Poacher!
Stop the poacher!
There he goes!
Catch the poacher!
Ten marks for the man who catches the beast.
After him! Get him!
Get him!
- It's Much the miller, come flying out of the forest. - What's the hurry?
Sir Robert, save me. Save me.
Straight ahead!
Come on! We got him! Come on!
Go on! Go on!
Whoa. Whoa. Whoa, there.
Steady. Steady. Steady.
What have we here, Mr. Miter?
Much here is the local miller, but he's been grinding more than corn for his living.
That's the poacher, Sir Miles.
Ah. Not so new at the poaching game either.
Do you know the punishment for poaching the king's deer twice?
- They can put my eyes out. - Do something.
- Leave him. - Who do you think you are?
- This man is a poacher. - On my land.
I have no objection to this man hunting on my land.
He's a useful member of our community.
Who exactly are you?
I am Sir Miles Folcanet...
and I'm the guest of the Baron Daguerre to whom this land belongs...
and certainly not to some scruffy Saxon.
You and your people may have stolen every decent acre of my country...
and built your mighty castles on them...
but I am still Sir Robert Hode.
I am still the Earl of Huntingdon...
and this land you are on still belongs to me.
Only as a vassal to your feudal overlord...
and my host, the Baron Daguerre.
But you're Sir Robert Hode, of course.
I hear you're Baron Daguerre's friend.
What was the phrase, "his little pet"?
I order you to leave this man be...
and to get off my land.
Well, well.
Leave him be.
Yes, of course. We could do as you suggest...
but the poacher would still have his eyes to help him poach again, would he not?
And you, kind lady?
Is it your pleasure that the miller should lose his eyes?
My pleasures are my secret, Sir Robert.
I do not reveal them to just any knight who crosses my path.
Enough. There's a law. Miter!
Let him go.
Why don't you and your men hunt down some little children...
that have been sniffing the king's flowers?
You can pluck their noses off one by one.
And you, you can watch.
Much, walk away.
Very well. I shall let him go.
Thank you, Sir Robert, for your lesson in Saxon justice.
On Monday morning at 7:00...
you will stand before Baron Daguerre...
and I'll make sure you'll taste our Norman justice.
You have insulted his guest.
He will not treat you lightly.
Maybe you shouldn't have said anything.
That's what he called you?
- My pet? - The Baron Daguerre's little pet.
What's so funny?
I thought all you cared about was the next wench and the next drink.
And you defied Miles for a half-dead Saxon poacher.
I'd love to have seen his face.
I think I spoiled his fun.
He was lusting to put the poor man's eyes out personally on the spot.
Norman justice, he called it.
I have to order you to be flogged next Monday morning.
You can't do that. I am an earl.
Climb down from your high horse, Robert.
- I'll try to avoid it. - Try?
Folcanet wants his entertainment.
- You made him look a fool. - You will never have me flogged.
Need I remind you that while your grandfather's father was no more than a pirate...
my great-grandfather was chancellor to our king?
Did I tell you that?
It's true. A pirate.
But that was in confidence, Robert.
You will never say that in public.
Never. Your throw.
I, too, have my pride.
Hello, Marian.
- Who's winning, Uncle? - Robert, of course.
Have you met?
I believe Sir Robert never loses...
so he tells me.
- Uncle? - She's my brother's daughter.
He died in Cyprus. I've become her guardian.
Will she be living here?
She's here for a wedding.
- Whose wedding? - Hers... and Miles's.
Folcanet?
She's heir to a great fortune, Robert.
It becomes her dowry.
If she marries Miles, he's offered to show his gratitude to me.
Money, money, money, money, money, money.
Just who are they practicing to kill, Rob?
Who do they see when they thrust the lance?
It's me and you, Rob, that's who. You and me.
Well, on this occasion, it's more me than you.
Next time you feel righteous indignation, you do the heroic bit.
You'll have no trouble of Daguerre. No trouble at all.
Something interesting outside?
Go on. Take a proper look.
But don't let him see you looking.
Sir Robert Hode, Earl of Huntingdon.
The charges?
Insulting a knight of the Realm and obstructing the king's laws.
