Quoth Robin2, “Now will I go to seek this same Friar of Fountain Abbey of whom we spake yesternight, and I will take with me four of my good men, and these four shall be Little John, Will Scarlet3, David of Doncaster, and Arthur a Bland4. Bide5 the rest of you here, and Will Stutely shall be your chief while I am gone.” Then straightway Robin Hood6 donned a fine steel coat of chain mail, over which he put on a light jacket of Lincoln green. Upon his head he clapped a steel cap, and this he covered by one of soft white leather, in which stood a nodding cock’s plume7. By his side he hung a good broadsword of tempered steel, the bluish blade marked all over with strange figures of dragons, winged women, and what not. A gallant9 sight was Robin so arrayed, I wot, the glint of steel showing here and there as the sunlight caught brightly the links of polished mail that showed beneath his green coat.
So, having arrayed himself, he and the four yeomen set forth10 upon their way, Will Scarlet taking the lead, for he knew better than the others whither to go. Thus, mile after mile, they strode along, now across a brawling11 stream, now along a sunlit road, now adown some sweet forest path, over which the trees met in green and rustling12 canopy13, and at the end of which a herd14 of startled deer dashed away, with rattle15 of leaves and crackle of branches. Onward16 they walked with song and jest and laughter till noontide was passed, when at last they came to the banks of a wide, glassy, and lily-padded stream. Here a broad, beaten path stretched along beside the banks, on which path labored17 the horses that tugged18 at the slow-moving barges19, laden20 with barley21 meal or what not, from the countryside to the many-towered town. But now, in the hot silence of the midday, no horse was seen nor any man besides themselves. Behind them and before them stretched the river, its placid22 bosom23 ruffled24 here and there by the purple dusk of a small breeze.
“Now, good uncle,” quoth Will Scarlet at last, when they had walked for a long time beside this sweet, bright river, “just beyond yon bend ahead of us is a shallow ford25 which in no place is deeper than thy mid-thigh, and upon the other side of the stream is a certain little hermitage hidden amidst the bosky tangle27 of the thickets28 wherein dwelleth the Friar of Fountain Dale. Thither29 will I lead thee, for I know the way; albeit30 it is not overhard to find.”
“Nay31,” quoth jolly Robin, stopping suddenly, “had I thought that I should have had to wade32 water, even were it so crystal a stream as this, I had donned other clothes than I have upon me. But no matter now, for after all a wetting will not wash the skin away, and what must be, must. But bide ye here, lads, for I would enjoy this merry adventure alone. Nevertheless, listen well, and if ye hear me sound upon my bugle33 horn, come quickly.” So saying, he turned and left them, striding onward alone.
Robin had walked no farther than where the bend of the road hid his good men from his view, when he stopped suddenly, for he thought that he heard voices. He stood still and listened, and presently heard words passed back and forth betwixt what seemed to be two men, and yet the two voices were wondrously34 alike. The sound came from over behind the bank, that here was steep and high, dropping from the edge of the road a half a score of feet to the sedgy verge36 of the river.
“’Tis strange,” muttered Robin to himself after a space, when the voices had ceased their talking, “surely there be two people that spoke37 the one to the other, and yet methinks their voices are mightily38 alike. I make my vow39 that never have I heard the like in all my life before. Truly, if this twain are to be judged by their voices, no two peas were ever more alike. I will look into this matter.” So saying, he came softly to the river bank and laying him down upon the grass, peered over the edge and down below.
