Original Airdate: 7 Sept 2014
(The Doctor is doing Gallifreyan maths on a blackboard up on the gallery, near his bookcase. Clara is down by the console, swivelling in his easy chair.)
DOCTOR: Take a punt.
DOCTOR: Your choice. Wherever, whenever, anywhere in time and space.
CLARA: Well, there is something, someone that I've always wanted to meet. But I know what you'll say.
DOCTOR: Try me.
CLARA: You'll say he's made up, that there is no such thing.
DOCTOR: Go on.
CLARA: It's. It's Robin Hood.
DOCTOR: Robin Hood.
(Clara goes up to the gallery.)
CLARA: Yeah. I love that story. I've always loved it, ever since I was little.
DOCTOR: Robin Hood, the heroic outlaw, who robs from the rich and gives to the poor.
DOCTOR: He's made up. There's no such thing.
CLARA: Ah, you see?
(The Doctor takes a book from the bookcase.)
DOCTOR: Old-fashioned heroes only exist in old-fashioned story books, Clara.
CLARA: And what about you?
CLARA: Yeah, you. You stop bad things happening every minute of every day. That sounds pretty heroic to me.
(The Doctor licks something from a large metal spoon. Custard?)
DOCTOR: Just passing the time. Hey, what about Mars?
DOCTOR: The Ice Warrior Hives.
CLARA: You said it was my choice.
DOCTOR: Or the Tumescent Arrows of the Half-Light. Those girls can hold their drink.
DOCTOR: And fracture fifteen different levels of reality simultaneously. I think I've got a Polaroid somewhere.
CLARA: Doctor! My choice. Robin Hood. Show me.
(They go down to the console.)
DOCTOR: Very well.
(He sets the coordinates.)
DOCTOR: Earth. England. Sherwood Forest. 1190AD. Ish. But you'll only be disappointed.
(He sets the Tardis flying. Meanwhile, the first Doctor is meeting Richard the Lionheart at the Crusades.)
[By a stream]
(The birds are singing, and a long tree trunk has been placed across the stream to act as a bridge. The Tardis materialises slightly up the slope and the Doctor steps out.)
DOCTOR: No damsels in distress, no pretty castles, no such thing as Robin Hood.
(An arrow slams into the Tardis next to him. A figure in dressed in Lincoln Green pops up from behind a tree trunk on the other side of the stream.)
ROBIN: You called? (and winks.) Very, very nicely done with the box, sir. I saw a Turk perform something very similar at Nottingham Fayre.
(The Doctor pulls the arrow out, and the hole vanishes.)
ROBIN: It's a trick with mirrors, no doubt?
DOCTOR: A trick?
ROBIN: A good jest. Ha, ha!
DOCTOR: This is not a trick. This is a Tardis.
ROBIN: Whatever it is, you bony rascal, I'm afraid I must relieve you of it.
DOCTOR: It's my property, that's what it is.
ROBIN: Well, don't you know all property is theft to Robin Hood?
(Robin stands in the middle of the 'bridge' without his bow and arrows.)
DOCTOR: You're not serious.
ROBIN: I'm many things, sir, but I'm never that. Robin Hood laughs in the face of all. Ha, ha, ha.
DOCTOR: And do people ever punch you in the face when you do that?
ROBIN: Not as yet.
DOCTOR: Lucky I'm here then, isn't it?
(Clara comes out of the Tardis, dressed in a red medieval-style dress, with long cut-away sleeves and a thin girdle around her hips. There is also a silver rope across her forehead that stays in place as if glued there.)
CLARA: Might be a little bit much, but what do you reckon, Doctor?
ROBIN: By all the saints. Are there any more in there?
CLARA: Is that?
CLARA: Oh, my God. Oh, my God! It is, isn't it? You found him. You actually found Robin Hood.
(Clara goes very girlish and giggly.)
DOCTOR: That is not Robin Hood.
ROBIN: Well then, who, sir, is about to relieve you of your magic box?
(Robin draws his long sword. The Doctor walks onto the bridge.)
DOCTOR: Nobody, sir. Not in this universe or the next.
ROBIN: Well then, draw your sword and prove your words.
DOCTOR: I have no sword. I don't need a sword.
(The Doctor opens his coat and turns to prove it.)
DOCTOR: Because I am the Doctor.
(He dons a gauntlet.)
DOCTOR: And this is my spoon. En garde!
(They trade thrusts and parries. The spoon stands up to the sword very well. The Doctor hits Robin on the back of the neck as he passes him.)
CLARA: You're amazing.
DOCTOR: I've had some experience. Richard the Lionheart. Cyrano de Bergerac. Errol Flynn. He had the most enormous
CLARA: Takes one to know one.
(The Doctor slaps Robin's backside.)
ROBIN: Oh, you.
(And retaliates by cutting a button off the Doctor's coat. So the Doctor holds his arms wide open and Robin lunges with his sword. The Doctor deflects it and does a little turn so that he and Robin are back to back on the trunk. Then he sticks out his bottom and pushes Robin into the water. Splash!)
(The Doctor polishes his spoon.)