Obstructing the king's laws.
Sir Robert, please.
Baron Daguerre...
I ask the court's forgiveness for any offense I have brought...
to the throne or to Sir Miles Folcanet...
and I apologize with all sincerity and humility.
Very well.
The court is a witness to your humility and accepts your apology...
as I'm sure Sir Miles will.
You may rise, Sir Robert.
A moment, please.
If I may remind the first baron of the Realm...
Norman law calls for separate justice...
for separate issues, Sir Roger.
There were two offenses.
As for Sir Robert's insulting me, certainly I'm a forgiving man.
I have forgiven. But, uh...
eager as I am to be done with this unfortunate incident...
I'm bound to point out the letter of the law...
which states separate justice...
for separate issues.
This man attempted to stop agents of the king...
from carrying out their sworn duty!
- That's a dreadful offense. - Concentrate.
And what punishment does the law demand?
The punishment is a public beating.
To be flogged.
I suggest at the castle gate at noon.
My lord, I am not to be treated like a common thief.
You may be a Saxon earl, Hode, but the Saxons no longer rule England.
I demand the right of trial by combat.
I challenge Sir Miles Folcanet.
- I'll kill him. - Silence!
Sir Miles, Robert Hode shall be flogged...
but one lash only.
That's my judgment.
You treacherous, lying, cheating...
- That's enough, Hode! Silence! - That's not nearly enough!
- This man should be hanged! - Five lashes, and I shall have the honor.
- What would you know about honor? - Twenty lashes from the Sergeant-at-Arms!
- Why not 50? A hundred? - No, 20! You're too wild, Sir Robert.
Wild? Much worse than that.
I'm a fool. I thought you were noble.
Behold the glorious Normans.
The noble baron of the Realm...
whose great-grandfather was no more than a pirate.
From cutthroat tojudge in the blink of an eye.
Once they raped and pillaged.
Now they collect taxes.
Norman taxes on Saxon land.
Norman taxes on Saxon grain.
Norman taxes on Saxon liberty.
Let us bow to the miracle of change.
From pirate to leech in the blink of a bloody Norman eye!
Release him!
Robert Hode, fourth earl of Huntingdon...
with the powers of the king which are vested in me...
it's decreed that you forfeit to the throne...
your lands and title and all things in your possession.
As of this day, you are cast outside the law.
And as an outlaw, you're beyond the reach of its protection.
Any and all who would give you shelter or comfort...
will be deemed treasonous.
Because you are of noble birth...
these consequences will be reviewed by the king's justiciar.
Until that time, you shall be shackled...
in the keep of the Daguerre Castle.
Have you anything more to say?
Very well, then.
Hold it there! Keep 'em back!
Stop it. Stop!
Tell them to move away... now.
Do as he says. Move back!
Seize them!
- Seize them! - You should have killed him.
- You should have kept your mouth shut. - Yesterday I was a hero.
- Make your mind up. - Out of the way!
Keep going!
Up there!
On the battlements!
I want them alive! I want them alive.
- Don't shoot! - Now, kick.
Kick! Kick!
Scaffold! Scaffold!
Raise the bridge! Raise the bridge!
Raise it!
- They're crossing, you fools! - Raise the bridge!
Raise the bridge!
Hold on!
After them! After them!
Lower the bridge! Lower the bridge!
Let me guess. The horses have gone home?
Yes, the horses have gone home.
Congratulations.
Thank you.
I'm starved.
Me too.
It's raining.
If only I hadn't encouraged you to stand up for the miller.
If only I hadn't have listened.
Bloody Normans.
Summer is y-comen in
Loude sing, cuckoo
And the seeds are growing warm
Loude sing, cuckoo
How are you at walking backwards?
Well, I've never had to try yet, short ass.
Short ass, is it?
Careful. He doesn't like being called names.
And what do you do, ferret face?
I just follow him around and bury all the people who've called him names.
Ferret face seems to think you're a bit of a hard man, short ass.
Rob.
- What's this? - Show him. Give me the sword.
Barnsdale rules. You're in Yorkshire now.
- Come on. Come on. - Hey!
Lying in the dark, the queen asked the king...