All was cool and shady beneath the bank. A stout osier grew, not straight upward, but leaning across the water, shadowing the spot with its soft foliage40. All around grew a mass of feathery ferns such as hide and nestle in cool places, and up to Robin’s nostrils41 came the tender odor of the wild thyme, that loves the moist verges42 of running streams. Here, with his broad back against the rugged43 trunk of the willow44 tree, and half hidden by the soft ferns around him, sat a stout, brawny45 fellow, but no other man was there. His head was as round as a ball, and covered with a mat of close-clipped, curly black hair that grew low down on his forehead. But his crown was shorn as smooth as the palm of one’s hand, which, together with his loose robe, cowl, and string of beads47, showed that which his looks never would have done, that he was a friar. His cheeks were as red and shining as a winter crab48, albeit they were nearly covered over with a close curly black beard, as were his chin and upper lip likewise. His neck was thick like that of a north country bull, and his round head closely set upon shoulders e’en a match for those of Little John himself. Beneath his bushy black brows danced a pair of little gray eyes that could not stand still for very drollery49 of humor. No man could look into his face and not feel his heartstrings tickled50 by the merriment of their look. By his side lay a steel cap, which he had laid off for the sake of the coolness to his crown. His legs were stretched wide apart, and betwixt his knees he held a great pasty compounded of juicy meats of divers51 kinds made savory52 with tender young onions, both meat and onions being mingled53 with a good rich gravy54. In his right fist he held a great piece of brown crust at which he munched55 sturdily, and every now and then he thrust his left hand into the pie and drew it forth full of meat; anon he would take a mighty56 pull at a great bottle of Malmsey that lay beside him.
“By my faith,” quoth Robin to himself, “I do verily believe that this is the merriest feast, the merriest wight, the merriest place, and the merriest sight in all merry England. Methought there was another here, but it must have been this holy man talking to himself.”
So Robin lay watching the Friar, and the Friar, all unknowing that he was so overlooked, ate his meal placidly57. At last he was done, and, having first wiped his greasy58 hands upon the ferns and wild thyme (and sweeter napkin ne’er had king in all the world), he took up his flask59 and began talking to himself as though he were another man, and answering himself as though he were somebody else.
“Dear lad, thou art the sweetest fellow in all the world, I do love thee as a lover loveth his lass. La, thou dost make me shamed to speak so to me in this solitary60 place, no one being by, and yet if thou wilt61 have me say so, I do love thee as thou lovest me. Nay then, wilt thou not take a drink of good Malmsey? After thee, lad, after thee. Nay, I beseech62 thee, sweeten the draught63 with thy lips (here he passed the flask from his right hand to his left). An thou wilt force it on me so, I must needs do thy bidding, yet with the more pleasure do I so as I drink thy very great health (here he took a long, deep draught). And now, sweet lad, ’tis thy turn next (here he passed the bottle from his left hand back again to his right). I take it, sweet chuck, and here’s wishing thee as much good as thou wishest me.” Saying this, he took another draught, and truly he drank enough for two.
All this time merry Robin lay upon the bank and listened, while his stomach so quaked with laughter that he was forced to press his palm across his mouth to keep it from bursting forth; for, truly, he would not have spoiled such a goodly jest for the half of Nottinghamshire.
Having gotten his breath from his last draught, the Friar began talking again in this wise: “Now, sweet lad, canst thou not sing me a song? La, I know not, I am but in an ill voice this day; prythee ask me not; dost thou not hear how I croak64 like a frog? Nay, nay, thy voice is as sweet as any bullfinch; come, sing, I prythee, I would rather hear thee sing than eat a fair feast. Alas65, I would fain not sing before one that can pipe so well and hath heard so many goodly songs and ballads66, ne’ertheless, an thou wilt have it so, I will do my best. But now methinks that thou and I might sing some fair song together; dost thou not know a certain dainty little catch called ‘The Loving Youth and the Scornful Maid’? Why, truly, methinks I have heard it ere now. Then dost thou not think that thou couldst take the lass’s part if I take the lad’s? I know not but I will try; begin thou with the lad and I will follow with the lass.”
Then, singing first with a voice deep and gruff, and anon in one high and squeaking68, he blithely69 trolled the merry catch of
The Loving Youth and the Scornful Maid
He
“Ah, it’s wilt thou come with me, my love?
And it’s wilt thou, love, he mine?
