[all laughing]

I pray you bring good news, My Lord.

We are 30,000 marks nearer our goal.

The monasteries
have melted up their plate,

hearing the king
stood in need of ransom.

God bless them. What else?

Nothing.

London and southern counties
have given their all,

as have the barons of the north.

Yet a fourth of the ransom
is still to be raised.

Have no fear, My Lord.

The wealth of our midland counties
will provide that amount and more.

We can rely on Prince John.

Madam...

...your son, Prince John,
has refused to contribute one stiver

on behalf of your son, Richard.

My Lord, Archbishop,
he is the king's blood brother.

He shall not hold back money
in face of the king's need.

How could I guess the royal coffers
would not supply the ransom?

You could have listened
to my messengers.

They didn't reach me.

But now that I know my brother's plight,

upon the morrow I'll order
a public donation in Nottingham Square.

Even though I be ashamed
that the poor outgive me.

Shamed, indeed.

You could spare yourself
such grave humiliation

by giving until they gape and gasp
at your heroic generosity.

Would that I could.

The truth is that my nobles
and I alike are impoverished.

Your brother gave you
the ordering of eight earldoms.

Do their rents and tax monies
yield you no revenue?

The money goes out
as fast as it comes in.

I've been forced
to support hundreds of foresters.

- Well nigh an army.
- To protect whom against what?

To protect the realm against a cursed
outlaw who loots the countryside.

With stolen wealth,
he's bribed a following so numerous

that he threatens our state
with civil w*r.

- Who is this outlaw?
- Robin Hood.

He that was named Robin Fitzooth,

before he took to Sherwood Forest
to hide his misdeeds.

[Marian] It cannot be!

Hugh Fitzooth
is my father's chief verderer.

Both he and his son,
Robin, are men of honor.

Hugh Fitzooth is dead.

He was k*lled for sh**ting
a king's forester in the back.

His son has m*rder*d
three score foresters since.

Whoever k*lled Hugh Fitzooth
m*rder*d the king's most loyal subject.

Loyal subject, indeed.

Good madam,
he could have been no less.

As for the son, Robin and I
were playmates at Huntington.

I've known him all my life.

And I know he loves the king.

He loves him better in a foreign prison.

Once we bring Richard and his army back,
your outlaw dare not ply his trade.

Send me to Robin Fitzooth.
I'll prove to you his loyalty.

- I cannot, Marian.
- But with an escort?

I have you in trust from your father.

Let her go seek out her swain.

If the earl's proud daughter has
already been nicked by Cupid's darts,

what harm can outlaws' arrows do?

- I pray you, madam.
- No, my child.

- But My Lady...
- Enough.

You shall not set foot
outside the castle walls.

Good morrow, My Lady.

Good morrow, Giles.

Mistress Marian, why so sad?

If there's anything I can do,
My Lady, you've but to command me.

The queen's forbidden me to leave.

I wish Prince John would forbid me.

I've walked as far as Jerusalem,
just making trips to Nottingham town.

I'm on my way there now
to fetch the sheriff.

Before I find him, I may trudge
halfway to Sherwood Forest.

Giles!

♪ Oh, the sheriff
with three score bowmen

♪ Rode out of Nottingham town

♪ But Robin Hood left those bowmen
a-gasping on the ground

♪ Oh, the sheriff
He dined with Robin Hood

♪ And when he had paid the score

♪ Back to Nottingham spurred
But from what I heard

♪ He rode hindside to fore

♪ So here's to the tail
in the sheriff's hand

♪ And here's to the bowl in thine

♪ And when you have drunk
to Robin Hood

♪ Pray, leave a penny in mine
In mine

♪ Pray, leave a penny in mine ♪

[man] We must away now.
There's work to be done.

[whistling tune]

[c*ck crows, cow moos]

God bless you, young master.

[man] What say you, Allan-a-Dale?

Can you give us fill the bowl?

I can, but you must go to Clipston
if you want to hear it.

Save for this young gentleman, there's
small regard for a minstrel here.

Looky, to reach Clipston
you must pass through Sherwood Forest.

And if you meet the man you sing about,
you'll wish yourself safe back here.

[whistling tune]

May I...

- [deeper voice] May I keep you company?
- Aye, lad, and welcome.

Hey, Midge, ain't you afraid
of outlaws, neither?

It would be shame on England
if a minstrel's lute

be stouter than a miller's staff.

[minstrel whistling tune]

Hey, there, minstrel.

[whistling stops]

Looky.

I'll have ye sing me a song right now.