"Why, darling husband, do you always have such a tiny, little thing?"
Ugly, aren't you, pig face?
Yes! Hard-headed too!
- Help! - He can't swim!
Help! Help! Will!
Help! Help!
- Help! - Rob, here!
Rob!
Help! Help!
Help!
Help! Help!
Help!
Out you come, shorty.
In you come, lofty!
- John Little. - Rob...
Robin Hood.
This is Will.
Will Scarlett.
So, what makes you two take to the byways? You're not beggars.
Let's just say we disagreed with our Norman masters.
- I hope you killed a few. - Yeah, we're outlawed, on the run.
You hungry? Cold, wet, nowhere to go?
The question is, are you trustworthy?
There are none more trustworthy in England, John Little.
Yeah, well, you better be. Anyway, I like you.
Even him. Come on.
Food.
You've heard of Stepthrough, right?
Now, don't forget. You're friends of mine from Pontefract...
and you're thieves.
Broth smells good.
Sam. Robin and Will.
Sam's a carpenter. Miter tried to chisel him.
Tried to screw more taxes out of him.
I wouldn't pay up. They screwed my sawing arm right out of its socket.
- You're welcome, whoever you are. - Thank you.
When it's ready, Will.
We're forced to live like bats in caves.
Much!
New friends. This is Robin Hood...
and Will Scarlett.
If you say so.
- Hello, Robin. - You've got a twinkle in your eye.
Better than the sharp end of a dagger, my friend.
You're most welcome, Robin. And Will... What was it? Scarlett?
Yes, Scarlett.
Jack and Charlie...
this man's Robin Hood, so he says.
Jack and Charlie, the Runnel boys.
Bad boys.
I need some ale.
Which one of you thieves has stolen my ale?
How did you come to be here, John?
I fell in love with a Norman's daughter, and she with me.
And we ran away together.
He burned down my house while my mother and my father...
and my two brothers slept in it.
She was caught and tortured...
and I took to the forests of England.
Just wandering. I've settled down now...
here in Sherwood.
- Breakfast? - Not such a bad spot after all, eh?
- Morning. - Morning.
Stop drooling. There's nothing for you. Kitchen's closed.
One meal. That's all you get here. Rules is rules.
That's the truth. You boys are moving out...
unless you can do something we can't do.
- What can you do? - Do?
I can shoot... a bit.
That's fine, isn't it, Harry?
Charlie, we'll do a wand.
- Ready! - If you can shoot closer than Harry...
you can stay.
That little stick?
I can hardly see it.
Just aim for the nearest tree, handsome.
He's right on it.
On your way, handsome.
Look at this! He split it!
It's a miracle, Robin.
It's all in the middle finger.
In the middle finger, Harry.
So what's for breakfast?
A man's on his own here.
We share the caves, the water and the fire.
And nothing else.
We don't share loot unless you go out together.
Understand, handsome?
And since you two are such expert thieves, you can go out on your own.
Unless you'd like to come with me.
- Where are you going? - Great North Road.
- See what's moving. - Fine. We'll come along.
You're first-timers, so don't expect a full share of the loot, handsome.
I don't like that name.
Well, uh, how about sweetheart, then?
You don't like the name, I don't like you.
Shut your mouth, Harry. Hey!
- You'll take me first! - I want him!
- You've offended my guest. - My honor, John.
Well, aren't I the popular one? Right.
- Who's first? - Me.
- I am. - We'll have to toss a coin.
You got a coin, Will?
Certainly, Rob.
Good.
Heads, I win. Tails, John loses.
I'm watching you.
Well, John, seems like I win.
You're learning fast.
- Any of you interested in more money than you've ever seen? - Aye!
- Then we should forget the North Road and try the Hucknall Road. - Why the Hucknall Road?
Because tomorrow is Sir Thomas Mansfield's hunt...
and Miles Folcanet will ride over there this morning...
with a purse full of silver.
And how does an honest thief come to know such things?
Because, like many other thieves, I was invited.
Whoa!
Sir Miles, what a lovely morning for a canter in the woods.
- I didn't expect to see you here. - No, I'm afraid you did not.
