Written for The Guildford Shakespeare Company
Performed in the open-air.
Little John. The youth approaching me wanted to cross the stream. He clearly didn’t want to splash his dainty slippers, but I wasn’t moving from my log for no man.
Robin. We exchanged witty remarks for a while.
Little John. I was wittier.
Robin. I was more handsome.
Little John. But soon enough, we knew we’d have to fight.
The men begin to re-enact the fight. Perhaps the truth of the situation gives way to a mutual love for the game.
Robin. This giant was an imposing presence. He was as powerful as he was ugly.
Little John. This weakling stood no chance. I deflected his weak blows without breaking a sweat.
Robin. This man-mountain could never match me for speed.
Little John. My superior reach almost made it too easy.
Robin. He fell for every feint and trick.
Little John. But I managed to crack his head easy enough.
Robin. And as I fell into the water…
Little John. He swiped my legs…
Robin. And…
Both men fall to the floor.
Robin. Seeing that he was clearly defenceless without me, I promised to take him in.
Little John. And I swore to teach him the ways of the forest.