DOCTOR: Like I said. My box.
(They look into the water. Robin is not visible. Because he pops up behind the Doctor and pushes him into the water. Clara and Robin laugh.)
(A few thatched wattle-and-daub buildings, and a Celtic cross on a plinth. Knights in full armour are making the chickens scatter. A young woman is being dragged away chained to yoke across her shoulders. An old man runs up.)
QUAYLE: In the name of all that's holy, take our money, take our treasure, but spare my ward.
QUAYLES WARD: Do not fuss. All will be well.
QUAYLE: This is the Sheriff's doing. If he were here now, I'd tear out his black heart!
(A figure back-lit sitting on a horse speaks.)
SHERIFF: Would you now?
SHERIFF: Or are you as milk-livered as your name suggests, Master Quayle?
QUAYLE: Take me. Spare this dear child.
SHERIFF: Take you? A lardy lack-wit like you? It's labour we require up at the castle. Labour and gold. Not old men and their worthless baubles. This will be a great help, Master Quayle, believe me. Newcomer to Sherwood, are we?
QUAYLES WARD: Yes, my Lord.
SHERIFF: You may also prove useful. Bring her.
QUAYLE: Your days are numbered, you cur.
(Quayle spits in the Sheriff's face.)
SHERIFF: You shall live to regret that. Actually, no. You won't.
(The Sheriff stabs Quayle in the stomach.)
QUAYLES WARD: No! No!
(In a narrow gullly.The outlaws live in shallow caves under the treeline. Robin is making me think of a subdued Lord Flashheart from Blackadder 2, with Clara as Bob.)
ROBIN: Let me introduce you to my men. This is Will Scarlet. He is a cheeky rogue with a good sword arm and a slippery tongue.
WILL: My lady.
(The Doctor pulls some of his hair out as he bows, and scans it with the sonic screwdriver.)
WILL: Argh! What do you want with my hair?
DOCTOR: Well, it's realistic, I'll give you that.
ROBIN: And this is Friar Tuck. Aptly named for the amount of grub he tucks into.
TUCK: You skinny blackguard.
(These men laugh a lot. As he steps forward, he nearly falls.)
TUCK: What are you doing?
(The Doctor stands up with one of his sandals)
DOCTOR: This isn't a real sandal.
TUCK: Yes, it is.
DOCTOR: (sniffs) Oh. Yes, it is.
ROBIN: This, er, is Alan-a-Dale. He's a master of the lute, whose music brightens up these dark days.
ALAN: (sings) Stranger you are welcome here, in Sherwood's bonny glade. Ow!
(The Doctor has jabbed his arm with a hypodermic gizmo.)
DOCTOR: Sorry, sorry, sorry. Blood analysis. Oh. All those diseases. If you were real, you'd be dead in six months.
ALAN: I am real.
ROBIN: And this is John Little. Called Little John. He's my loyal companion in many an adventure.
(The man mountain steps aside and a small man jumps forward, to general merriment.)
WILL: Works every time.
CLARA: Oh, I cannot believe this. You, you really are Robin Hood and his Merry Men.
ROBIN: Aye! That is an apt description. What say you, lads?
DOCTOR: Stop laughing. Why are you always doing that? Are you all simple or something? I'm going to need a sample.
(The Doctor picks up a goblet and throws away the contents before walking up to Robin..)
ROBIN: Of what?
CLARA: Ahem. Excuse me. Sorry. What are you doing?
DOCTOR: Well, they're not holograms, that much is obvious. Could be a theme park from the future. Or we might be inside a miniscope.
(As in Carnival of Monsters)
CLARA: Oh, shut up.
DOCTOR: A miniscope. Yes, of course. Why not?
ROBIN: Your friend seems not quite of the real world.
CLARA: No. No, he's not really. Not most of the time. Dark days?
ROBIN: My lady?
CLARA: You said that these were dark days. What did you mean?
WILL: King Richard is away on crusade, my lady. His tyrant of a brother rules instead.
CLARA: And the Sheriff. Cos there is a sheriff, right?
ALAN: Aye. It is indeed this jackal of the princes who seeks to oppress us for ever more.
DOCTOR: Or six months in your case.
ROBIN: It is a shame to dwell on murky thoughts when there is such beauty here.
CLARA: Why are you so sad?
ROBIN: Why do you think me sad?
CLARA: Because the Doctor's right, you laugh too much.
ROBIN: You know, I do not live this outlaw life by choice. You see before you Robert.
BOTH: Earl of Loxley.
CLARA: Sorry. Do go on.
ROBIN: I er, I had my lands and titles stripped from me. I dared to speak out against Prince John. But I lost the thing most dear to me.
CLARA: What was she called?
ROBIN: You're so very quick. How does the Doctor stand it?
ROBIN: You know her?
CLARA: Oh, yes. I have always known her.
ROBIN: It was Marian who told me that I must stand up and be counted. But, I was afraid. Now this green canopy is my palace and the rough ground my feather bed. Maybe one day I will return home, but until that day. Until that day, it is beholden on me to be the man Marian wanted, to be a hero for those this tyrant sheriff slaughters.