- What will you have?
- The one about Master Robin Hood.

- You've heard it already.
- It would do no harm to hear it again.

If Master Robin chanced to hear it,
it would show him we're on his side.

Aye.

♪ Oh, the sheriff
with three score bowmen

♪ Rode out to Nottingham town

♪ But Robin Hood left those bowmen
a-gasping on the... ♪

I trust you like the song, my masters.

- Is that all of it?
- Yes.

No, sir. Uh...

♪ Now, here's to good, kind Robin Hood

♪ And his bold yeomanry

♪ There's no better man than Scarlet

Uh...

♪ Or Little John

♪ In all our fair country ♪

[laughter]

Nay. There's one man only
shall pass the hat in Sherwood Forest.

I spent my last penny.

Good sir, Midge the Miller is known
far and wide as a poor, honest tradesman

with no money at all.

Midge the Miller is known
as "Midge the Miser."

- What's in that bag?
- Naught in the sack but flour.

Oh, then I'll empty it out.

And if there's no gold,
I'll pay you for the flour.

But if I find gold
in the bottom of the bag,

then we'll help you make
a contribution to the poor.

Good master, I beg of you.

- Would you rob a poor miller?
- Friend, we are but equalizing taxes.

We do it better to music.
Strike up a tune.

[plays and hums upbeat tune]

Spare me the flour
and you'll have the money.

[Robin] Ah!

[minstrel continues playing tune]

- [coughing]
- [minstrel continues playing]

I'll dust your coat.

Play, blast you, play.

Let me go, you monster.

Let me go!

Hey, John.

Give me that lad.

[Marian squealing]

Let me down, you white face.

- [laughing]
- [Marian grunting]

Well, you're a pretty lad.
And sweetly tempered.

Like a lady I used to know.

I used to know a gentleman
called Robin Fitzooth

who would scorn to be a common thief.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Come now, miller, tell the page
you enjoyed the sport as much as we.

No man's a miser
who gives blows so freely.

Persuade him to join us if you can.

Our band will think us common thieves,
indeed, if we go back empty-handed.

[squealing]

- Hey!
- Come on, minstrel.

The more the merrier.

♪ Saint Edward was for England
Saint Denis was for France

♪ No saint I be, but I'll follow thee
If you'll give me half a chance ♪

[whistles]

[dog barks]

[Friar Tuck] We have robbed the rich
to give to the poor.

Nor have we forsaken our religion,
nor forgotten our rightful king.

- Nay.
- And that is the truth, every word.

As I have hope of heaven.

Well, My Lady, have my men
persuaded you to join us too?

They've convinced me of their honesty.

Yet, one thing I'd know.

If you could choose otherwise,
would you still be outlaws?

The greenwood
has its beauty and abundance.

We find freedom here.

But we're banished men, My Lady.

Many have wives and children.

And some lack wives who want them.

Then give me every penny you possess.

- What would you do with the money?
- Give it to the king's ransom

tomorrow at Nottingham Square.

And everyone could see how much
more loyal you are than Prince John.

He and his nobles
pretend they're too poor to give.

Prince John and that sheriff have
filched enough gold to ransom the king.

That's not what
the prince tells the queen.

He says you outlaws keep him poor

and you dread the king's return
because it'll end your thievery.

There can be but one answer
to a lie so monstrous.

- Let's give it, then.
- [men] Aye!

- Come on.
- [men chattering]

[coins clinking]

[Friar Tuck] Now no holding back.

Come on. There you are, Robin.

'Tis a pity there's not more.

There is more.

[cheering]

Thank you, miller.

- I must be on my way back.
- Come along, then.

Friar Tuck and I will see you sheltered
in Alfred Abbey tonight.

It will be safer if he alone
escorts you the rest of the way.

Then trust that to me.

- God bless you all.
- [men] And you, My Lady.

Goodbye.

If I could find a singer
with a love song in his throat,

I'd rob the poor box to pay him his fee.

♪ Whistle, my love
[whistles tune]

♪ And I will come to thee

♪ I'll always find you

♪ No matter where you may be

♪ Whistle, my love
[whistles tune]

♪ I'll hear you calling me

♪ High on a hilltop

♪ Or under the greenwood tree

♪ Whistle a song I sent to you

♪ When our love was g*y

♪ And every woodland breeze that blows

♪ Will bring it my way

♪ Whistle, my love
[whistling tune]

♪ And I will come to thee

♪ I'll always find you

♪ No matter where you may be

♪ I'll always find you

♪ No matter where you may be ♪

Come, lass, get on my back

and I'll wade you across the stream
before you can say "Robin Hood."