And the beauteous Marian. I certainly am not regretting our happy meeting.
But I'm afraid you soon will. Get him! Move!
Get him!
Whoa.
What a pity. I was just beginning to enjoy the chase.
- It isn't over yet, Miles. - Throw down your sword.
This is one corner you cannot escape from.
I think it would save unnecessary bloodshed if you laid down your sword.
Do it. And get off your horses.
Strip them.
- Come on. - Come on!
So, you've sunk to your true level, Hode.
Earl indeed.
You are just another thieving Saxon.
Tell me, Miles, how is your wound?
Hmm. It'll heal.
But some wounds never heal.
Tell that to Daguerre.
Tell my dear old friend...
some wounds...
never heal.
Go.
My future husband is sulking.
Oh, I don't know. 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!
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, torn the guts out of stonemasons...
blinded weavers.
- It's their money. - I didn't think of it like that.
Let's keep it to ourselves for now.
You are an idiot. You made him a rich man.
Who'd think they'd steal the king's taxes? No one would ever...
Who'd think he'd steal the king's taxes?
Who'd think he'd feel the king's wenches?
Enough!
So that's his game.
This Robin Hood couldn't care less about the money.
It's us he's after.
And thanks to you, Miter, he's got us.
Who were these taxes raised for? Prince John.
And even now he's making his royal progress through the land...
collecting his cash.
And when Prince John's men get here...
what have we got to give them?
Nothing.
And we can't raise another tax.
They've got nothing left. We've bled them dry.
So where does the king's money come from?
From... me!
From my... harvests.
My silver goblets.
The clothes on my back!
And who's laughing at us? Robin Hood... outlaw.
What are you spying on?
Here he comes.
Come on!
- Oh, get up. - Come on. Come on.
Come on.
- Move! - Well, well, well.
And what kind of fruit are you to be falling from a tree?
You look familiar. What's your name, young man?
Martin. Martin Pryde.
Pryde, eh? I like it.
You from these parts, Martin?
Been in jail?
What do you want with a bunch of outlaws...
thieves and murderers?
I can ride. I can shoot.
Ooh. What do you say? Shall we give him breakfast?
To earn your breakfast, you've got to split these.
- Mount up. - Where are you going?
Never you mind. Split logs, you'll eat.
Let us pray.
Amen.
Ooh!
- Ooh! - Amen.
I apologize if the steel is cold. It couldn't be helped.
Bless me, Father, for I have sinned a whole lot and I'm doing it again.
Today there will be a special collection for St. Robin.
- There's no such saint... Ooh. - Robin, Father.
Tell them as a symbol of his vow of poverty...
the church renounces all gold and silver...
and that includes the emptying of pockets.
Announce it, unless you want to become more nun than abbot.
Today...
Today, in holy observance of St. Robin...
we remove all gold and silver from sight...
as a symbol of his vow of poverty...
and we ask for a generous offering.
You realize this is a mortal sin, my child.
Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.
Compliments of Friar Tuck.
St. Peter's pinkie. Genuine relic.
Protects you against apoplexy, plague and, uh...
fowl language.
All right, Will.
Mm-hmm.
Let's have a look.
Baron Daguerre, I have to visit the castles of Pontefract...
Ripon and York by nightfall.
I have no time to wait while you stutter out excuses.
- His Majesty, Prince John... - His Majesty?
There is little hope of Richard returning.
Prince John will be crowned king one day, soon.
His Majesty requires you to render his tax...
in total, the sum of 50,000 marks...
to him in person on the 12th day of December.
Gerald. Lord Tewkesbury.
I can raise no more. The people are penniless.
They've come to hate us for these burdens.
Taxes are there to be hated by some, spent by others.
You have a great castle, a great fortune...
barns full of grain, cellars full of wine...
coffers full of silver.
It's your choice.
Lodwick.
I want Robin Hood in this hall in chains.
Miter! Double the reward for information.
No, triple it! Make it irresistible!
Lodwick.
I want all your men out every day.
Scour the North Road, the Hucknall Road.
Take dogs... mastiffs...
bloodhounds, deerhounds.
Track them down.
Find their hideout. Burn them in their beds.
