XXII.

Now, in the Castle-park, drew out Their checkered bands the joyous rout. There morricers, with bell at heel And blade in hand, their mazes wheel; But chief, beside the butts, there stand Bold Robin Hood and all his band,-- Friar Tuck with quarterstaff and cowl, Old Scathelocke with his surly scowl, Maid Marian, fair as ivory bone, Scarlet, and Mutch, and Little John; Their bugles challenge all that will, In archery to prove their skill. The Douglas bent a bow of might,-- His first shaft centred in the white, And when in turn he shot again, His second split the first in twain. From the King's hand must Douglas take A silver dart, the archers' stake; Fondly he watched, with watery eye, Some answering glance of sympathy,-- No kind emotion made reply! Indifferent as to archer wight, The monarch gave the arrow bright.