DEATH OF ROBIN HOOD
DID you ever wonder what happened to Robin Hood? I used to wonder that a lot. I used to lie awake at night, saying, ‘I wonder what happened to Robin Hood?’ I used to pound the pavements at four in the morning: ‘Oh, Robin – what happened?’
You see, when I was a wee boy, I had
several Robin Hood books, as most boys did. Kind aunties tend to give you Robin Hood books. And they were always the same.
On the last page, Robin had just won that contest – that archery thing – and he was walking into the distance with Marian, with his arm over her, and the Merry Men were saying, ‘Cheerio, Robin! All the best, Robin!’
‘Yeah, cheerio, lads! Keep it goin’, boys!’
‘Keep in touch, Robin! Tell us all about it, know what I mean?’ ‘Hey, Robin, can we watch?’ ‘No!’ And they walk into the distance. And that’s the end.
But I always wondered: what happened after that, to Robin – whatever became of the chap? Well, I’ll tell you. Because I found out.
Robin didn’t do too well at all. As a matter of fact, luck didn’t shine on Robin.
Things went from bad to worse. They got very poor and ended up in furnished rooms in Nottingham, him and Marian.
And Robin got old like everybody else, and he had silver hair and a wee silver beard.
And he was close to death, sitting up in bed, with his wee Lincoln Green pyjamas on, and the feather in his hat went: wilt. And for Robin it was all over.
And he said, ‘Marian… Mar-ian… MARIAN!’ And she came in. ‘Er, what is it? What is it now – more Lucozade?’
‘No, Marian… Marian, I fear I am close to death. Please fetch the Merry Men.’
She goes, ‘Ah, aw right.’ And away she went.
And then they came in: ‘Hey, eh, how’s it goin’, pal, yer aw right, Robin? Where’s the half bottle, eh?’
He says, ‘Merry Men, I gathered you here because I’m close to death.
‘Little John, you were always my very special chum… please fetch my longbow.’
‘Aye, aw right. Er, yer not goin’ tae commit suicide or somethin’, are ye?’ So he gives him the bow. ‘Thank you. And an arrow?’ ‘Jesus Christ, what am I, a message boy? Coh! There’s yer arrow!’ ‘Thanks, Little John.’
He puts the arrow in the bow. And he knelt up in bed, with his wee scrawny legs shaking, and he says, ‘Little John, please open the window.’
‘Coh! Gawd Almighty! There ye go!’ And he points. He says, ‘Wheresoever this arrow may land, there shall I be buried!’ F li ii ii ii iii iinng! And they buried him on top of the wardrobe.
Tall Tales and Wee Stories by Billy Connolly, published by Two Roads, £20, is out now. © Billy Connolly 2019 Offer price £16 (20 per cent discount) valid until November 22, 2019. To order, call 01603 648155 or go to www. mailshop. co.uk FREE delivery on all orders – no minimum spend