DOCTOR: What time is it, Mister Hood?
ROBIN: Somewhat after noon.
DOCTOR: No, no. Time of year? What season?
ROBIN: Oh, Dame Autumn has draped her mellow skirts about the forest, Doctor. The time of mists and harvest approaches.
DOCTOR: Yeah, yeah. All very poetic. But it's very green hereabouts, though, isn't it? Like I said, very sunny.
DOCTOR: Have you been to Nottingham?
CLARA: Climate change?
DOCTOR: It's 1190.
ROBIN: You must excuse me. The Sheriff has issued a proclamation and tomorrow there is to be a contest to find the best archer in the land. And the bounty, it's an arrow made of pure gold.
CLARA: No! Don't, don't go. It's a trap.
ROBIN: Well, of course it is! But a contest to find the best archer in the land? There is no contest.
DOCTOR: Right, that isn't even funny. That was bantering. I am totally against bantering.
CLARA: How can you be so sure he is not the real thing?
DOCTOR: Because he can't be.
CLARA: When did you stop believing in everything?
DOCTOR: When did you start believing in impossible heroes?
CLARA: Don't you know? In a way, it's rather sweet.
(The Doctor bites into an apple then scans it with his screwdriver.)
(We are shown Caerphilly Castle with its artificial lakes, which was built from 1268 onwards. Nottingham Castle is built on castle rock by the river with the city around it. The contest is taking place in the central ward.)
HERALD: In the contest for the golden arrow, after ten rounds, the battle is betwixt our Lord Sheriff
(Obligatory cheers from the crowd.)
HERALD: And the stranger known as Tom the Tinker.
(Robin in a wide-brimmed leather hat gets a rousing reception.)
SHERIFF: Perhaps not such a stranger after all.
HERALD: Take your places.
ROBIN: Shall we make the contest a little more interesting, my Lord? The targets seem a little close. What say you? Another twenty paces?
SHERIFF: Why not?
(The central target is moved back. The Sheriff fires his black arrow into the middle of the bulls-eye.)
SHERIFF: Now, Tinker. Let us see thy true face.
(Robin's white-fletched arrow splits the Sheriff's.)
HERALD: Ye Gads! He has split the arrow! Truly, he is the finest archer in all England. Come forward, Tinker. And claim your prize.
(But before Robin can take the prize, an arrow with multicoloured feathers splits his own. It is the Doctor's.)
LITTLE JOHN: He's full of surprises, isn't he?
DOCTOR: I'm the Doctor. My skills as a bowman speak for themselves. I claim my reward.
(The Herald kneels and the Doctor takes the prize.)
DOCTOR: A mere bauble.
(He throws it away in the general direction of the Merry Men.)
DOCTOR: I want something else.
SHERIFF: Name it.
(Robin splits the Doctor's arrow. The crowd roars. The Doctor's next arrow ricochets off a guard's armour to split Robin's. Robin retaliates by not even looking when he looses his missile.)
DOCTOR: This is getting silly.
(The Doctor points his sonic screwdriver at the target, and it explodes in a ball of flame.)
SHERIFF: Fascinating. Seize him!
(The three knights draw their swords. Clara takes what looks like an anachronistic halberd from a rack and tries to swing it. It is too heavy for her.)
DOCTOR: What are you doing? Put that down.
CLARA: I'm fine. I take Year Seven for after school Tae Kwon Do.
ROBIN: Don't worry, Doctor. I'll save you.
DOCTOR: I don't need saving.
ROBIN: Your honour is safe.
DOCTOR: I know.
ROBIN: For I am Robin.
(He removes his hat and every one cheers.)
ROBIN: Robin Hood!
(Robin severs one of the knights' arms. It falls to the ground and sparks a bit.)
VOICE [OC]: Witchery! Witchery!
(The Doctor picks the arm up.)
(The knight's visor opens to reveal a metal face. A violet light shines in a cross pattern from between its eyebrows.)
DOCTOR: Now we're getting somewhere.
SHERIFF: Take them. Kill the rest. Kill them all!
(The robot knights fire energy bolts from their foreheads.)
DOCTOR: He surrenders!
(The Doctor uses Venusian aikido to knock Robin's sword out of his hand.)
ROBIN: You miserable cur. I had them on the run. Flee, lads, flee! Live to fight another day!
TUCK: Come on!
(The Merry Men run for their lives.)
SHERIFF: To the dungeons with all of them.
CLARA: What are you up to?
DOCTOR: Quickest way to find out anybody's plans, get yourself captured.
(Somewhere with little lighting and a high roof. There are screams somewhere and a giant bubbling crucible. A man carrying a bucket collapses on the floor.)
QUAYLES WARD: Here, let me help you.
WALTER: Thank you, Lady.
(A knight looks at them, visor open.)
QUAYLES WARD: What are you? Gargoyle, what are you?
KNIGHT: Leave it.
QUAYLES WARD: He only needs to rest. We all need to rest.
KNIGHT: Analysis shows that peasant creature is spent.
QUAYLES WARD: No. No, please.
KNIGHT: Usefulness expired.
WALTER: No. No! No!
(A violet energy beam turns him into a smoking pile of rags.)
QUAYLES WARD: Damn you! Damn you and that villain the Sheriff!
(A skeleton is sitting up against a stake fastened into the floor of the stone chamber. A single cross slit illuminates the room. Our three heros chained together, with the chains running through large hoops set into stones in the floor. Robin is on the left as we look at them, then the Doctor, then Clara..)
ROBIN: Splendid. Enchained.
ROBIN: Trussed up like turkey-cocks. Thanks to your friend.
DOCTOR: Shut it, Hoodie. I saved your life.
ROBIN: I had the situation well in hand.
DOCTOR: Long-haired ninny versus robot killer knights? I know where I'd put my money.
ROBIN: If you had not betrayed me, I would have been triumphant.
DOCTOR: You would have been a little puff of smoke and ashes.
ROBIN: Oh, ha!
DOCTOR: You'd have been floating around in tiny little laughing bits in people's goblets.
ROBIN: Balderdash. Ha!
DOCTOR: Oh, right, here we go. It's laughing time.
ROBIN: Well, you amuse me, grey old man.
DOCTOR: Guard! He's laughing again! You can't keep me locked up with a laughing person.
ROBIN: Oh, I find that, I find that quite funny. Do you know, I feel another laugh coming on. A-ha-ha-ha!
DOCTOR: Guards, I cannot remain in this cell. Execute me now.
ROBIN: You heard him. Execute the old fool.
DOCTOR: No, hang on. Execute him.
ROBIN: I do not fear death, so execute away.
DOCTOR: Execute him. I'd like to see if his head keeps laughing when you chop it off!
ROBIN: Oh, Robin Hood always laughs in the face of death.
DOCTOR: Yes, rolling around the floor laughing, I would pay good money to see that.
DOCTOR + ROBIN: Guard! Guard! Guard! Guard! Guard! Guard!
CLARA: Oh, you two, shut up! Do either of you understand, in any way at all, that there isn't actually a guard out there?
ROBIN: I did, in fact.
DOCTOR: No, you didn't.
CLARA: I said, shut up. The Doctor and Robin Hood locked up in a cellar. Is this seriously the best that you can do? You're determined to starve to death in here squabbling.
ROBIN: Well, I'll tell you one thing. I'd last a lot longer than this desiccated man-crone.
DOCTOR: Well, you know what? I think you'll find I have a certain genetic advantage. Oh!
(Clara has yanked on the chain attached to his wrist.)
CLARA: It is not a competition about who can die slower.
DOCTOR: It would definitely be me, though, wouldn't it?
CLARA: There was supposed to be a plan. Do either of you two have a plan?
DOCTOR: Yeah, of course I have a plan.
ROBIN: I too have a plan.
CLARA: Okay. Robin, you first.
DOCTOR: Why him?
CLARA: Doctor, shut up. Robin, your plan.
ROBIN: I am biding my time.
CLARA: Thank you, Prince of Thieves. Last of the Time Lords?
DOCTOR: Yes, I have a plan.
CLARA: Can you explain your plan without using the word sonic screwdriver? Because you might have forgotten the Sheriff of Nottingham has taken your sonic screwdriver, just saying. It's always the screwdriver.
DOCTOR: Okay, let, let, let, let's hear Robin's plan first.
CLARA: Oh, for God's sake.
(The door is unlocked.)
ROBIN: See? There was a guard. There was guard listening the whole time, I knew it. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
(The guard is a man with no teeth left, just rotted stumps.)
GUARD: The Sheriff himself commanded me to listen, to find out which of you is the true ringleader.
DOCTOR: Ah, so he can do the interrogating. Very wise.
ROBIN: Excellent. He will get nothing from me.
DOCTOR: No, no, no, no. no. He will get nothing from me, because interrogation, that's where I always turn the tables. You see, that's my plan.
ROBIN: Just hurry up and take me to him.
DOCTOR: No, no, chop-chop, come on.
(The guard unfastens Clara's chains.)
GUARD: Come on.
ROBIN: What are you doing?
DOCTOR: Don't be ridiculous!
(The door slams shut and is locked.)
(Night. Little John is holding the golden arrow. It goes from speaker to speaker.)
LITTLE JOHN: 'Tis a thing of beauty indeed.
WILL: And will feed a family for a twelvemonth when melted down.
TUCK: Tonight we rest. Tomorrow we must draw up plans to rescue Robin. We shall soon see how those Mechanicals feel about the taste of Nottingham steel. Lord, forgive me.
ALAN: Strange, though, is it not?
LITTLE JOHN: What?
ALAN: All this looting that the Sheriff is doing, and yet 'tis only ever gold that he takes. Pearls, rubies, all the precious jewels of the realm seem no consequence to him. Only gold.
(He hands the arrow to Tuck and picks up his lute.)
ALAN: (sings) Poor Robin and the stranger lay, In the dungeon all the live-long day. The Merry Men might pine away, Upon a Sherwood morning.
(Back at the castle, we watch artefacts dropping into a giant crucible. One of the knights opens the gate at the bottom and the molten metal pours out into an intricate mould, like a giant printed circuit.)
SHERIFF: Eat, my Lady, eat. Let it not be said that the Sheriff of Nottingham is a poor host.
(Clara is at the other end of the well-stocked table)
CLARA: I had a bag of crisps this morning, thanks.
SHERIFF: Your words are strange, fair one.
CLARA: Mmm, I should think they are.
SHERIFF: But I like you. You're refreshingly direct.
CLARA: You can take the girl out of Blackpool.
(The Sheriff holds up something oblong wrapped in cling film. Sandwiches? Then the spoon.)
SHERIFF: Taken from your friend's strange tunic. An intriguing gallimaufry. Including this wand. Evidently a thing of awesome power. Tell me, are you from beyond the stars?
CLARA: You're the one with the robot army, you tell me.
DOCTOR: I'm sorry?
ROBIN: No. Beat your breast. Moan. Groan as though twenty devils possessed your guts.
DOCTOR: What for?
ROBIN: So as to attract the attention of that gargoyle-faced guard.
DOCTOR: It's your plan. You moan.
ROBIN: No, no. No, it won't work.
ROBIN: Oh, because you're clearly more advanced in years and you have a sickly aspect to you.
DOCTOR: I have a what?
ROBIN: You're as pale as milk. It's the way with Scots. They're strangers to vegetables.
DOCTOR: I'm not moaning. You moan.
ROBIN: Fine. If you want something doing. (moans loudly.) Can I rely upon you to do the rest?
DOCTOR: Yes, yes, I know the drill.
(The guard speaks through the grill in the door.)
GUARD: What is this din?
DOCTOR: No business of yours, cur. (to Robin) Speak up. I can't hear you.
GUARD: What ails him?
DOCTOR: None of your business.
(The guard enters.)
GUARD: I said, what ails him?
DOCTOR: Well, if you must know, he's having a nervous breakdown.
GUARD: A what?
DOCTOR: He's like this whenever he's in any kind of danger. He just can't seem to cope. He gets so afraid. He goes into a kind of fit. I honestly believe that he may die of sheer fright, like some tiny, shivering little mouse. Oh, God, I think he's soiled himself.
GUARD: Let him die. It will save us the trouble of executing him.
DOCTOR: And what will happen to the reward?
DOCTOR: Oh, God, I shouldn't have said that.
GUARD: Tell me!
DOCTOR: He carries a vital message. The Prince has promised a bounty.
GUARD: A big one?
DOCTOR: An enormous one.
(Robin mumbles. The guard leans close to him.)
GUARD: What's that? Say again?
ROBIN: Come closer. Your breath stinks like a serpent, has anyone ever told you that?
(Robin gives the guard a Glasgow kiss. That is, he head-butts him, knocking him out cold.)
ROBIN: Soiled myself?
DOCTOR: Did you? That's getting into character. Okay, keys.
ROBIN: I'll get them.
DOCTOR: No, no. I'll get them.
ROBIN: I'll get them. I'll get them.
DOCTOR: I'm fine, no, no worries. I've got them!
ROBIN: I've got them! I'll get
(The two pairs of competing feet end up kicking the guard's keys down the drain. Splosh.)
DOCTOR: Well, there is a bright side.
ROBIN: Which is?
DOCTOR: Clara didn't see that.
SHERIFF: But enough of tawdry matters. Let us talk of softer, sweeter things.
(He uses his dagger to spear a sweetmeat.)
CLARA: Ah. Good, yes, I was hoping we'd get round to that.
SHERIFF: You were?
CLARA: Mmm. For I have known I was destined to draw the eye of a great and powerful man for a long time. Ever since I saw those mysterious lights in the sky.
SHERIFF: You saw them too?
CLARA: And those strange mechanical men, with their promises.
SHERIFF: I too have experienced this.
CLARA: Really? Well, I would never have guessed. Tell me your story.
SHERIFF: Tell me yours.
CLARA: Oh, no, no, no, no. But you have to go first.
SHERIFF: Why so?
CLARA: Because great men always precede.
SHERIFF: You have a point.
CLARA: Your story, then.
SHERIFF: Once upon a time, there was a brave and clever and handsome man.
CLARA: I can almost picture him. I don't even have to close my eyes.
SHERIFF: Unappreciated by his royal master.
CLARA: Prince John?
SHERIFF: The very same.
CLARA: Then came the lights in the sky, and everything changed.
SHERIFF: The skyship came to Earth in a fury of fire.
CLARA: I'd almost call it a crash. I remember it well.
SHERIFF: A craft from the heavenly spheres, bedight with twinkling lights and miracles beyond imagining. The most beautiful thing the brave and handsome man had ever seen.
CLARA: And I suppose the mechanical men saw you as their natural leader?
SHERIFF: It was I and I alone to whom the mechanical men then imparted their secrets. Shortly, I shall be the most powerful man in the realm. King in all but name, for Nottingham is not enough.
CLARA: It isn't?
SHERIFF: After this, Derby.
SHERIFF: Then Lincoln. And after Lincoln
(The Sheriff stabs his dagger into the table.)
SHERIFF: The world!
(Robin is carrying the block with the loop their chains are running through.)
ROBIN: Now what?
DOCTOR: First, a blacksmith's forge.
ROBIN: So as to remove our chains?
DOCTOR: No. So I can knock up an ornamental plant stand. Of course it's so we can get rid of our chains. I don't want to be manacled to you all night.
DOCTOR: Oh, no. Please, don't do that.
ROBIN: Ornamental plant stand.
DOCTOR: It's not even that funny.
ROBIN: You're an amusing fellow, Doctor.
DOCTOR: Oh, don't. Can you just stop! You'll give yourself a hernia.
CLARA: So what are you hanging around here for, then, Your Majesty? Why are you bothering to squeeze pips out of peasants if you've got a skyship on stand-by?
SHERIFF: Enough questions. I'm impatient to hear your story.
CLARA: Oh, but I do not have one. I was lying.
CLARA: Yeah. People are so much better at sharing information if they think the other person has already got it.
SHERIFF: Oh, that's very clever.
CLARA: Thank you.
SHERIFF: You'll do very well.
CLARA: For what?
SHERIFF: Doesn't every king require a consort?
(The sheriff leans over Clara for a kiss, and she manages to duck out.)
CLARA: Right, you do that again and you'll regret that.
(The Doctor and Robin come up some steps free of their chains. The Doctor spots an interesting sight - a metal doorway. He goes through it. The area is long, spartan and metal with a glowing hemisphere on a console at the end.)
DOCTOR: At last. Something real. No more fairy tales.
ROBIN: What is this place?
DOCTOR: A spaceship. More twenty ninth century than twelfth. Data banks, data banks, data banks. Where was this ship headed?
(The computer screen gives all the details.)
DOCTOR: The Promised Land again. Like the Half-Faced Man, but more sophisticated. It disguised itself as a twelfth century castle.
(Graphic shows the spaceship landing pointy bit upwards and pretending to be the central keep.)
DOCTOR: It merges into the culture, tries to keep a low profile, so no one notices. That explains the robot knights. But the engines. The engines are damaged. They're leaking radiation into the local atmosphere, creating a temporary climate of staggering benevolence.
ROBIN: I beg pardon?
DOCTOR: I told you. It's too sunny. It's too green. And there is even an evil sheriff to oppress the locals. This explains everything, even you.
ROBIN: It does?
DOCTOR: Well, what does every oppressed peasant workforce need? The illusion of hope. Some silly story to get them through the day, lull them into docility, and keep them working. Ship's data banks. Full of every myth and legend you could hope for, including Robin Hood.
(The data bank displays various book illustrations and a photograph shows Robin Hood as played by Patrick Troughton.)
DOCTOR: Isn't it time you came clean with me? You're not real and you know it. Look at you. Perfect eyes, perfect teeth. Nobody has a jawline like that. You're as much a part of what is happening here as the Sheriff and his metal knights. You're a robot.
ROBIN: You dare to accuse me of collusion with that villain, the Sheriff?
DOCTOR: I dare.
ROBIN: You false-tongued knave. I should have skewered you when I had the chance.
DOCTOR: I would like to see you try.
(The metal door is blown inwards by lasers.)
DOCTOR: Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
(The Sheriff enters with Clara and knights.)
SHERIFF: Surrender, outlaw.
DOCTOR: Very good.
SHERIFF: Kill him. Kill Robin Hood.
DOCTOR: You can drop all that stuff now, Sheriff.
DOCTOR: He is not what you think he is. This is all play-acting.
CLARA: We can't just let them kill him!
DOCTOR: You're not fooling anyone, Sheriff.
(A blast from a knight knocks Robin off his feet. Clara gets between him and the attacker. Robin grabs her around the waist and they back up to a window.)
CLARA: What the hell are you doing?
(Robin falls backwards through the window, taking Clara with him.)
DOCTOR: No! Clara!
(Robin and Clara land in the moat. The full moon is reflected in the rippling water.)
SHERIFF: Yeah, sorry about the girl. Such a pretty thing. What a queen she would have made.
(The Sheriff turns away. The Doctor sees Robin climb out of the other side of the moat with Clara in his arms.)
DOCTOR: Stop pretending. You and your fancy robots. I get it. I understand.
SHERIFF: Oh, so you too know my plans?
DOCTOR: You and your robots plundering the surrounding countryside for all it's worth. Gold. Gold. Of course. Gold. You are creating a matrix of gold to repair the engine circuitry.
SHERIFF: This is the scheme the Mechanicals have devised. Soon this skyship will depart. Destination, London. There I will obliterate the King and take my rightful place as ruler of this sceptred isle.
DOCTOR: It won't work. There's not a chance. I've seen the instruments. There's been too much damage. You are stoking up a gigantic bomb!
(A knight knocks the Doctor out.)
KNIGHT [OC]: Engine capacity at forty eight percent.
(Knights carry a gold circuit board away. The Doctor wakes up.)
KNIGHT [OC]: Engine capacity at forty eight percent.
DOCTOR: It's not enough. That's not enough. It'll never make orbit.
(Amongst the wails and groans of downtrodden humanity there is a mechanical whumph!)
DOCTOR: That's the engines, building in power. Stupid, stupid Sheriff.
(He strains at the chains holding his wrists behind his back.)
DOCTOR: Argh! Go on, give! Give, you stupid things. What are you looking at?
(It is Quayle's ward.)
(Next morning, Clara wakes to the sight of Robin's face.)
ROBIN: The time for games is over.
QUAYLES WARD: I think I understand you. The Sheriff's using the gold to replace something.
DOCTOR: That's the principle. But he's a moron. If he tries to fly this ship, it'll explode and wipe out half the country. What we need is a little riot. Time to reflect on lasers and gold. Spread the word.
(Quayle's ward frees the Doctor's hands.)
ROBIN: You will tell me everything this Doctor knows about Robin Hood and his Merry Men.
CLARA: What is this? Why are you interrogating me?
ROBIN: And then, you will tell me exactly who this Doctor is and what are his plans.
KNIGHT: You are fit for labour. Stand aside while this peasant unit is freed.
DOCTOR: I'm afraid you're a little late.
DOCTOR: I'm already free!
(The knight powers up his violet beam. The Doctor reflects it with a golden plate and it hits the wall. Quayle's ward produces another plate and this time it is bounced straight back at the knight. It's head explodes. More knights come, but all the workers have plates for shields.)
(The Sheriff is annotating a map of England.)
SHERIFF: Mine, mine, mine.
KNIGHT: Engine capacity at seventy five percent.
(There is a beeping noise. The Sheriff pushes the papers aside to reveal a monitor in the wooden table. He watches the carnage that is taking place.)
SHERIFF: 'Ods blood! Who will rid me of this turbulent Doctor?
(He punches a knight. It hurts.)
(People are screaming and dying, but so are the knights.)
DOCTOR: Everyone, the last one!
(It is surrounded by reflective surfaces. Its violet energy beam bounces around a lot until if finally returns to sender, multiplied several times. KaBOOM! Celebrations.)
DOCTOR: Out, out! Everyone, quickly, get out. Quickly!
QUAYLES WARD: You've saved us all, clever one.
(She kissees him on the cheek.)
QUAYLES WARD: Thank you.
KNIGHT: Engine capacity at eighty two percent.
SHERIFF: You are indeed an ingenious fellow, Doctor. But do you really think your peasants' revolt can stop me?
DOCTOR: I rather think you're the revolting one around here. I'm bantering. I'm bantering. Listen to me. You don't have enough gold content to seal the engine breach. If you try and take off, you'll wipe out half of England.
SHERIFF: Liar! From my sky vessel, I shall rule omnipotent.
DOCTOR: You pudding-headed primitive, shut down the engines. What you're doing will alter the course of history.
SHERIFF: I sincerely hope so, or I wouldn't be bothering.
(The Sheriff throws a knight's head into the crucible.)
DOCTOR: Listen to me. It doesn't have to end like this. Shut it all down, return Clara to me and I'll do what I can.
SHERIFF: I don't have Clara.
DOCTOR: Robin's one of yours.
SHERIFF: What did you say?
DOCTOR: He's one of your tin-headed puppets, just like these brutes here.
SHERIFF: Robin Hood is not one of mine.
DOCTOR: Of course he is. He's a robot, created by your mechanical mates.
SHERIFF: Why would they do that?
DOCTOR: To pacify the locals, give them false hope. He's the opiate of the masses.
SHERIFF: Why would we create an enemy to fight us? What sense would that make? That would be a terrible idea.
DOCTOR: Yes! Yes, it would. Wouldn't it? Yes, that would be a rubbish idea. Why would you do that? But he can't be. He's not real. He's a legend!
ROBIN: Too kind! And this legend does not come alone.
(Robin is up in the gallery.)
(Robin sticks his dagger into a wall hanging and slides down with Clara holding on to him.)
ROBIN: You all right?
CLARA: Hell, yeah.
ROBIN: Good. My men have taken the castle.
ROBIN: Now I'm going to take you.
SHERIFF: This one's all mine.
(The two knights guarding the Sheriff are deactivated by the amulet hanging around his neck.)
SHERIFF: What do you say, outlaw? A final reckoning?
ROBIN: Oh, yes.
(Robin and the Sheriff prepare to sword-fight.)
DOCTOR: Are you okay?
CLARA: Fine, yeah.
DOCTOR: Good. We don't have long.
(The keep is rumbling and shaking.)
SHERIFF: I shall avenge every slight, outlaw.
DOCTOR: I know. The whole castle's about to blow.
SHERIFF: You have long been a thorn in my side.
ROBIN: Well, everyone should have a hobby. Mine's annoying you.
SHERIFF: I'll have you boiled in oil at the castle by sunset.
ROBIN: Can we make it a little earlier? Cos that's a little past my bedtime.
(Robin cuts a rope and flies on it up to a cross-beam.)
SHERIFF: I'm too much for you, outlaw. The first of a new breed. Half man, half engine.
(The Sheriff also does the rope thing and they continue the fight up on the beam.)
SHERIFF: Never ageing. Never tiring.
ROBIN: Are you still talking?
(The Sheriff cuts Robin's arm and he drops his sword. Then he opens his arms just like the Doctor did at the stream.)
SHERIFF: Bow down before your new king, you prince of knaves!
(The Sheriff comes at Robin, who turns so they are back to back then kicks the back of the Sheriff's knee.)
(The Sheriff falls into the crucible. Robin descends to the ground by rope again.)
ROBIN: Sorry. Was that, er, was that showing off?
CLARA: That was amazing.
(The castle shakes. Masonry starts to fall.)
DOCTOR: Run! Come on, run!
(We leave a pair of gold-covered hands sticking out of the crucible.)
(From across the moat, we watch masonry fall and the spaceship take off.)
DOCTOR: It's never going to make it. Not enough gold. It'll never make it into orbit. Where is it? Where did it go?
CLARA: Where did what go?
DOCTOR: The golden arrow.
DOCTOR: You took it?
TUCK: Of course we did. We're robbers.
DOCTORY: I love you boys.
CLARA: Doctor, what are you suggesting?
DOCTOR: Golden arrow. It might just be enough gold content to get the ship into orbit and out of harm's way.
(The Doctor offers Robin the bow and arrow.)
ROBIN: No, it has to be you. My arm is injured.
(But the Doctor can't even get the arrow onto the bowstring.)
CLARA: You're good at this. I saw you. You won the tournament.
DOCTOR: I cheated. I made a special arrow with a homing device.
CLARA: Oh, brilliant. Right, let me have a go.
DOCTOR: You? You do Tae Kwon Do. That's not the same thing as this.
ROBIN: My friends. Surely we can manage it together?
KNIGHT: Engine capacity at eighty three percent. Insufficient power to achieve escape velocity.
(Sitting on the ground, the Doctor and Clara hold each end of the bow while Robin braces it with his foot. He pulls back the bowstring and releases the golden arrow. It hits the spaceship directly in the middle of a roundel on an engine.)
KNIGHT: Maximum power surge.
(The spaceship blasts into orbit.)
KNIGHT: Engines critical. Engines critical. Engines crit
(KaBOOM! The watching crowd cheers.)
ALAN: (sings) One awful day in Nottingham, Brave Robin Hood was in a jam. The arrow flew it true
(His lute is snatched from him.)
WILL: Give it a rest, Alan.
ALAN: Give me my lute!
CLARA: Still not keen on the laughing thing?
DOCTOR: No, no, no, no.
(Clara laughs. Robin laughs.)
[By a stream]
(Robin gives Clara a very personal archery lesson.)
CLARA: Woo-hoo! I'm going to miss you. You're very naughty.
ROBIN: Oh, I know. Whoever he is, he is a very lucky man.
CLARA: Marian is very lucky, too.
ROBIN: I fear not.
CLARA: Don't give up. Not ever. Not for one single day.
(She kisses his cheek.)
CLARA: Be safe, if you can be. But always be amazing.
CLARA: Goodbye, Robin Hood.
ROBIN: Goodbye, Clara Oswald.
(Clara winks at him, then goes into the Tardis.)
ROBIN: So, is it true, Doctor?
DOCTOR: Is what true?
ROBIN: That in the future I am forgotten as a real man? I am but a legend?
DOCTOR: I'm afraid it is.
ROBIN: Hmm. Good. History is a burden. Stories can make us fly.
DOCTOR: I'm still having a little trouble believing yours, I'm afraid.
ROBIN: Is it so hard to credit? That a man born into wealth and privilege should find the plight of the oppressed and weak too much to bear...
ROBIN: Until one night he is moved to steal a Tardis? Fly among the stars, fighting the good fight. Clara told me your stories.
DOCTOR: She should not have told you any of that.
ROBIN: Well. Well, once the story started, she could hardly stop herself. You are her hero, I think.
DOCTOR: I'm not a hero.
ROBIN: Well, neither am I. But if we both keep pretending to be. Ha-ha! Perhaps others will be heroes in our name. Perhaps we will both be stories. And may those stories never end.
(They shake hands.)
ROBIN: Goodbye, Doctor, Time Lord of Gallifrey.
DOCTOR: Goodbye, Robin Hood, Earl of Loxley.
ROBIN: And remember, Doctor. I'm just as real as you are.
CLARA: Admit it. You like him.
DOCTOR: Well, I'm leaving him a present, aren't I?
[By a stream]
((Robin looks at a woman's portrait in a locket around his neck, as the Tardis dematerialises to reveal that same young woman has been standing behind it.)
QUAYLES WARD: Robin? I've found you at last.
ROBIN: Marian? Thank you. Thank you, Doctor!
(He fires an arrow in the air, it comes to rest I know not where.)
<Back to the episode listing
Doctor Who and related marks are trademarks of BBC . Copyright © 1963, Present. The web pages on this site are for educational and entertainment purposes only. All other copyrights property of their respective holders.