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the bandage away with her, looked the door as before, and there left him to expire.
Morning broke; and as the sun's rays broke upon his heavy eye-lids, he experienced the most dreadful sensation of sickness—he lay quiet—yet bleeding, and not knowing that his life was fast ebbing away. At length he discovered the horrible truth; he feebly gained the lattice, but unable to raise himself, so as to pass through it, he with his remaining breath, blew his horn. The well known sound was heard by Little John, who was near the abbey walls; suspecting wrong, he called together a strong party, and rushing to the gates, demanded admittance. This was denied, so the gates were broken open. He again heard the tremulous notes of the horn, followed the sound, and soon found poor Robin Hood in a dying state, from loss of blood.
Little John was greatly exasperated, and vowed to rase the treacherous building to the ground: "Not one stone," said he, stamping his foot violently on the ground, "not one little stone shall stand upon another."
"I prithee, no!" said Robin to Little John. "the last act of my life shall not change in spirit to what the first was—let the woman's conscience be her punishment—I will not harm her. But," said Robin, with a fainting voice, "give me my how, and but one arrow—it will be my last shaft—and where it rests in the greensward, there would I rest also!"
"Raise me," said Robin Hood, in a plaintive voice; he drew his bow with a convulsive exertion, and the arrow flew over the tree toss to a considerable distance. Little John watched the arrow in its flight; and turning, received the last words of Robin Hood. "It is my last shot! the last time I ever draw bow-string! Farewell, my bonny yew bow, and trusty broad arrow; bear me to the spot where it fell." So died the renowned Robin Hood.
He expired the 24th of December, 1347, aged 55, and was interred in Kirkley Park, Yorkshire.
EPITAPH.
Robert, Earl of Huntingdon,
Lies here, his labour being done.
No archer like him was so good,
His wildness named him Robin Hood.
For thirteen years and somewhat more,
These northern parts he vexed sore:
Such outlaws as he and his men,
May England never know again.