For I will give unto thee, my love,
Gay knots and ribbons so fine.
I’ll woo thee, love, on my bended knee,
And I’ll pipe sweet songs to none but thee.
Then it’s hark! hark! hark!
To the winged lark70
And it’s hark to the cooing dove!
And the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill,
So come thou and be my love.
She
“Now get thee away, young man so fine;
Now get thee away, I say;
For my true love shall never be thine,
And so thou hadst better not stay.
Thou art not a fine enough lad for me,
So I’ll wait till a better young man I see.
For it’s hark! hark! hark!
To the winged lark,
And it’s hark to the cooing dove!
And the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill,
Yet never I’ll be thy love.
He
“Then straight will I seek for another fair she,
For many a maid can be found,
And as thou wilt never have aught of me,
By thee will I never be bound.
For never is a blossom in the field so rare,
But others are found that are just as fair.
So it’s hark! hark! hark!
To the joyous71 lark
And it’s hark to the cooing dove!
And the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill,
And I’ll seek me another dear love.
She
“Young man, turn not so very quick away
Another fair lass to find.
Methinks I have spoken in haste today,
Nor have I made up my mind,
And if thou only wilt stay with me,
I’ll love no other, sweet lad, but thee.”
Here Robin could contain himself no longer but burst forth into a mighty roar of laughter; then, the holy Friar keeping on with the song, he joined in the chorus, and together they sang, or, as one might say, bellowed72:
“So it’s hark! hark! hark!
To the joyous lark
And it’s hark to the cooing dove!
For the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill
And I’ll be thine own true love.”
So they sang together, for the stout Friar did not seem to have heard Robin’s laughter, neither did he seem to know that the yeoman had joined in with the song, but, with eyes half closed, looking straight before him and wagging his round head from side to side in time to the music, he kept on bravely to the end, he and Robin finishing up with a mighty roar that might have been heard a mile. But no sooner had the last word been sung than the holy man seized his steel cap, clapped it on his head, and springing to his feet, cried in a great voice, “What spy have we here? Come forth, thou limb of evil, and I will carve thee into as fine pudding meat as e’er a wife in Yorkshire cooked of a Sunday.” Hereupon he drew from beneath his robes a great broadsword full as stout as was Robin’s.
“Nay, put up thy pinking iron, friend,” quoth Robin, standing73 up with the tears of laughter still on his cheeks. “Folk who have sung so sweetly together should not fight thereafter.” Hereupon he leaped down the bank to where the other stood. “I tell thee, friend,” said he, “my throat is as parched74 with that song as e’er a barley stubble in October. Hast thou haply any Malmsey left in that stout pottle?”
“Truly,” said the Friar in a glum75 voice, “thou dost ask thyself freely where thou art not bidden. Yet I trust I am too good a Christian76 to refuse any man drink that is athirst. Such as there is o’t thou art welcome to a drink of the same.” And he held the pottle out to Robin.
Robin took it without more ado and putting it to his lips, tilted77 his head back, while that which was within said “glug! lug78! glug!” for more than three winks79, I wot. The stout Friar watched Robin anxiously the while, and when he was done took the pottle quickly. He shook it, held it betwixt his eyes and the light, looked reproachfully at the yeoman, and straightway placed it at his own lips. When it came away again there was nought80 within it.
“Doss thou know the country hereabouts, thou good and holy man?” asked Robin, laughing.
“Yea, somewhat,” answered the other dryly.
“And dost thou know of a certain spot called Fountain Abbey?”
“Yea, somewhat.”
“Then perchance thou knowest also of a certain one who goeth by the name of the Curtal Friar of Fountain Abbey.”
“Yea, somewhat.”
“Well then, good fellow, holy father, or whatever thou art,” quoth Robin, “I would know whether this same Friar is to be found upon this side of the river or the other.”
