have, the ballads, to have a peculiar intrinsic
probability. That neither of them possesses this intrinsic probability
may easily be shown; but first it will be advisable to notice another
theory, which is more plausibly founded on internal evidence, and
claims to be confirmed by documents of unimpeachable validity.

This theory has been propounded by the Rev. John Hunter, in one of his
"Critical and Historical Tracts."[5] Mr. Hunter admits that Robin
Hood "lives only as a hero of song"; that he is not found in authentic
contemporary chronicles; and that, when we find him mentioned in
history, "the information was derived from the ballads, and is not
independent of them or correlative with them." While making these
admissions, he accords a considerable degree of credibility to the
ballads, and particularly to the "Lytell Geste," the last two
_fits_ of which he regards as giving a tolerably accurate account
of real occurrences.

In this part of the story King Edward is represented as coming to
Nottingham to take Robin Hood. He traverses Lancashire and a part of
Yorkshire, and finds his forests nearly stripped of their deer, but
can get no trace of the author of these extensive depredations. At
last, by the advice of one of his foresters, assuming with several of
his knights the dress of a monk, he proceeds from Nottingham to
Sherwood, and there soon encounters the object of his search. He
submits to plunder as a matter of course, and then announces himself
as a messenger sent to invite Robin Hood to the royal presence. The
outlaw receives this message with great respect. There is no man in
the world, he says, whom he loves so much as his king. The monk is
invited to remain and dine; and after the repast an exhibition of
archery is ordered, in which a bad shot is to be punished by a buffet
from the hand of the chieftain. Robin, having himself once failed of
the mark, requests the monk to administer the penalty. He receives a
staggering blow, which rouses his suspicions, recognizes the king on
an attentive consideration of his countenance, entreats grace for
himself and his followers, and is freely pardoned on condition that he
and they shall enter into the king's service. To this he agrees, and
for fifteen months resides at court. At the end of this time he has
lost all his followers but two, and spent all his money, and feels
that he shall pine to death with sorrow in such a life. He returns
accordingly to the greenwo