The Adventures of Robin Hood

News has come from Vienna!

"Leopold of Austria has seized King

Richard on his return from the Crusades.

Our king is being held prisoner.

Nothing further is known.

His Highness Prince John will make...

...further public

pronouncement tomorrow".

And how are the dear Saxons

taking the news, Sir Guy?

They're even more worried than

Longchamps, Your Highness.

They'll be more than worried...

...when I squeeze the fat

out of their hides.

- You intend to act on your plans?

- What better moment than this, Sir Guy?

Whoever would have thought

my dear brother...

...would be so

considerate as to get captured...

...and leave all of England

to my tender care?

He may disapprove when he returns,

Your Highness.

If he returns.

And I'll see to it that he doesn't.

We must drink to this moment, Sir Guy.

Golden days are ahead.

I'll assign tax districts to you tomorrow.

Tomorrow, Your Highness.

- But who's gonna pay me?

- Pay! Pay!

That's all you Saxons think about.

Didn't I tell you it was for Prince John,

who's just come up from London?

Stop! Stop!

This man is freeborn!

He's a landowner.

You can't make a slave of him!

Didn't he refuse to send his men

to work in Guy of Gisbourne's field?

But I protest...!

Dickon, follow me!

The rest remain here.

- What's your name, you Saxon dog?

- A better one than yours.

Look to your manners!

This is Sir Guy of Gisbourne.

Sir Guy or the devil!

There's little to choose between them.

- What's your name?

- Much, the miller's son.

- It's death to kill the king's deer?

- And death from hunger if I don't.

Thanks to you and the rest of you

Norman cutthroats at Nottingham Castle.

- Be quiet, you.

- I won't be quiet!

You can kill me if you like,

but not until I've had my say.

You can beat and starve

us Saxons now...

...but when King Richard escapes, he'll

take you by the scruff of the neck...

...and fling you into the sea!

- What the devil?

- Come now, Sir Guy.

- You'd kill a man for telling the truth?

- If it amused me, yes.

Be thankful

my humor's of a different sort.

By what right do you

interfere with justice?

By a better right

than you have to misuse it.

That goes for your master, Prince John.

I'll give him that message at the

baron's meeting in Nottingham tonight.

Thank you.

He does need a bit of a talking to.

- Eh, Will?

- He has been getting rather out of hand.

- Fetch him.

- Hold there. What's his fault?

- He's killed a royal deer.

- You're wrong. I killed that deer.

This man's my servant.

Oh. I suppose you realize the penalty

for killing the king's deer is death.

- Whether for serf or noble.

- Really?

Are there no exceptions?

- Thanks, master.

- Better look before you shoot next time.

From this day, I follow only you. There

isn't a poor Saxon in Nottingham shire...

...that doesn't know and bless

Sir Robin of Locksley.

Take me as your servant.

Why, in all the forest,

there isn't a hunter as good as me.

I ask no pay.

Just to follow you.

Fetch the deer, then.

While Richard is bent on adventure

in foreign lands...

...it is our duty as Normans

to preserve the realm...

...by giving loyal support

to Prince John...

...the only true defender

of the Norman spirit.

Hail to Prince John.

My lords, I thank you.

Well, this is what we Normans like:

Good food, good company...

...and a beautiful woman

to flatter me, eh, Lady Marian?

Was it worthwhile coming with me

from London...

...to see what stout fellows

our Nottingham friends are?

Take Sir Guy of Gisbourne. One of our

most renowned defenders of the realm.

Must I take him, Your Highness?

Why, you like him, don't you?

- Well, he's a Norman, of course.

- Is that the only reason for liking him?

Isn't that reason enough for a royal ward

who must obey her guardian?

Oh, nay, I'd not force you, my lady.

But he's our most powerful friend in

these shires and he's in love with you.

If I could promise him marriage

to a royal ward, it might help my plans.

- Perhaps when I know him better.

- Of course.

You're a very wise young woman.

Any more objections to the new tax

from our Saxon friends?

Objections, Your Highness?

With a Saxon dangling from every...

...gallows tree

between here and Charnwood?

Well said, sir knight.

But not too many, mind.

Else we'll have nobody left

to till our land or pay the tax.

There's one exception I'd make,

Your Highness.

- A certain Saxon noble.

- Who is that?

- Sir Robin of Locksley.

- Sir Rob... Sir Robin of Locksley?

I've heard precious little else since I've

been here. What's his latest outrage?

Oh, nothing less than killing a royal deer

in Sherwood Forest today.

And you didn't take him?

That would have been a problem,

Your Highness.

- A Saxon a problem?

- He's a notorious troublemaker, my lady.

Aye.

An impudent, reckless rogue...

...who goes around the shire

stirring up the Saxons against authority.

And he has the insolence to set himself

up as a protector of the people.

I could have captured him

long ago, but...

But what?

Well, he's the deadliest archer

in England, and...

And my brave High Sheriff

of Nottingham is afraid of him.

I want him taken and hanged. At once,

do you hear? I'll not tolerate...

Open the door!

Who is this, this...?

- Sir Robin of Locksley, Your Highness.

- Ah!

Let him approach.

Greetings, Your Highness.

You should teach Gisbourne hospitality.

I no sooner enter his castle doors

with a piece of meat...

...than his starving servants

try to snatch it from me.

You should feed them, Gisbourne.

They'll work better.

With the compliments of your royal

brother, King Richard, God bless him!

By my faith, but you're a bold rascal.

Robin, I like you.

I'm gratified, Your Highness.

I don't think Gisbourne shares

that sentiment, however.

He does look sour.

What's the matter, Gisbourne?

Run out of hangings?

- I know a ripe subject for one.

- If you'll excuse me...

Sit down! Sit down, my dear.

He'll not harm you.

Sir Robin, this is

the Lady Marian Fitzwalter.

I hope my lady had a pleasant journey

from London?

What you hope can hardly be important.

What a pity her manners

don't match her looks, Your Highness.

You hear that, gentlemen?

Here's Gisbourne so in love with Marian

he daren't say "boo" to her...

...and this saucy fellow

gives her better than she sends.

My lords and ladies, I would like to

present to you Sir Robin of Locksley.

Sir Robin, permit me to present to you

your host, Sir Guy of Gisbourne...

...and our noble guests.

- I'm deeply honored, Your Highness.

- Have you had meat?

- None but what I brought.

Well, sit down.

Sit down there opposite me.

- Get up, Sir Ivor. Give him your place.

- Your Highness!

Get up!

Get up, sir knight!

Come, Sir Ivor. Out with you.

Bring Sir Robin food at once,

do you hear?

Such impudence must support

a mighty appetite.

True enough, Your Highness.

We Saxons have little to fatten on by

the time your tax gatherers are through.

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