Did I ask you the loan of your back?

You have 'ere now.

Then I'll not double the debt.

I'll go ahead to the abbey and bespeak
a night's lodging for My Lady.

So it's goodbye again.

It will always be goodbye
till King Richard returns.

I fear so.

[gasping]

Do you remember the day
we said goodbye?

I do.

And you were wishing to join the crusade
and go to the Holy Land.

- Yes.
- It's well for England that you didn't.

I wonder.

You're serving your king better here,
Robin Fitzooth.

Thank you, My Lady.

[Friar Tuck] Come along.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

Oh, Robin, will I ever see you again?

God willing.

John of Ruckland has given 300 marks.

[crowd cheering]

Edward of Richmond is the next to give.

Tallyman, you may sum up
Sir Edward's donation.

[crowd murmuring]

Four hundred and thirty.

Edward of Richmond has given 430 marks.

[crowd cheering]

Good Sir Edward, we thank thee
on behalf of our beloved Richard

for thy loyal
and exceeding generous gift.

[applause]

Marian!

My Lady, I beg your forgiveness.

I did not act from willful disobedience.

Love of England compelled me
to seek out the king's real friends

and prove to you their loyalty.

[crowd murmuring]

This purse was given freely
by Robin Fitzooth and his outlawed band.

And with it, their prayers
for King Richard's swift return.

Should such tainted coin be mingled
with the gifts of honorable men?

Were the sum a thousand marks,
our noble king would scorn

to have us buy his freedom
with the money of thieves.

Well said, sheriff.
Where's your 1,000 marks?

Yeah. A thousand marks from the sheriff.

A thousand marks from the sheriff!

[crowd chanting]
A thousand marks from the sheriff!

This outburst is premature.

I am confident that the sheriff
is but waiting his turn

to shame us all with his munificence.

You are right, Reverend Father.

- What say you, Sir Sheriff?
- My loyalty will meet the test.

Bring forth my coffer.

[crowd murmuring]

Proceed with the tally.

Eleven hundred and eighty-seven marks.

You demanded a thousand.

I have given nigh on 1,200.

Though the gift has left me penniless,

I feel no shame if my poverty
will aid the safe release

of our sovereign lord, King Richard.

For such a cause, I would to heaven
I could give 10,000 more.

Heaven has heard you,
My Lord, High Sheriff.

Now God be thanked.

The deliverance of your king is assured.

[crowd cheering]

The sheriff's heart
was bigger than he knew.

Three cheers
for the Sheriff of Nottingham!

[all] Hurray!

[cheering continues]

Enough, good lads, set me down.

Set me down, I say!

- He said down.
- So be it.

Come, lads. Back to Sherwood.

[trumpet plays fanfare]

You sent for me, My Lord?

There goes our tax money.

Tomorrow will see it
on its way to Austria

to save the king
it was meant to overthrow.

Have you those among your bowmen
you would trust on a desperate venture?

Men who hate Robin Hood and fear
the king's return as much as you and I?

I have, indeed, sir. Many such.

What would you have them do?

Disguise themselves
as the outlaws of Robin Hood

and steal our money back.

- Here, My Lord?
- No, tomorrow.

When the queen and archbishop are
conveying the ransom through Sherwood.

It's a brave plan.

We could succeed, but for the girl.

Maid Marian?

She's mingled amongst the real outlaws,
met them face-to-face.

She could see through our deception.

Then she shall not accompany the queen.

Hubert.

Bring the Lady Marian to this chamber.

Let her believe that His Grace,
the Archbishop, requests her presence.

As for you, Sir Sheriff,

send forth your men at dawn
dressed in their accustomed livery.

Bid them ride a full 20 miles down
the great road through Sherwood Forest.

There they may lie in wait
for the convoy.

And when they've done the deed,

let them return to the castle straight,
bringing the money in their saddlebags.

My Lord, Archbishop?

This way, My Lady.

Let her go.

The queen shall hear of this.

She'll not be pleased to learn you've
slipped off to join your outlaw lover.

Hubert,

it will be you who caught sight of
someone heading for the forest tonight,

someone dressed as a page.

[arrow ringing]

Stutely. To the south!

h*!

In the name of the king and holy Church,
stand aside and let us pass.

We owe no king save Robin Hood.
Search the wagon.

Halt.

Put down that chest. Do you hear me?

I am Eleanor, Queen of England.

Down on your knees, you traitorous dogs.

Bring out those chests, I say.
Pay no heed to the old bellwether.

The outlaws!

I pray you are unharmed, My Queen.

No thanks to your cutthroat knaves.

They were no men of mine.

Stutely.

These will tell you
whose men they really were.

So will this. Are you one of us?

Then whom do you serve?

The Sheriff of Nottingham.

Who serves Prince John.

Would you discover the brain
behind the stratagem.

God bless you, for the deed
you have done this day.

The king shall hear of you
and your stout lads.

And I shall even forgive you
for stealing my Lady Marian away again.

Marian?

You are a sly rogue, Robin Fitzooth.

My Lady, I've not seen her.

- Where is the maid?
- She left the castle last night.

At least, John told you so.

We shall return at once.

We must move on.
Our first duty is to the king.

But I have a duty to this girl.
I must see to her safety.

[Robin] Nay, My Lady.

Let me.

Lead us to Maid Marian
or forfeit your lives.

Robin!

Oh, Robin.

Quickly.

You'll have us rush the waters,
lower the drawbridge?

Nay. We came as sheriff's men.
We'll leave as such.

Escort to a queen's lady.

When the drawbridge is lowered,
ride out in good order.

Give the order.

Lower the drawbridge.

Now, Sir Sheriff,
here's payment long overdue.

I beg you weigh the consequence.

Would you sign
your own death warrant?

Nay, I'll do it so deft, the waters
will think you fell in her faint.

Spare me, I pray.

I swear on my honor as a knight
I will not cry out if you but spare me.

So be it.

Halt that man!

[grunts]

Back.

Hey, there, minstrel, wake up and sing.

With our leader flat on his back?

What's there to sing about?

[whining]

♪ A sweet rhyming minstrel
feign would I be

[bellowing]
♪ I'd sing like a nightingale

- ♪ All-dee-roll-roll
- [men laughing]

♪ A sweet rhyming minstrel
feign would I be

♪ I'd sing like a nightingale

♪ Tall in the tree

♪ I'd sing of good Robin Hood
Wounded and sick

♪ I'd sing of our king
May he hurry back quick

♪ I'd sing of Prince John
Be it only to mock

♪ If he comes here we'll split him
from noddle to knock

[all] ♪ Noddle to knock
Noddle to knock

♪ We'll split Prince John
from noddle to knock

♪ Noddle to knock, noddle to knock

♪ We'll split Prince John
from noddle to knock

♪ Noddle to knock, noddle to knock
We'll split...

Well, how's our invalid
behaving this morning?

Worse than ever.
Determined he's going to get up.

- What do you think you're doing?
- Getting up.

You are not.

Come now.

- A sup of barley broth.
- I'm sick to death of barley broth.

And what's more, I've been bullied
long enough by you and that...

- ...that turnip-faced friar!
- Hmpf!

- You drink this.
- You drink it.

Pour it down his throat.

[arrow ringing]

Stay in the shelter of the cave.

Which of you is Robin Hood?

I am. What seek you here?

- I come to rid this forest of outlaws.
- [men murmuring]

- Come you from Prince John?
- I come in the king's name.

'Tis ever in the king's name,
no matter what the abuse may be.

And the true king not here
to disclaim it.

- Take off your hood.
- Don't think to order me.

Take your hood off, or I'll knock it
about your ears from here to Nottingham.

[men murmuring]

Pardon our rash,
unwitting words, My Lord King.

I'll forgive you more than that.

England stands deep in debt to you.

And to all your brave bowmen.

Robin Fitzooth,

henceforth you shall be known
as Robin, Earl of Loxley.

Rise up, Sir Robin.

[men cheering]

By the bones of St. Edward,
another outlaw.

My Liege.

- Have you news of my father?
- He awaits you at Huntington,

where the queen has vowed you
are to marry the Earl of Loxley.

My Lord King, have I no choice?

None.

Have you naught to say, Robin Fitzooth?

Who am I to question the dictates
of the Queen Mother

- and of my sovereign king.
- Well said,

my Earl of Loxley.

My gracious sovereign,
I trust the deed were...

[laughter]

♪ With a hey-dairy-die
and a dairy-die-do

♪ And a riddle-dee-diddle-dee-day

♪ And a riddle-dee-diddle-dee-day

♪ Oh, I'll sing a song, a rollicky song

♪ As I roll along my way

♪ With a hey-dairy-die
and a dairy-die-do

♪ And a riddle-dee-diddle-dee-day

♪ And a riddle-dee-diddle-dee-day ♪