But bring this Robin Hood in front of my fury.
Go.
As for Marian...
is she with him?
Surely not.
I cannot believe...
I'll kill him.
Give me 50 men. I beg you!
No, Miles!
I favor a more subtle approach.
Subtle?
Baron, sometimes you are so wet...
one could shoot snipe off you.
Nicole...
my only comfort.
Nicole... my inspiration.
Hode is ours. You and I can catch him.
Will you help me?
Of course.
Ready!
- Going somewhere, Rob? - An assignation.
You can't go alone. The patrols are everywhere.
An assignation? Might be a trap.
One I would gladly ride into.
- We're coming with you. - You can't go alone.
Then I'll take Martin as my page.
Come on. Jump up.
If we're not back by midnight, we'll be in a Nottingham jail.
Who was Robin Hood before he was Robin Hood?
- Nobody, really. - Must have been someone.
Everybody's someone.
Where is this? Who are you meeting?
Not so many questions. Wait.
Why is it a secret assignation?
- Hmm? - Is it a woman?
Your mistress?
Well, since you're so curious...
I'll tell you a story.
Once upon a time, there was a good-for-nothing...
drunken, young ne'er-do-well, a bit like me.
This lout was befriended by a great lord in a mighty castle.
And in that castle he saw the most beautiful woman in the whole of England.
- Really? In the whole of England? - Mm-hmm.
And France and Spain and the whole world.
And he fell in love with her.
For she was not only beautiful...
she was proud and fiery, as prickly as a thorn...
yet soft as thistledown.
- Am I boring you? - No! No, no. Tell me more.
Well, the tragedy was she was promised to another mighty lord...
a cruel, brutal, ignorant man...
who couldn't make her happy.
- Could he? - Never.
Never, ever. So what happened?
Well, the young man, he was proud also.
He could not control his temper.
He cursed his friend, the mighty lord.
And he was outlawed and went off into the greenwood.
And the maiden did nothing, I suppose.
She was doomed to marry the cruel lord.
But one day, the young man received a message from her.
- Did he? - To ride out alone and meet her.
- What are you saying? - So he did. And here we are.
Robin!
- Marian! - No, it's a trap! Your story is beautiful.
What are you talking about? Marian!
- What are you... - Don't argue! Run for your life!
Back to the river. We'll have to swim for it.
- Who are you? - What a time to ask philosophical questions.
Now go!
The river!
Oh!
Come on!
The river!
After them! Can none of you swim?
Get the horses. We'll cut them off on the other side. Move!
Now do you believe me?
- Now, Martin, I want you to talk to me. - What do you want me to say?
I want you to tell me who you are and why your hair is dyed black.
I'm just a lusty young youth with a swagger and an eye for the girls.
- Don't play with me. - You're so handsome when you're angry.
Do you like me like this?
Marian!
Halt!
Into the cart.
Whoa!
Hey, you. Did you see two men cross this road?
- I got eyes, haven't I, soldier? - Don't give me that, taffy.
- Did you see anyone? - Taffy, is it?
Well, I did. Yes, I did see someone.
I saw the king of England riding by.
One more smart remark, and I'll...
- No one crossed over, right? - Dead right, Captain.
- Spot on. - Back into the woods.
Spread out. They can't be far away.
Get up there! Come on! Hyah! Come on!
You can come out now. Show yourselves.
- Have they gone? - Yeah.
Cozy in there, isn't it?
I'm Emlyn, bow-maker extraordinary.
And I don't like folks as calls me taffy.
Well, Emlyn, you've saved our lives.
This is Martin, my young squire. And I'm...
Don't tell me. Let me guess.
They're making songs about you and your merry men...
and the tricks you get up to.
Keeps us all going, Mr. Hood.
It's an honor to have you onboard my humble cart.
The honor is ours. What are these things we've been lying on?
Oh. These are the makings of 100 bows...
for Baron Daguerre to try out.
Not ordinary bows, mind, but longbows. See?
They are enormous.
Yeah, six-foot long, and hits a mark at 200 foot.
And shoots round corners?
I've never met an Englishman who could resist a bad joke.
