I don't know how I look to you, but I'm not your Marian. I can't imagine living in the...

Maid Marian: I don't know how I look to you, but I'm not your Marian. I can't imagine living in the world again, or even for a minute wanting to. Come morning, I'm going to the Sheriff. Robin Hood: What's the sense? Who would it serve? Maid Marian: There's always God. You went crusading, didn't you? Robin Hood: There are some things worth dying for. Maid Marian: They had souls, too, the heathen that you killed. If I should die in prison-and I'd rather not, but if it comes-it's for a reason. I'll have stood for something, and I won't have taken another life to do it. What will you do now? Fight the Sheriff? More corpses? Aren't you sick of it? Robin Hood: On the twelfth of July, 1191, the mighty fortress that was Acre fell to Richard, his one great victory in the Holy Land. He was sick in bed and never struck a blow. On the eighth of August, John and I stood outside watching while every Muslim left alive was marched out in chains. King Richard spared the rich for ransoms, took the strong for slaves, then he took the children-*all* the children-and had them chopped apart. Then he had their mothers killed. When they were all dead, three thousand bodies on the plain, he had them all opened up so their guts could be explored for gold and precious stones. Our churchmen on the scene-and there were many-took it for a triumph! One bishop put on his mitre and led us all in prayer. And you ask me if I'm sick of it. Maid Marian: Why didn't you come home then? Robin Hood: Because... he was my King.