der the disguise of Locksley, wins the prize for
his skill in archery.]

The sound of the trumpets soon recalled those spectators who had already
begun to leave the field; and proclamation was made that Prince John,
suddenly called by high and peremptory public duties, held himself
obliged to discontinue the entertainments of the morrow's festival.
Nevertheless, that, unwilling so many good yeomen should depart without
a trial of skill, he was pleased to appoint them, before leaving the
ground, to execute the competition of archery intended for the morrow.
To the best archer a prize was to be awarded, being a bugle-horn,
mounted with silver, and a silken baldric richly ornamented with a
medallion of St. Hubert, the patron of sylvan sport.

More than thirty yeomen at first presented themselves as competitors,
but when the archers understood with whom they were to be matched,
upwards to twenty withdrew themselves from the contest, unwilling to
encounter the dishonor of almost certain defeat.

The diminished list of competitors for sylvan fame still amounted to
eight. Prince John stepped from his royal seat to view the persons of
these chosen yeomen. He looked for the object of his resentment, whom
he observed standing on the same spot, and with the same composed
countenance which he had exhibited upon the preceding day.

"Fellow," said Prince John, "I guessed by thy insolent babble thou wert
no true lover of the long-bow, and I see thou darest not adventure thy
skill among such merry-men as stand yonder."

"Under favor, sir," replied the yeomen, "I have another reason for
refraining to shoot, besides the fearing discomfiture and disgrace."

"And what is thy other reason?" said Prince John.

"Because I know not if these yeomen and I are used to shoot at the same
marks; and because, moreover, I know not how your Grace might relish the
winning of a third prize by one who has unwillingly fallen under your
displeasure."

"What is thy name, yeoman?"

"Locksley," answered the yeoman.

"Then Locksley," said Prince John, "thou shalt shoot in thy turn, when
these yeomen have displayed their skill. If thou carriest the prize,
I will add to it twenty nobles; but if thou losest it, thou shalt
be stript of thy Lincoln green, and scourged out of the lists with
bowstrings, for a wordy and insolent braggart, and if thou refusest my
fair proffer, the Provost of the lists shall cut thy bowstring, break
thy bow and arrows,