“That,” quoth the Friar, “is a practical question upon which the cunning rules appertaining to logic82 touch not. I do advise thee to find that out by the aid of thine own five senses; sight, feeling, and what not.”
“I do wish much,” quoth Robin, looking thoughtfully at the stout priest, “to cross yon ford and strive to find this same good Friar.”
“Truly,” said the other piously83, “it is a goodly wish on the part of one so young. Far be it from me to check thee in so holy a quest. Friend, the river is free to all.”
“Yea, good father,” said Robin, “but thou seest that my clothes are of the finest and I fain would not get them wet. Methinks thy shoulders are stout and broad; couldst thou not find it in thy heart to carry me across?”
“Now, by the white hand of the holy Lady of the Fountain!” burst forth the Friar in a mighty rage, “dost thou, thou poor puny84 stripling, thou kiss-my-lady-la poppenjay; thou — thou What shall I call thee? Dost thou ask me, the holy Tuck, to carry thee? Now I swear —” Here he paused suddenly, then slowly the anger passed from his face, and his little eyes twinkled once more. “But why should I not?” quoth he piously.
“Did not the holy Saint Christopher ever carry the stranger across the river? And should I, poor sinner that I am, be ashamed to do likewise? Come with me, stranger, and I will do thy bidding in an humble85 frame of mind.” So saying, he clambered up the bank, closely followed by Robin, and led the way to the shallow pebbly86 ford, chuckling87 to himself the while as though he were enjoying some goodly jest within himself.
Having come to the ford, he girded up his robes about his loins, tucked his good broadsword beneath his arm, and stooped his back to take Robin upon it. Suddenly he straightened up. “Methinks,” quoth he, “thou’lt get thy weapon wet. Let me tuck it beneath mine arm along with mine own.”
“Nay, good father,” said Robin, “I would not burden thee with aught of mine but myself.”
“Dost thou think,” said the Friar mildly, “that the good Saint Christopher would ha’ sought his own ease so? Nay, give me thy tool as I bid thee, for I would carry it as a penance88 to my pride.”
Upon this, without more ado, Robin Hood unbuckled his sword from his side and handed it to the other, who thrust it with his own beneath his arm. Then once more the Friar bent91 his back, and, Robin having mounted upon it, he stepped sturdily into the water and so strode onward, splashing in the shoal, and breaking all the smooth surface into ever- widening rings. At last he reached the other side and Robin leaped lightly from his back.
“Many thanks, good father,” quoth he. “Thou art indeed a good and holy man. Prythee give me my sword and let me away, for I am in haste.”
At this the stout Friar looked upon Robin for a long time, his head on one side, and with a most waggish92 twist to his face; then he slowly winked93 his right eye. “Nay, good youth,” said he gently, “I doubt not that thou art in haste with thine affairs, yet thou dost think nothing of mine. Thine are of a carnal nature; mine are of a spiritual nature, a holy work, so to speak; moreover, mine affairs do lie upon the other side of this stream. I see by thy quest of this same holy recluse94 that thou art a good young man and most reverent95 to the cloth. I did get wet coming hither, and am sadly afraid that should I wade the water again I might get certain cricks and pains i’ the joints96 that would mar8 my devotions for many a day to come. I know that since I have so humbly97 done thy bidding thou wilt carry me back again. Thou seest how Saint Godrick, that holy hermit26 whose natal98 day this is, hath placed in my hands two swords and in thine never a one. Therefore be persuaded, good youth, and carry me back again.”
Robin Hood looked up and he looked down, biting his nether99 lip. Quoth he, “Thou cunning Friar, thou hast me fair and fast enow. Let me tell thee that not one of thy cloth hath so hoodwinked me in all my life before. I might have known from thy looks that thou wert no such holy man as thou didst pretend to be.”
“Nay,” interrupted the Friar, “I bid thee speak not so scurrilously100 neither, lest thou mayst perchance feel the prick101 of an inch or so of blue steel.”
