The Adventures of Robin Hood (Warner Bros.) (1938)

Ree York. Please stat, name of mewspaper, Editor I (Pick up head from previous day) THE STORY THUS see Rt ae ting br lohn. At a jousting h before the other, Prince JohnJ lag buckling Norman panei Sir’ Robin of Locksley, a swash Norman, thus winning the h ‘Lad sweetheart of Sir Guy, ate of ro ged oa Gawes 2 “hy ROBIN HOOD Se Warner Bros. Present “THE ADVENTURE: 5g HOOD" in Technicolor, with ERROL FLYNN, Siivin De rf HAVILLAND, BASIL RATHBONE, CLAUDE RAINS, 4 Patric Knowles, Eugene Pallette, Alan Hale, Melville Cooper, per Der) ‘e\ Jan Hunter and Una O' . . A forei Sir G % ak ‘ na O'Connor; Directors, Michael Curtiz and that King Richard ha, loreign cow held for uy’s sweetheart, Word comes King Richard has 4 William Keighley; Original Sc: Play Bi i & ransom. John sees hi, been capt abroad been captured and held for 36 ne and Seton I. Miller, Based On ‘Robin iol Lanes reckons without Rebameell upon the English Throne, but ya io bin ransom abroad. Prince John, ak mM ¥ TPT INS! Ph om ic by Erich Wolfgang Korngold. A First National Picture d] Fictionized by Harry Lee RT DELS CS BOTT tO KORT ERC 4 Fam aS SAFI I SHUT CHAPTER II RINCE JOHN spok P though the news ve him sorely. _ . but when King Richard now « ‘ tome again, ’e’ll escapes and gets tig ih Our good K take the ot of Fe ye into the CHAPTER Il . 7 7 Ci Sa ’ rt ICHARD OF THE LION _ with a rope than you'll have with Ss th pe Byron Necrar 0° ee og willl’? HE GREAT HALL of — support a mighty appetite!’’ ear o> amag foe. see Tee *“My noble brother mented. Sir Guy in an overpowering fu Nottingham Castle flared ‘CRE door neall rns the Crusades in 1191 — mis_b!azed_with hate. 4 captive. gnatched his sword from its and faded in the light of Port it,’’ said Robin genially, help trusting his Saxon-hating brother, Prinee John, put England under a Regency. Bitterly resentful, and backed by Sir Guy of Gisbourne and other powerful Norman barons, Prince John avidly Sir Robin’s eyes were laughing —and as he drew rein before Prince John, the tiny golden bells on his horse’s bridle tinkled mer rily. Again the trumpet and the her ald’s ery: ‘‘Know ye, good peo in a foreign land!”’ Then, jn his best imperial manner, he summoned a courtier. ‘Te Sir Guy of Gisbourne to or. der a meeting of all the Nor. man barons .. . for a week from tonight !’’ ised it high and was strike down the little map pers i ado. But at that in stant a great black arrow screamed out of the forest. It struck the proadsword from Sir Guy’s hand and hurled it a dozen yards With an exclamation he scabbard, T@ torches that hung in cressets on the dark stone walls, from which glimmered the gorgeous banners of the Normans—and the long table was surrounded by banqueters. Prince John, resplendently be ing himself to food from his neighbor’s trencher,’’ for it has little to fatten on when you tax-gatherers are through!’’ You think you’re overtaxed?’’ asked Prince John, with a wink at the scandalized Bishop of the Black Canons. i ple, that in-the final joust of the This done he off P . awaited an excuse to seize the day, according to ancient custom, i hd ger aie arm pels his stinging wrist. jeweled, partook of neither meat Robin nodded energetically as Regents’ power, amusing him— the visiting knight shall have the followed by the Bishop rat _ Breathless silence fell upon the nor drink, but mused darkly on he ate. self meanwhile with the hunt privilege, if he so desire, to de Dinek Cenions).the High keris ae company. ways and means to raise himself <‘Overtaxed, overworked and and the joust. On a day which he was not likely to forget, Prince John was in attendance at a jousting match in the courtyard of Nottingham Castle, where, in the windy sunlight, under fluttering pennants, a motley crowd was gathered— the blazing silks and velvets of the nobility in contrast with the more sober garb of the people, and the rags of serfs and beggars. Prince John sat in the royal box with the lovely Lady Marian Fitzwalter. The unctuous Bishop of the Black Canons was with him, too, and the notoriously stupid Sir Robin of Locksley heanale the tilting-match at Nottingham mand .of Lady Marian Fitzwalter, our Maid of Honor—or whomsoever else he deems fairest—her fa vor to wear as a gage in the combat!’’ Then Lady Marian who was in the act of giving her kerchief to Sir Guy, withheld it, flushing an grily. ‘‘Does this mean, Your Highness,’’ she asked haughtily,’’ that I am to give my favor to this —this—Saxon!’’ Prince John nodded. Robin wheeled his horse, and ignoring the Lady Marian, rode toward a group of the poorest Saxons. Halting before a wither tle ws High Sheriff of Nottingham, not to mention many lords and ladies of Norman sympathies. Suddenly a hush fell over the crowd—the silence before a storm. Two knights in full armor, vis ors down, the favors of their ladies fluttering from their helmets, rode toward each other at full gallop, and met with terrific foree and the shattering of lances, in the centre of the lists. «Well, my Lady Marian,’’ inquired Prince John jubilantly, ‘was it not well worth your while to come with me from London Town to see what stout arms our Nottingham cousins havet’’ Before she could answer the herald’s trumpet was announcing the next tilt. He lowered his horn and shouted, ‘‘The next joust will be between the valiant Norman knight, Sir Guy of Gisbourne...’" Frenzied applause from the Normans interrupted him. ‘‘. . . and the Sazon knight — Sir Robin of Locksley ..."’ Sir Robin sat his snowy steed in full armor with lance, sword and shield, the latter bearing his device, black arrows on a field of white. His helmet was carried by the youthful squire he called Will Scarlet, fantastically dressed in the hue that matched his name. ‘*This Saxon seems to have many friends, Your Highness!’’ said the lovely Marian, evidently not too well pleased. ‘‘A lot of good ’twill do him against Gisbourne!’’ snorted Prinee John. Turning to the ponderous High Sheriff he asked brusquely, ‘‘ Who is he anyway — this Robin of Locksley ?’’ ‘*A trouble-maker, Your High ness,’ said the High Sheriff, his little eyes glinting, ‘‘an independent reckless rogue who goes about the Shire stirring up the Saxons against authority!’’ ‘*Against me?’’ The High Sheriff nodded vigorously and was about to say more when the Bishop, rolling his eyes toward heaven, interrupted: ‘‘And he sets himself up as a saviour of the common people! ’’ «Ill bear the knave in mind!’’ murmured the Prince ominously. As the two knights cantered toward the royal box, Sir Robin, who appeared to be saying nothing at all, murmured out of the corner of his mouth, ‘‘You’re looking uncommonly well-pleased with yourself today, Sir Guy! Are you planning a hanging?’’ ««T know a fit subject for one!’’ **You might have more luck ed crone, he saluted her gravely and said, ‘‘I beg your favor, my Lady!’’ The old woman backed away, frightened, but he leaned over her whispering eagerly, ‘*Hurry, Granny! Give me your kerchief—anything—but quickly!’’ She hastily whipped off her kerehief, gave her nose a speedy dab with it, and handed it to him. The Saxons cheered tumultuously. He bowed to the old woman again and rode back to the royal box. As he passed the Lady Marian she was giving Sir Guy her kerchief, but found time to direct a scornful glance at Sir Robin. ‘‘Ladies . . .’