This stimulated the knight's emulation:
young Gamwell supplied him with a bow and arrow, and he took his
station among the foresters, but had the mortification to be out-shot
by them all, and to see one of them lodge the point of his arrow
in the golden ring of the centre, and receive the prize from the hand
of the beautiful Matilda, who smiled on him with particular grace.
The jealous knight scrutinised the successful champion with
great attention, and surely thought he had seen that face before.
In the mean time the forester led the lady to the station.
The luckless Sir Ralph drank deep draughts of love from the matchless
grace of her attitudes, as, taking the bow in her left hand,
and adjusting the arrow with her right, advancing her left foot,
and gently curving her beautiful figure with a slight motion of her head
that waved her black feathers and her ringleted hair, she drew the arrow
to its head, and loosed it from her open fingers. The arrow struck
within the ring of gold, so close to that of the victorious forester
that the points were in contact, and the feathers were intermingled.
Great acclamations succeeded, and the forester led Matilda to the dance.
Sir Ralph gazed on her fascinating motions till the torments of baffled
love and jealous rage became unendurable; and approaching young Gamwell,
he asked him if he knew the name of that forester who was leading
the dance with the Queen of the May?
"Robin, I believe," said young Gamwell carelessly; "I think they
call him Robin.
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