the lord's blessing on you, kind sir. these sinners were attempting to steal these libations destined for the monks of st. catherine's. he indicates his cargo of barrels.
a thousand pardons, sir, but duty beckons. i must hasten on.
lord bless me, sir, are these your men? i had mistook them for common thieves. kindly step aside.
well, sir, if you wish them to share in the good lord's brew.  casually reaching under the seat, he pulls out a club. smites robin with it.
 you must best me for it. robin staggers. the friar whips up the horse. dazed, robin grabs for the fat man's leg. gets a holy sandal full in the face.
giddyup, nag! the friar's horse, as obese as his driver, slowly raises his head from the grass and ambles forward. robin runs after them and dives at the friar, toppling him from the cart.
protect me, lord. he sweeps his foot, knocking robin's legs out from under him. hurls his full body weight on top of him. whooomf!
yield! he bounces on robin's stomach. robin can barely breathe. the woodsmen are enjoying the spectacle.
confess that friar tuck is a better, holier, and braver man than thou art, knave.
yield, i say! yield to friar tuck. desperate, robin bites the friar's leg. tuck howls. robin extricates himself, grabs for a weapon. smashes the friar's head with his drinking jug.
thank you, lord, for teaching me humility.
i'd rather roast in hell. he punches robin in the gut. cut to:
the lord moves in mysterious ways. i accept.
aye, but you may. cut to:
god bless you, sir.
ah, the good lord giveth and the good lord taketh away.
good morrow, brothers.
the child comes early. fanny screams. john kneels beside her, taking her head.
i am doing all i can. aslan appears in the doorway, with robin. whips back the blanket. fanny's chest is covered with black squirming creatures.
get away from her! aslan pushes him away, continuing his work.
he lies. he is the devil's seed, sent to lead us astray.
what do you know, you damned savage?
do not listen to him! he will kill her.
then it will be on your head. i have warned you. he storms out. all business, aslan speaks to wulf.
i tell you, the barbarian is killing her. john moves to the hut. wulf restrains him.
this day god has taught me a fine lesson. he hands aslan the knife and extends his bloodied wrist.
i would be honored. aslan slices his own wrist. the two wrists clasp together in the universal sign of brotherhood. everyone cheers.
you are a good man, my barbarian friend.
we shall open a barrel together and i shall do my damndest to save your heathen soul.
our god made this brew, brother. i merely combined the ingredients. do you dare to insult his works?
come, you son of saladin. a toast to all of jehovah's children. the saved and the damned.
how can these arabs hold jerusalem when they can't even hold their brew? dissolve to:
this holy man believes in doing god's work with his hands.
surely you would not harm a man of the cloth? the man swings, tuck sidesteps.
you would? then to hellfire with you. he pummels the man to the ground with his staff. the woodsmen are broken into two groups. one group, including will, is surrounded and surrenders. the others fight on.
thank you, lord. and thank you, allah.
robin hood! robin hood! robin hood! may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.
he takes a bride of royal blood?
if my heathen brother stays, i stay.
lord, grant us the courage to endure, and if you're as smart as i believe you are, grant us victory.  and the victuals to celebrate it with.
will you pray with me, son of allah?
the lord's finest brew for the good nottingham's fighting men. it has a mighty kick.
out of the way. make way for the lord's business.
as you wish, sire. is there something amiss?
this man will rot in hell as a knave and a liar. these are libations for the celebration of your lordship's nuptials.
why waste fine vintage, my lord? a cask is shattered.  wine torrents out.
my son, there is a holy war being waged outside. release all these wretches and god shall surely find you a place in heaven.
the lord helps those who help themselves. grinning, he pulls open his robes, revealing chest armor .  and a miniature powder keg. he holds it to his flaming torch and tosses it to the jailer.  stupified, the man catches the smoking bomb.
give my regards to the devil. the keg erupts, blowing the jailer through a wall.
sinners, beware! god's avengers are at hand. dying, hal manages a weak smile.
repent, heathen! the man spins to strike back.  freezes.  grinning.  aslan!
amen!
so! you sold your soul to the devil?
blasphemer! you accuse innocent men of druid worship while you practice the black arts yourself. the bishop surreptitiously draws a dagger from his robes.
think again! without an eyeblink's pause, tuck punches the bishop so hard, he flies back through a stained-glass window.
you die on me, you son of satan, and i swear i'll bury you as a christian in st. catherine's cathedral with a thousand monks chanting prayers for your miserable soul. you hear me?
a fine friend you are! by the grace of allah and jehovah we have won the day, and you want to give up the ghost. i'll pickle your remains in mead, lay you in your grave with a pig for a companion, and mark it with a cross as big as this castle.
see. there's life in the heathen dog yet.
by the power vested in me by god's holy church, i now pronounce you husband and wife. tuck is performing the ceremony before the happy couple.
you may kiss the bride. the husband draws back the bride's veil. robin and marian. they kiss.  long.
hurry. we waste good celebration time. they break the embrace, turn to the congregation and start down the aisle. they pause at the front pew, where king richard and members of his court are sitting. robin bows, marian curtsies.