? he thought to himself with a chuckle, ‘‘change their minds with the winds that ‘low! The Lady Marian is a comely wench! ’’ Again the trumpet blast — the blaring voice—and the two knights, their helmets bearing the oddlyassorted favors of their ladies, visors down, lances at rest — galloped forward from opposite sides of the lists. They collided violently, their lances shattered, but neither unhorsed. Again they came together with terrifie foree. Robin’s hurled lance caught Sir Guy squarely and swept him from his saddle. With wild clamor the Saxons proclaimed Robin the victor. Leaving his horse in the care of Will Scarlet the winner strode nonchalantly toward Prince John whose displeasure was evident through the smile that distorted his wily face. ‘<Congratulations, Sir Robin,’’ he said, ‘‘on a lucky stroke!’’ «*My thanks, Your Highness!’’ Robin replied with the utmost good humor, ‘‘It was also lucky that my lance was tipped with a eronell . . . else Nottingham would now be in sore need of a new lord . . . And the lovely Lady Marian of a new lover!’’ Prince John’s red face flushed redder and he was about to make an angry reply. But a courier from foreign lands arrived, his horse lathered with foam. «*4 message from France, Your Highness, from your brother, King Richard. On his way to England he was captured in Vienna by Leopold of Austria, He is held for ransom at the Castle of Durenstein!’’ Prince John — seeing himself upon the Throne of England — could hardly hide his evil joy. But he reckoned without Robin! (Continued tomorrow) Nottingham and the rest of hig traitorous Norman retainers, he left the courtyard for the Great Hall of the Castle. ‘*You well know, Robin, what that means to all Saxons!’’ gaiq Will Scarlet, as knight and squire eantered jinglingly out of Nottingham toward the open country, «(It means,’’ answered Robin grimly, ‘‘that a mad dog will be let loose among them!’’ Then, with a steely smile, his hand on his trusty bow, he added, ‘‘ Which means, @ mad dog will be routed, Will, my lad!’’ Within a week their prophecy eame true. Inoffensive Saxons were thrown into irons, lashed and robbed, and their houses burned to the ground. Sir Guy of Gisbourne—so re. cently worsted in the joust by the enchanted lance of Sir Robin— was riding in state through Sherwood Forest one fine afternoon with other knights in armor, their squires and an escort of mounted men, when he spied far above him on a sunny slope a grazing deer. , He regarded it casually for it was no uncommon sight. But when the te animal fell pierced by an arrow, Sir Guy reined his steed, and waited breathlessly. A moment later, a small, barefoot man in a leather jerkin ran from hiding, glanced furtively about and seeing no one, whipped out his knife, and knelt to skin his forbidden prey Sir Guy spurred his horse, and gesturing to the others to follow, rode furiously up the slope toward the fallen deer. The poacher, hearing the commotion, made a mad dash for his life, but soom the Norman horsemen, thundering about him, bore him to the ground. A dwarfish man, he’ fought desperately, but was soon overpowered and borne panting and frothing at the mouth before the outraged Sir Guy of Gisbourne. «©Your name, you Saxon dog!’’ «A b-better one than yours .-ye black .. .’” ««Mind your manners!’’ shouted one of the men-at-arms, & burly fellow, smashing him across the mouth, ‘‘This is Sir Guy of Gisbourne!” “<Sir Guy or the devil there’s little choice atween them... I...?? began the little man but a rain of kicks and blows silenced him. The man-at-arms, by way of precaution, pointed a knife at his throat. ‘«¢What are you called, I said «*M-mueh-the-Miller’s-Son . + + Sus... 27? “©You know it’s death to kill the King’s deer?’’ ‘(And death from ‘unger if we don’t... thanks to you an’ the rest of Prince John’s Norman cutthroats at Notting’am Castle . ri “‘Shut up, you!’?” bellowed the master-at-arms, doing disturbing things with the knife. But Muchthe-Miller’s-Son refused to be hushed. ‘I'll not shut up for no Norman ’edge-robbers, so I won’t . . . Kill me if ye like, Sir Guy, but first Ill ’ave me say! Ye can ee a rd Robin, having saved the poacher’s life, warns him to ges! _he-shoots Then they heard the snapping of twigs, and out of the green wilderness rode two merry knights, one in scarlet, one in Lincoln green. <owhat the devil . .’