“Tut, tut,” said Robin, “speak not so, Friar; the loser hath ever the right to use his tongue as he doth list. Give me my sword; I do promise to carry thee back straightway. Nay, I will not lift the weapon against thee.”
“Marry, come up,” quoth the Friar, “I fear thee not, fellow. Here is thy skewer102; and get thyself presently ready, for I would hasten back.”
So Robin took his sword again and buckled89 it at his side; then he bent his stout back and took the Friar upon it.
Now I wot Robin Hood had a heavier load to carry in the Friar than the Friar had in him. Moreover he did not know the ford, so he went stumbling among the stones, now stepping into a deep hole, and now nearly tripping over a boulder103, while the sweat ran down his face in beads from the hardness of his journey and the heaviness of his load. Meantime, the Friar kept digging his heels into Robin’s sides and bidding him hasten, calling him many ill names the while. To all this Robin answered never a word, but, having softly felt around till he found the buckle90 of the belt that held the Friar’s sword, he worked slyly at the fastenings, seeking to loosen them. Thus it came about that, by the time he had reached the other bank with his load, the Friar’s sword belt was loose albeit he knew it not; so when Robin stood on dry land and the Friar leaped from his back, the yeoman gripped hold of the sword so that blade, sheath, and strap104 came away from the holy man, leaving him without a weapon.
“Now then,” quoth merry Robin, panting as he spake and wiping the sweat from his brow, “I have thee, fellow. This time that same saint of whom thou didst speak but now hath delivered two swords into my hand and hath stripped thine away from thee. Now if thou dost not carry me back, and that speedily, I swear I will prick thy skin till it is as full of holes as a slashed105 doublet.”
The good Friar said not a word for a while, but he looked at Robin with a grim look. “Now,” said he at last, “I did think that thy wits were of the heavy sort and knew not that thou wert so cunning. Truly, thou hast me upon the hip106. Give me my sword, and I promise not to draw it against thee save in self-defense; also, I promise to do thy bidding and take thee upon my back and carry thee.”
So jolly Robin gave him his sword again, which the Friar buckled to his side, and this time looked to it that it was more secure in its fastenings; then tucking up his robes once more, he took Robin Hood upon his back and without a word stepped into the water, and so waded107 on in silence while Robin sat laughing upon his back. At last he reached the middle of the ford where the water was deepest. Here he stopped for a moment, and then, with a sudden lift of his hand and heave of his shoulders, fairly shot Robin over his head as though he were a sack of grain.
Down went Robin into the water with a mighty splash. “There,” quoth the holy man, calmly turning back again to the shore, “let that cool thy hot spirit, if it may.”
Meantime, after much splashing, Robin had gotten to his feet and stood gazing about him all bewildered, the water running from him in pretty little rills. At last he shot the water out of his ears and spat108 some out of his mouth, and, gathering109 his scattered110 wits together, saw the stout Friar standing on the bank and laughing. Then, I wot, was Robin Hood a mad man. “Stay, thou villain111!” roared he, “I am after thee straight, and if I do not carve thy brawn46 for thee this day, may I never lift finger again!” So saying, he dashed, splashing, to the bank.
“Thou needst not hasten thyself unduly,” quoth the stout Friar. “Fear not; I will abide112 here, and if thou dost not cry ‘Alack-a-day’ ere long time is gone, may I never more peep through the brake at a fallow deer.”
And now Robin, having reached the bank, began, without more ado, to roll up his sleeves above his wrists. The Friar, also, tucked his robes more about him, showing a great, stout arm on which the muscles stood out like humps of an aged113 tree. Then Robin saw, what he had not wotted of before, that the Friar had also a coat of chain mail beneath his gown.
“Look to thyself,” cried Robin, drawing his good sword.