No, listen. Pierces armor at 50 paces.
Norman soldiers? No bother at all. Wham!
Like a pigeon on a spit.
They're meant to skewer you, Mr. Hood.
How much is Daguerre paying you for these?
Fifty marks, if I'm lucky.
Half the time, these barons don't pay at all.
I'll give you 100 and all the food you can eat for as long as you stay.
Oh, tiddly idle, idle dum Tiddly idle, idle dum
Tiddly-aye, tiddly-aye Tiddly, tiddly oh
Back before nightfall. Were you going to report me missing to Baron Daguerre?
Stop taking stupid risks, Rob. They want you.
Meet Emlyn. He has the most extraordinary weapon.
- Now, now. - A bow, six-foot tall.
- Can shoot through armor at 50 paces. - Can it shoot round corners?
No, but it fries eggs. Saxon wit.
Tomorrow I'll give you a go at it.
Martin, take Emlyn for something to eat and water his horse.
Anything you say, Robin. Come on.
They've tripled the reward for you, Rob.
There's talk of bounty hunters moving into Nottingham.
- Aye. - 300 marks, Rob.
That's more than a poor man's wildest dreams.
Some of them are desperate. They're starvin'.
Who's to blame 'em for selling out a bunch of cutthroats?
Who indeed?
There is one way, Rob... to win them onto our side.
What have you decided?
All right. Gather around, everyone.
Now, the price on Robin's head is 300 marks, and on us, even 100.
- I'd sell you for 50. - You'd sell your mother for a cooked bat.
Some of us have come to a decision.
The taxes we took in Nottingham are Saxon taxes.
I say we should raise our own taxes... a tax on every abbot, knight, rich merchant...
landowner and baron in Barnsdale and Nottingham, and give that to the poor people.
- What do you say? - Give it away?
All of it? You must be crazy!
No, he's not crazy, Harry. The money belongs to them, not to us.
If we don't, we could lose everything. Someone's bound to talk.
- Why not? - Now, don't get this wrong. We still keep some of it.
A collectors' fee, you could call it. Let's say, huh, half?
So you're all in it? Well, I say you're all crazy.
Why don't we give them the lot and our food as well?
Anyone want to join Harry?
You can ride with him and keep every penny. Speak now.
You're all crazy.
All right. All right, I'll do it. Here's to it.
Good. Fill these purses.
Will, you and the Runnels take Wentbridge and Snaith.
Much, Little, go south to Nottingham.
Marian.
You and I'll go west.
A thousand marks for every village. And make sure they know who it's from.
From Robin Hood, is it?
They killed Tanzie! Tanzie's dead!
They killed him!
What happened?
I don't know who you are, young lad...
and where you've been not to see who's been at work here.
This is the hand of the Norman soldier here, my lad.
What did he do wrong?
They said he knew this Robin Hood.
He didn't.
But if he did, he wouldn't have told them anything.
So they killed him.
My husband.
And then they took every piece of food, every animal...
every valuable thing in this house...
even my granddaughter... 12 years old.
- What would you do to men like that? - I'd kill them.
Here.
It won't bring him back to life, but it might help you buy some food.
It's yours, taken back from them...
by Robin Hood.
Why?
Because they occupy our land. 'Cause we're Saxons.
- I had no idea. - By the same logic, I should kill you.
- Did you give them the money? - Yes. Too late.
I don't know what to say, but I feel guilty.
- What good will that do? - Clear the way!
Hyah! Hyah!
We should be one, undivided, equal and free.
Shh.
Yes.
He's come for the money.
Ha! Just to show you what fools you English are.
Right through it, Emlyn?
Holy Mary in heaven! It really does it.
Like I said, you're English.
- Do you know what I could do with a hundred of these?
Welsh wizard.
Do you think I'm a foolish king or a weakling?
You think I can allow one baron to lose my tax...
while all the others pay...
or should they pay more to make up the loss?
- No, sire. - Majesty!
No, Your Majesty.
- You're not foolish or weak. - Baron Daguerre...
it is you who are foolish and weak.
It's no good pining for my brother Richard.
He won't be back.
And it's no good trying to be nice to your peasants.
They'll just rob you.