? began Sir Guy, but the one in green interrupted him gently, a faintly ironical smile on his brown young face. ‘‘Come now, Sir Guy... you wouldn’t kill my servant for telling the truth!’’ ‘For killing the King’s deer, whether for serf or noble,’’ Sir Guy rejoined sharply, ‘‘the penalty is death! If.-this man is your servant... 98 you gay...’ Still smiling Robin took his bow from Will Searlet, fitted an arrow into it and aiming it at Sir Guy’s heart, said courteously, «Phe penalty, I take it, is still death, even if I intended the deer for Prince John’s table — and mean to bring it to the meeting of the barons tonight at Nottingham Castle!’’ Sir Guy looked hard at the arrow—looked hard at Robin. Then, white with rage, he wheeled his horse and started down from the glade. look before Much padded across the velvet carpet of the turf, knelt awkwardly before Robin, took both his hands in his own, lifted them to his tousled head, and left them there, in token of fealty. **Thanks, good master . . .’’ he mumbled in humble gratitude. **Look before you shoot next time, little man,’’ said Robin kindly. ‘* From this day, Master,’’ vowed Much solemnly, ‘‘I follers only you!’’ **What? Why, you 5 ee cei iy, you don’t even “*Don’t know yer... tek... tek . . . tek! Why, bless your Yeart, there ain’t a poor Saxon in all Notting’amshire as don’t know an’ pray for Sir Robin of Locksley!’’ ‘*He needs their praycrs . . .’” ‘*Take me for your servant, Master! In the ’ole forest there’s no such ’unter as me... I'll be faithful to yer... 1 ,..’? **But I don’t need you ...’? **T asks no pay, Master... I only asks to foller you... .?? S* But 5.:.”" ‘*Where you goes,’’ said Much obstinately, ‘‘I follers!’’ **Fetch the deer, then .. .’? Almost tearful with joy Muchthe-Miller’s-Son did as he was told. When at last Robin and Will Searlet were mounted and ambling along under the shadowy boughs ... Much trudged-happily after, bearing the body of the deer on his shoulders. And the moon was rising. ** And now for Nottingham Castle and the banqueting barons, Will,’’ sang out Robin, ‘‘and ehicken-hearted John!’’ **I’m thinking he’ll open his eyes when you drop down the deer before him!’’ **He’ll open them wider, i’ faith, at what follows!’’ (Continued tomorrow) to the seats of the mightiest. At last he turned to the jocular knight next to him and asked a question. All stopped to listen as the oracle spoke. ‘*Any more objections to the new tax, from our Saxon friends?’’ ‘*A troublesome one, Your Highness,’’ replied Sir Guy venomously, ‘‘And that one is Sir Robin of Locksley!’’ “«Oho, I see, Sir Knight,’’ taunted Prince John. ‘‘The one who jarred the Lady Marian— and you, too, if I remember rightly—on the day of the joust! What’s he been doingt’’ Robin, having dropped the deer on the sable of Prince John, re paid off with a knife or a club or a rope .. .’? he murmured dreamily. Suddenly he stopped eating and looked squarely at Prince John. ‘You know, we Saxons aren’t going to put up with it much longer!’’ “<Oh, you’re not aren’t yout’’ cried John, his anger rising. «Well; listen to me! . . . I called this meeting of my friends .. to tell them that to pay off Richard’s ransom, they’ve got to collect, not two gold marcs on the pound, but three! .And the money is to be paid to me!’’ «Why to you, Your Highness him as a traitor. “<Only today I caught him kill ing a Royal deer in the forest!’’ “Did you take him?’’ shouted Prinee John. *‘That, Your Highness,’’ began Sir Guy apologetically, would not have been easy .. you see I...’ “‘Right!’’ broke in Sir Geoffrey. ‘‘Give the devil his due, Sir Robin of Locksley is the finest archer in all England!’’ “*But . . .’? thundered Prince John, off on one of his most terrific tantrums, ‘‘killing a Royal deer! I want him brought here at once and hanged! D’ye hear men? Hanged, I say! At once! I'll tolerate no .. .’’ He got no further. From beyond the outer doors eame sounds that brought the guests to their feet, hands on swords. The door burst open and Robin entered thrusting the lackeys to right and left. ‘‘Who’s this?’’ eried Prince John. Then he remembered, for the young man was striding toward him vigorously with the body of a deer across his shoulders. When he reached the banquet table he glanced at the remnants of the meal and at the Prince, and said with an impudently charming smile, ‘‘I hope Sir Guy has given me a better méal than my reception indicates! I no sooner enter the Castle with a bit of meat—than his hungry servants try to snatch it from me!’? He turned to Sir Guy saying with mild reproach, ‘‘You shouldn’t starve them .. . really you shouldn’t! They’d work better well-fed!’’ With these words he deposited the deer on the table, directly under the high-and-mighty nose of Prince John, saying with a ceremonious bow, ‘‘With the compliments of your royal brother, King Richard, God bless him!’’ Prince John whose anger had been melting into stupefaction, suddenly sank into his chair, threw back his head, and laughed himself into a state bordering on suffocation. “(By my faith ...’’ he panted at last, wiping his eyes, ‘‘you’re a bold raseal, Robin . . . but I like you! Have you had meat?’’ **None but this that I brought, Your Highness! ’’ **Sit down then, sit down! Sit there, opposite me! Get up, Sir Ivor, and give him your place! Ho, varlets, bring Sir Robin food! Plenty of it! Such insolence must ». .?? asked Robin with ominous calmness, ‘when King Richard ap pointed Longehamps as Regent?’’ I’ve kicked Longchamps out! From now on, I’m Regent of England!’? As he said the words, his crafty face dark with triumph, Lady Marian came to the upper baleony and looked down on the tense seene. It was as though a star shone through the dusk, One after another the knights vowed fealty to Prince John now that he had made his meaning clear, and swollen with pride he turned to Robin. ‘‘And what about you, my young Saxon cock erelf?? Robin of Locksley sprang to his feet and his words pierced the silence like lighting, ‘‘Every man here who gives allegiance to Prince Jobn,’’ he cried, ‘‘is a traitor! Prinee John has used the King’s misfortune to seize his power .. . and he’ll use that power with the help of you sweet cut-throats here to grind Richard’s ransom out of our helpless Saxon hinds —— a ran som that will be used, not to release Richard, but to buy John’s way to the throne .. .’’ Furious was the uproar that rose from the Norman knights. All leaned forward tensely, hands on swords. It was Sir Guy who pleaded darkly, ‘‘May I not dispose of him, Your Highness?’’ **No, let him spout, for the moment,’’ replied John, livid with fury, and then, to Robin, ‘‘What do you propose to do next?’’ “To organize revolt!’’ cried Robin, ‘‘To exact a death for a death! And never to stop till every Saxon in our shire can stand up to you, free men, and strike a blow for Richard of England!’’ “Take him! Kill him!’’ was the ery. A dozen men with drawn swords leapt on him but his blade flashed out and cut down the nearest. Servants, squires and knights tried to bar his way to the door, but he hacked his way through. A man-at-arms behind him raised his sword to mow him down. At the shrill scream of a woman Robin whirled — caught the man in the belly with his shoulder, and with terrific force heaved him at his enemies. Then cutting down another he dashed to the doorway. Pausing only t. flash up to Marian a salute of thanks with his sword he was out, pulling *the door shut behind him. (Continued tomorrow) gry