“Ay, marry,” quoth the Friar, who held his already in his hand. So, without more ado, they came together, and thereupon began a fierce and mighty battle. Right and left, and up and down and back and forth they fought. The swords flashed in the sun and then met with a clash that sounded far and near. I wot this was no playful bout81 at quarterstaff, but a grim and serious fight of real earnest. Thus they strove for an hour or more, pausing every now and then to rest, at which times each looked at the other with wonder, and thought that never had he seen so stout a fellow; then once again they would go at it more fiercely than ever. Yet in all this time neither had harmed the other nor caused his blood to flow. At last merry Robin cried, “Hold thy hand, good friend!” whereupon both lowered their swords.
“Now I crave114 a boon115 ere we begin again,” quoth Robin, wiping the sweat from his brow; for they had striven so long that he began to think that it would be an ill-done thing either to be smitten116 himself or to smite117 so stout and brave a fellow.
“What wouldst thou have of me?” asked the Friar.
“Only this,” quoth Robin; “that thou wilt let me blow thrice upon my bugle horn.”
The Friar bent his brows and looked shrewdly at Robin Hood. “Now I do verily think that thou hast some cunning trick in this,” quoth he. “Ne’ertheless, I fear thee not, and will let thee have thy wish, providing thou wilt also let me blow thrice upon this little whistle.”
“With all my heart,” quoth Robin, “so, here goes for one.” So saying, he raised his silver horn to his lips and blew thrice upon it, clear and high.
Meantime, the Friar stood watching keenly for what might come to pass, holding in his fingers the while a pretty silver whistle, such as knights118 use for calling their hawks119 back to their wrists, which whistle always hung at his girdle along with his rosary.
Scarcely had the echo of the last note of Robin’s bugle come winding121 back from across the river, when four tall men in Lincoln green came running around the bend of the road, each with a bow in his hand and an arrow ready nocked upon the string.
“Ha! Is it thus, thou traitor122 knave123!” cried the Friar. “Then, marry, look to thyself!” So saying, he straightway clapped the hawk120’s whistle to his lips and blew a blast that was both loud and shrill124. And now there came a crackling of the bushes that lined the other side of the road, and presently forth from the covert125 burst four great, shaggy hounds. “At ’em, Sweet Lips! At ’em, Bell Throat! At ’em, Beauty! At ’em, Fangs126!” cried the Friar, pointing at Robin.
And now it was well for that yeoman that a tree stood nigh him beside the road, else had he had an ill chance of it. Ere one could say “Gaffer Downthedale” the hounds were upon him, and he had only time to drop his sword and leap lightly into the tree, around which the hounds gathered, looking up at him as though he were a cat on the eaves. But the Friar quickly called off his dogs. “At ’em!” cried he, pointing down the road to where the yeomen were standing stock still with wonder of what they saw. As the hawk darts127 down upon its quarry128, so sped the four dogs at the yeomen; but when the four men saw the hounds so coming, all with one accord, saving only Will Scarlet, drew each man his goose feather to his ear and let fly his shaft129.
And now the old ballad67 telleth of a wondrous35 thing that happened, for thus it says, that each dog so shot at leaped lightly aside, and as the arrow passed him whistling, caught it in his mouth and bit it in twain. Now it would have been an ill day for these four good fellows had not Will Scarlet stepped before the others and met the hounds as they came rushing. “Why, how now, Fangs!” cried he sternly. “Down, Beauty! Down, sirrah! What means this?”
At the sound of his voice each dog shrank back quickly and then straightway came to him and licked his hands and fawned130 upon him, as is the wont131 of dogs that meet one they know. Then the four yeomen came forward, the hounds leaping around Will Scarlet joyously132. “Why, how now!” cried the stout Friar, “what means this? Art thou wizard to turn those wolves into lambs? Ha!” cried he, when they had come still nearer, “can I trust mine eyes? What means it that I see young Master William Gamwell in such company?”
“Nay, Tuck,” said the young man, as the four came forward to where Robin was now clambering down from the tree in which he had been roosting, he having seen that all danger was over for the time; “nay, Tuck, my name is no longer Will Gamwell, but Will Scarlet; and this is my good uncle, Robin Hood, with whom I am abiding133 just now.”