Yes, Your Majesty.
It was not the king who let outlaws rob churches...
cut throats and steal purses on the Great North Road.
It was not the king who allowed outlaws to steal his taxes.
No, it is not.
Nor do I permit this Robin Hood...
to ride free over my domains...
turning into the people's champion...
and threatening to topple the whole feudal order...
without which England would revert...
to the anarchy of former days.
The people are singing ballads about him.
They see a new Saxon leader...
emerging to threaten my throne.
He merely wants Norman and Saxon...
to have respect for each other and live in peace.
Mm-hmm. So...
you and he...
basically... agree.
He was your friend?
No, Your Majesty.
Where is your niece?
I wish I knew, Your Majesty.
They say... with him.
I don't know, Your Majesty.
We're going to help you, Baron Daguerre.
Forty of my finest soldiers will stay with you.
I shall put them under the command of Sir Miles Folcanet.
Your Majesty.
At last.
You may count on me.
You will turn over every blade of grass...
in Barnsdale, Sherwood and Nottingham...
until this man and his cutthroats are brought to the gallows...
and disemboweled while they still breathe.
I will not have my throne threatened...
I will not have Saxon mock Norman...
and I will have my money!
Don't worry.
We will find him for you.
Martin?
Martin!
Martin?
Martin.
No, can't find him anywhere.
Harry's up to no good.
Saddle up a dozen horses. Search the woods.
You, there! Open up!
No peddlers today.
- Off you go. - I'm no peddler.
Tell Sir Roger I brought a wedding present for Sir Miles.
Tell him I brought the bride.
- Let him through! - Raise the portcullis!
You have changed, Marian.
Are you all right?
I've never been better.
Look at you. Look what she's done to herself.
It's nothing to what I'm going to do to you.
- The hair is not a great improvement. - It'll scrub out.
- Clean her up! - You can scrub me, you can dip me in perfume.
It's too late, Miles.
What you want has been given to another man...
with the greatest of pleasure!
Go!
Sir, if I've, uh...
If I've been of some service...
perhaps there's some small token... uh, reward...
You found her where?
In Sherwood Forest, sir. I recognized her straight off.
So then you're not one of Hode's men?
Oh, no, sir. Not me, sir. No, he's not a man to be trusted, sir...
from what I hear.
You are a liar! Take him down.
Find out everything he knows... the hideout, weapons, numbers.
Make him sing any way you please!
No, sir, please! I only did it for the reward!
I'll tell you everything about Robin Hood, sir!
Everything, sir! Please, no!
You're sure it was her?
- And they marry tomorrow? - That's the word.
- I've got to get into the castle. - It can't be done.
The royal guard are everywhere. They're dangerous men.
- But forgive me, I must go back. - Thank you.
You're a good friend.
This wedding cannot take place.
There are ways into that castle. Emlyn could drive his cart in.
Robin, you cannot put us all in danger to stop a wedding.
It may be All Fools' Day tomorrow...
but there's no need for us to carry on as if we're...
- Much, you're a genius. - Huh?
They expect us to wait here for them like frightened rabbits.
Harry's probably told them exactly what they need to know.
But let us not do what they expect.
Let us take the battle to them right into their mighty fortress.
- Good, but how? - As Much says, tomorrow is All Fools' Day...
when the fools' parade cannot be refused admission, even to the greatest castle.
So we'll have a parade.
Friar Tuck will be the lord of misrule riding on Emlyn's cart.
Everybody will join in... mummers, giants, jesters...
a whole procession of fools.
Sir Miles, my lady is not decent.
No, Nicole.
Your lady is not decent.
But I'll have her all the same.
Does she understand? She will be wed tomorrow.
She will stand beside me, and when the question comes...
she will answer, "I will. ' '
You are a foolish, brutal man, Miles.
Your desire disgusts me!
I will not marry you...
tomorrow or any day.
I have willingly given myself to another man.
You will marry me tomorrow!
And your other man will surely die.
She is your charge.
Make sure she's there in the morning...
properly dressed...
and willing!
Nicole, you're a woman of great appetite.
Most women are...
creatures of appetite.
What men don't seem to understand.
Does it offend you?
No...
but we must move.
The great wedding day.
I go to bed a richer man if...
She'll be there.
My brother raised a proud girl.
No wonder Robert loves her.
That's why he'll be here.
He is here already.
He can't stay away.
Fix that ruby. You're all fingers and thumbs.
Come on, girl. Put it in the center.
Don'tjust stand there gawping.
Everybody stand back, out of the way.
You're the most beautiful bride England's ever seen.
I am the most pitiful bride England's ever seen.
I...
Make way for the ship of fools!
I am the captain, the lord of misrule.
Now winter is cracking the doors of spring.
Here come we to rejoice and sing...
to play the fool, to laugh and quarrel...
and turn the whole world upside down.
So loose the animals into your bed.
Dance and tumble, pipe and play.
- The sun has driven... - Stop!
Jack Frost... away.
You rabble don't get in here today. Off you go!
On All Fools' Day, neither rich man, nor poor...
on the guises may close his door...
or laughter and joy will be his nevermore.
So open up in the name of folly! Bring us some wine and fill our belly.
We'll have some fun with jests and song.
We'll make you laugh and we'll right all wrong.
Let them in.
Take it up!
We come here today in the sight of Almighty God...
to join these two together in holy matrimony.
Down with the demon king! Liberate the devils!
Here, take these quickly!
- Come on! - Hand 'em out!
Come on. Fight!
Come on!
Marian, daughter of Sir Reginald Daguerre of Westlake...
do you swear before Almighty God...
to take this man, Miles Folcanet, knight of Derby...
as your lawful wedded husband...
to have and to hold, to cleave to in the flesh...
to love, honor and obey...
for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health?
You say, "I do. ' '
Marian?
I will not marry him...
Not before God or anyone else.
Draw!
Shoot!
Draw!
Shoot!
I'll take her. Whether she says yes or no, it doesn't matter.
In the sight of God, all things are made plain, my son.
And it seems quite plain she doesn't want you.
Abbot, your opinion was not asked for...
nor for that matter was your version of God's opinion.
Pronounce us man and wife now...
or you'll be consulting God direct!
Take the castle!
Come on!
Good morning, Baron.
Good morning, Sir Miles.
Hold tight, Marian.
- Hode. - Folcanet.
This time you have bitten off more than you can chew!
Lecherous...
treacherous...
evil...
Saxon...
lout!
- Please, I'm dying. A priest. - I am a priest!
I must confess my sins before I meet my maker!
- You haven't got time. - Please, give me a blessing!
My son...
Your sins are forgiven.
You have played your last trick.
Come on! This way!
Daguerre!
You have blood on your hands, Baron... the blood of my people!
And for what reason? To keep us down...
and to keep your incompetent kings upon a dung heap.
Ha! Incompetent for a Saxon!
You lost, remember? You know why? Because you're too incompetent to win.
Lie!
We will make England the greatest nation in the world in spite of the English!
A nation of serfs led by thieves...
plunderers and autocrats.
Is that really what you want, Baron?
We could conquer Europe.
More serfs, more autocrats.
Give me back my country.
It is my country too.
Then drop your sword.
And out goes your candle!
Marian!
Robin!
I'll cut you in two like the viper you are.
Beware my flickering tongue, Miles.
You're dead, snake.
Welcome to hell.
My friends, I, baron and feudal lord of this shire...
do here, in your sight, pay homage to those...
whose claim to this land is older and more sacred than mine...
to sir Robert Hode and to all of you.
Stand up, Roger.
- We all live on this island. - We do.
And to point the way to the future...
let us have a wedding between Saxon and Norman, between Robert and Marian!
Provided, of course, she agrees.
I will not marry to symbolize a peace or to ratify a treaty.
But this man I will take...
because he makes the May tree blossom...
and the bees buzz in my breast.
I will take this man...
because he brings springtime to my heart.
By the toe of Saint George and the tail of a trout...
let the cockerels crow and the bells ring out.
Let the green shoots thrust through the snow and ice...
let little girls giggle and taste of spice.
For a wedding, a union, a coupling we crave...
and a jigging it up and down we shall have.