The shaft flew straight; the archer fell forward with a cry, and lay on his face upon the ground, his arrows rattling about him from out of his quiver, the gray goose shaft wet with his; heart’s blood. Then, before the others could gather their wits about them, Robin Hood was gone into the depths of the greenwood. Some started after him, but not with much heart, for each feared to suffer the death of his fellow; so presently they all came and lifted the dead man up and bore him away to Nottingham Town.

Meanwhile Robin Hood ran through the greenwood. Gone was all the joy and brightness from everything, for his heart was sick within him, and it was borne in upon his soul that he had slain a man.
‘Alas!’ cried he, ‘thou hast found me an archer that will make thy wife to wring! I would that thou hadst ne’er said one word to me, or that I had never passed thy way, or e’en that my right forefinger had been stricken off ere that this had happened! In haste I smote, but grieve I sore at leisure!’ And then, even in his trouble, he remembered the old saw that ‘What is done is done; and the egg cracked cannot be cured.’