“Truly, good master,” said the Friar, looking somewhat abashed134 and reaching out his great palm to Robin, “I ha’ oft heard thy name both sung and spoken of, but I never thought to meet thee in battle. I crave thy forgiveness, and do wonder not that I found so stout a man against me.”
“Truly, most holy father,” said Little John, “I am more thankful than e’er I was in all my life before that our good friend Scarlet knew thee and thy dogs. I tell thee seriously that I felt my heart crumble135 away from me when I saw my shaft so miss its aim, and those great beasts of thine coming straight at me.”
“Thou mayst indeed be thankful, friend,” said the Friar gravely. “But, Master Will, how cometh it that thou dost now abide in Sherwood?”
“Why, Tuck, dost thou not know of my ill happening with my father’s steward136?” answered Scarlet.
“Yea, truly, yet I knew not that thou wert in hiding because of it. Marry, the times are all awry137 when a gentleman must lie hidden for so small a thing.”
“But we are losing time,” quoth Robin, “and I have yet to find that same Curtal Friar.”
“Why, uncle, thou hast not far to go,” said Will Scarlet, pointing to the Friar, “for there he stands beside thee.”
“How?” quoth Robin, “art thou the man that I have been at such pains to seek all day, and have got such a ducking for?”
“Why, truly,” said the Friar demurely138, “some do call me the Curtal Friar of Fountain Dale; others again call me in jest the Abbot of Fountain Abbey; others still again call me simple Friar Tuck.”
“I like the last name best,” quoth Robin, “for it doth slip more glibly139 off the tongue. But why didst thou not tell me thou wert he I sought, instead of sending me searching for black moonbeams?”
“Why, truly, thou didst not ask me, good master,” quoth stout Tuck; “but what didst thou desire of me?”
“Nay,” quoth Robin, “the day groweth late, and we cannot stand longer talking here. Come back with us to Sherwood, and I will unfold all to thee as we travel along.”
So, without tarrying longer, they all departed, with the stout dogs at their heels, and wended their way back to Sherwood again; but it was long past nightfall ere they reached the greenwood tree.
Now listen, for next I will tell how Robin Hood compassed the happiness of two young lovers, aided by the merry Friar Tuck of Fountain Dale.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
2
robin
|
|
| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
scarlet
|
|
| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
bland
|
|
| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
bide
|
|
| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
hood
|
|
| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
plume
|
|
| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
mar
|
|
| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
gallant
|
|
| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
brawling
|
|
| n.争吵，喧嚷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
rustling
|
|
| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
canopy
|
|
| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
herd
|
|
| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
rattle
|
|
| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
onward
|
|
| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
labored
|
|
| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
tugged
|
|
| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
barges
|
|
| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
laden
|
|
| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
barley
|
|
| n.大麦，大麦粒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
placid
|
|
| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
ruffled
|
|
| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
Ford
|
|
| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
hermit
|
|
| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
tangle
|
|
| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
thickets
|
|
| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
thither
|
|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
albeit
|
|
| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
nay
|
|
| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
wade
|
|
| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
bugle
|
|
| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
wondrously
|
|
| adv.惊奇地，非常，极其 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
wondrous
|
|
| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
verge
|
|
| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
mightily
|
|
| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
vow
|
|
| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
foliage
|
|
| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
nostrils
|
|
| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
verges
|
|
| 边，边缘，界线( verge的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
rugged
|
|
| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
willow
|
|
| n.柳树 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
brawny
|
|
| adj.强壮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
brawn
|
|
| n.体力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
beads
|
|
| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
crab
|
|
| n.螃蟹，偏航，脾气乖戾的人，酸苹果；vi.捕蟹，偏航，发牢骚；vt.使偏航，发脾气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
drollery
|
|
| n.开玩笑，说笑话；滑稽可笑的图画（或故事、小戏等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
tickled
|
|
| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
divers
|
|
| adj.不同的；种种的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
savory
|
|
| adj.风味极佳的，可口的，味香的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
gravy
|
|
| n.肉汁；轻易得来的钱，外快 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
munched
|
|
| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
placidly
|
|
| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
greasy
|
|
| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
flask
|
|
| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
wilt
|
|
| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
beseech
|
|
| v.祈求，恳求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
draught
|
|
| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
croak
|
|
| vi.嘎嘎叫，发牢骚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
alas
|
|
| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
ballads
|
|
| 民歌，民谣，特别指叙述故事的歌( ballad的名词复数 )； 讴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
ballad
|
|
| n.歌谣，民谣，流行爱情歌曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
squeaking
|
|
| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的现在分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
blithely
|
|
| adv.欢乐地，快活地，无挂虑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
lark
|
|
| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
joyous
|
|
| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
bellowed
|
|
| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
parched
|
|
| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
glum
|
|
| adj.闷闷不乐的，阴郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
tilted
|
|
| v. 倾斜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
lug
|
|
| n.柄，突出部，螺帽；(英）耳朵；（俚）笨蛋；vt.拖，拉，用力拖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
winks
|
|
| v.使眼色( wink的第三人称单数 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
nought
|
|
| n.／adj.无，零 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
bout
|
|
| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
logic
|
|
| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
piously
|
|
| adv.虔诚地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
puny
|
|
| adj.微不足道的，弱小的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
pebbly
|
|
| 多卵石的，有卵石花纹的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
chuckling
|
|
| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
penance
|
|
| n.（赎罪的）惩罪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
buckled
|
|
| a. 有带扣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
buckle
|
|
| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
waggish
|
|
| adj.诙谐的，滑稽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
winked
|
|
| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
recluse
|
|
| n.隐居者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
reverent
|
|
| adj.恭敬的，虔诚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
joints
|
|
| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
humbly
|
|
| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
natal
|
|
| adj.出生的，先天的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
nether
|
|
| adj.下部的，下面的；n.阴间；下层社会 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
scurrilously
|
|
| adv.粗俗地；下流地，粗野无礼地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
prick
|
|
| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
skewer
|
|
| n.（烤肉用的）串肉杆；v.用杆串好 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
boulder
|
|
| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
strap
|
|
| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
slashed
|
|
| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
hip
|
|
| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
waded
|
|
| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
spat
|
|
| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
villain
|
|
| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
abide
|
|
| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
aged
|
|
| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
crave
|
|
| vt.渴望得到，迫切需要，恳求，请求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
boon
|
|
| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
smitten
|
|
| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
smite
|
|
| v.重击；彻底击败；n.打；尝试；一点儿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
knights
|
|
| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
hawks
|
|
| 鹰( hawk的名词复数 )； 鹰派人物，主战派人物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
hawk
|
|
| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
winding
|
|
| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
traitor
|
|
| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
knave
|
|
| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
shrill
|
|
| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
covert
|
|
| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
fangs
|
|
| n.（尤指狗和狼的）长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 )；（蛇的）毒牙；罐座 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
darts
|
|
| n.掷飞镖游戏；飞镖( dart的名词复数 )；急驰，飞奔v.投掷，投射( dart的第三人称单数 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
quarry
|
|
| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
shaft
|
|
| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
fawned
|
|
| v.（尤指狗等）跳过来往人身上蹭以示亲热( fawn的过去式和过去分词 )；巴结；讨好 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
wont
|
|
| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
joyously
|
|
| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
abiding
|
|
| adj.永久的，持久的，不变的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
abashed
|
|
| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
crumble
|
|
| vi.碎裂，崩溃；vt.弄碎，摧毁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
steward
|
|
| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
awry
|
|
| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
demurely
|
|
| adv.装成端庄地，认真地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
glibly
|
|
| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |