Robin Hood Page #3

---

He looks quite happy to me.

Good morning, Marian.

- Well, I'll be off. My bow needs...

- Grummeting.

Grummeting. Exactly.

- Well, then, how are the wedding plans?

- In hand, thank you.

So, what are you going

to do with me? Tie me up?

- Could be a lashing.

- How many strokes?

- As many as are necessary.

- And then it's finished?

That depends.

Have you ever been lashed before?

I've never had someone

make me beg them to stop.

Then you've never

had a proper lashing.

You're free to go, or stay if you feel

you have something to offer.

What could I offer

the man who has everything?

- Don't play with me.

- You're so handsome when you're angry.

Go and stitch

your hero's neck together.

Give me 50 of your men...

...and I'll scour the forest

till it's clean of this vermin.

Fifty enough for one fox?

I nearly had him today,

all on my own.

He would've been

begging for mercy.

- But the thugs were all around me.

- Is that how it was?

I would have.

It was all I could do to...

All you could do

to find your sword?

My dearest. My hero.

I won't send 50 men into the forest

to be ambushed and killed...

...but we will catch him.

It occurs to me

that these outlaws...

...are a threat to

the peace of Barnsdale...

...to the forests of Doncaster,

Blyth and Sherwood.

We have to raise

more taxes because of him.

That will make him

really popular.

I will post a reward

for information...

...a huge reward...

for his head on a plate.

They'll talk.

And if not...

we'll hang a few.

Good. Very good.

Nothing like an abbot on his ass

to make one's day.

That's my lunch!

I'd say you've eaten all your

brothers and sisters for breakfast.

You'll need another

hen run for lunch.

It's how I earn a living.

I eat chickens to produce the bones,

I make the bones into holy relics. Look.

St. Peter's pinkie.

Only three marks.

Our Lady's big toe.

Ten marks,

and it's yours.

And with the money, I have to buy

more chickens to make more bones.

I hate chickens.

Relax, holy man.

Good for the digestion.

Put me on my feet,

and I'll beat you fair and square.

I'll not deny a man a fight.

Shall I bless you now,

or when you're dead?

Go on!

Bloody hell!

So you be

Robin Hood, then?

- Very nicely done.

- Thank you.

- And now for your cash, and make no bones about it.

- Cash?

I'm sorry to disappoint you.

Since when do you friars

carry no money?

- You bloodsuckers are never short.

- Not me, friend.

Abbot's thrown me out

just for killing his nephew.

That's why I'm out

selling saints' fingers.

Anyone care for St. Vitus's ankle bone...

the one he danced on?

But since you can

swing a sword like that...

...you can join with us.

- And have a price on my head too?

- What's that?

There's a reward out for Mr. Hood.

They want your head in a noose.

Miter's testing a rope right now

on the charcoal burner's children...

...to make the parents talk.

Perhaps this will loosen

some tongues.

Thank you.

I repeat, anyone

with any information...

...leading to the capture

of this Robin Hood...

will receive

a handsome reward.

They may also see

their children grow old.

Move it! Move it!

Hey, you two!

Look who's here.

- Hey!

- Mama, I'm here.

- What is it, Will?

- Daguerre's outfoxed us.

He doesn't need

to hunt us down.

He's turning our own people

against us with bribes and threats.

Somebody will crack soon,

and he knows it.

- Then we'll have to be foxier still, right?

- Right.

Then we'll ride into Nottingham

at the end of the month.

Nottingham?

Hear me.

I ride into Nottingham

next Tuesday.

- Now, who's with me?

- Nottingham?

- You're mad!

- Fine, Harry.

You're out.

Now, who's in?

Sam.

Just the man we need.

Now, can you make boxes?

Can I make boxes?

Is Friar Tuck hungry?

- Ouch!

- Not too tight.

- She's to be married, not tortured.

- What's the difference?

Ah. The torturer himself.

All he's missing is the little black hood

with slits for eyes.

My dear,

you look stunning.

Everything going to be

ready for the 7th?

Out of the question.

This hideous rag fits what it touches.

Doesn't suit me.

Color makes me look like a witch.

It scratches.

In short, Uncle, it won't do.

Oh.

How difficult of it.

- I think you look magnificent in it.

- You would.

That proves I'm right,

Uncle.

If Dancing Bear thinks it's lovely,

it must be terrible.

He has no taste.

But I think you would

look magnificent in anything.

There you are.

No discrimination either.

Magnificent in anything?

Even better in nothing at all, I suppose.

He's a lecher.

A crude, tasteless lecher.

Marian, you can't go on

with this.

- Exactly.

- You know what I mean.

Uncle, I will not wear

this dress in public.

We will have

to start all over again.

But we would have

to postpone the wedding.

How dreadful.

Peregrine, come again

in the morning, please.

Please help me

talk to her later when this is all over.

Perhaps we could talk.

- Say what you have to say.

- Alone.

- Here and now.

- I am not used to begging.

- I don't have the skills.

- No.

- You're used to getting your own way.

- But I am begging.

It would make me

so happy.

Yes, your happiness

comes first and last!

And I would conquer the world

to make you happy.

Fight the Turk...

...do battle with

a thousand infidel...

...to bring a smile

to your eyes.

Conquer your own lechery,

Miles...

...fight your own stupid greed...

...and do battle with anybody

as far away as possible!

I don't want you.

Leave me alone, Uncle.

You will marry him...

...on the 7 th.

Nicole.

Come on. Bring the box.

Can't be that heavy. It's not full yet.

Right. Who's next?

We've done the butcher, the dyer...

- In here.

Let the fever leave him, lord.

Slay the demons

that are in his blood.

- Where's your husband?

- Please spare him.

- Spare me.

- He's been burning sick for three weeks.

There are demons

in his blood.

Let me guess.

You can't pay your taxes.

Don't arrest us,

Sheriff.

Take me.

Do what you will.

Use my body if you wish.

- Christ, not again.

- Again?

Oh, yes. Again, please.

John!

- This way!

- No, this way.

The taxes! The taxes!

They've got the taxes!

Get the tax... Get the box!

- The box!

- Where? Where?

Stop them!

Stay where you are!

The box!

The box!

Huh?

- What are you looking at?

- Knock them off their horses!

Sam Timmons.

No finer man for the boxes.

- No finer man.

- Who needs two arms, eh?

I'll beat them with one arm

tied behind me back.

I'll never eat

chicken again.

From now on,

it'll be peacock oozing with gravy.

No, swan.

Swan's breast in Madeira.

We've all died

and gone to heaven.

Speaking from experience,

you wouldn't get in.

So, this what keeps Baron Daguerre...

...so kind and so cheerful?

Hundred and one.

Hundred and...

I don't like it, Rob.

It doesn't feel right.

Well, it isn't right.

This isn't just loot stolen from rich men.

This is taxes.

Poor men's taxes.

It's broken the backs of farmers,

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes