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 scurrilously neither, lest thou mayst perchance feel the prick 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 skewer; and get thyself presently ready, for I would hasten back." So Robin took his sword again and buckled 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 boulder, 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.