TUCK. Ay, ay, soon said; But ere he be, many will lie dead, Except it be by sleight.

DON. Ay, there, there, Friar.

TUCK. Give me, my lord, your execution. The widow Scarlet's daughter, lovely Jenny, Loves, and is belov'd of Much, the miller's son. If I can get the girl to go with me, Disguis'd in habit like a pedlar's mort,[203] I'll serve this execution, on my life, And single out a time alone to take Robin, that often careless walks alone. Why, answer not; remember what I said: Yonder, I see, comes Jenny, that fair maid. If we agree, then back me soon with aid.

Enter JENNY with a fardel.

PRIOR. Tuck, if thou do it—

DON. Pray, you do not talk: As we were strangers let us careless walk.

JEN. Now to the green wood wend I, God me speed.

TUCK. Amen, fair maid, and send thee, in thy need, Much, that is born to do thee much good deed.

JEN. Are you there, Friar? nay then, i'faith, we have it.

TUCK. What, wench? my love?

JEN. Ay, gi't me when I crave it.

TUCK. Unask'd I offer; prythee, sweet girl, take it.

JEN. Gifts stink with proffer: foh! Friar, I forsake it.

TUCK. I will be kind.

JEN. Will not your kindness kill her?

TUCK. With love?

JEN. You cog.

TUCK. Tut, girl, I am no miller: Hear in your ear.

DON. The Friar courts her. [Standing behind.

PRIOR. Tush, let them alone; He is our Lady's Chaplain, but serves Joan.

DON. Then, from the Friar's fault, perchance, it may be The proverb grew, Joan's taken for my lady.

PRIOR. Peace, good Sir Doncaster, list to the end.

JEN. But mean ye faith and troth? shall I go wi' ye?

TUCK. Upon my faith, I do intend good faith.

JEN. And shall I have the pins and laces too, If I bear a pedlar's pack with you?

TUCK. As I am holy Friar, Jenny, thou shalt.

JEN. Well, there's my hand; see, Friar, you do not halt.

TUCK. Go but before into the miry mead, And keep the path that doth to Farnsfield lead; I'll into Southwell and buy all the knacks, That shall fit both of us for pedlar's packs.

JEN. Who be they two that yonder walk, I pray?

TUCK. Jenny, I know not: be they what they may, Scare not for them; prythee, do not stay, But make some speed, that we were gone away.

JEN. Well, Friar, I trust you that we go to Sherwood.

TUCK. Ay, by my beads, and unto Robin Hood.

JEN. Make speed, good Friar.

TUCK. Jenny, do not fear. [Exit JENNY. Lord Prior, now you hear, As much as I. Get me two pedlar's packs, Points, laces, looking-glasses, pins and knacks; And let Sir Doncaster with some wight lads Follow us close; and, ere these forty hours, Upon my life Earl Robert shall be ours.

PRIOR. Thou shalt have anything, my dearest Friar; And in amends I'll make thee my sub-prior. Come, good Sir Doncaster, and if we thrive, We'll frolic with the nuns of Leeds, belive.[204]

[Exeunt.

Enter FITZWATER, like an old man.

FITZ. Well did he write, and mickle did he know, That said this world's felicity was woe, Which greater states can hardly undergo. Whilom Fitzwater, in fair England's court, Possess'd felicity and happy state, And in his hall blithe fortune kept her sport, Which glee one hour of woe did ruinate. Fitzwater once had castles, towns, and towers, Fair gardens, orchards, and delightful bowers; But now nor garden, orchard, town, nor tower, Hath poor Fitzwater left within his power. Only wide walks are left me in the world, Which these stiff limbs will hardly let me tread; And when I sleep, heaven's glorious canopy Me and my mossy couch doth overspread. Of this injurious John cannot bereave me; The air and earth he (while I live) must leave me; But from the English air and earth, poor man, His tyranny hath ruthless thee exiled. Yet e'er I leave it, I'll do what I can To see Matilda, my fair luckless child.

[Curtains open:—ROBIN HOOD sleeps on a green bank, and MARIAN strewing flowers on him.

And in good time, see where my comfort stands, And by her lies dejected Huntington. Look how my flow'r holds flowers in her hands, And flings those sweets upon my sleeping son. I'll close mine eyes as if I wanted sight, That I may see the end of their delight. [Goes knocking with his staff.

MAR. What aged man art thou? or by what chance Cam'st thou thus far into the wayless wood?

FITZ. Widow or wife, or maiden if thou be, Lend me thy hand; thou seest I cannot see: Blessing betide thee, little feel'st thou want; With me, good child, food is both hard and scant. These smooth even veins assure me he is kind, Whate'er he be, my girl, that thee doth find. I, poor and old, am reft of all earth's good, And desperately am crept into this wood To seek the poor man's patron, Robin Hood.

MAR. And thou art welcome: welcome, aged man, Ay, ten times welcome to Maid Marian. Sit down, old father, sit, and call me daughter. O God, how like he looks to old Fitzwater! [Runs in.

FITZ. Is my Matilda call'd Maid Marian? I wonder why her name is changed thus.

[MARIAN brings wine, meat.

MAR. Here's wine to cheer thy heart; drink, aged man: There's ven'son and a knife, here's manchet[205] fine: Drink, good old man, I pray you, drink more wine. My Robin stirs; I must sing him asleep.

ROB. H. Nay, you have wak'd me, Marian, with your talk. What man is that's come within our walk?

MAR. An aged man, a silly, sightless man, Near pin'd with hunger: see, how fast he eats.

ROB. H. Much good may't do him: never is good meat Ill-spent on such a stomach. Father, proface;[206] To Robin Hood thou art a welcome man.

FITZ. I thank you, master. Are you Robin Hood?

ROB. H. Father, I am.

FITZ. God give your soul much good For this good meat Maid Marian hath given me. But hear me, master; can you tell me news, Where fair Matilda is, Fitzwater's daughter?

ROB. H. Why, here she is; this Marian is she.

FITZ. Why did she change her name?

ROB. H. What's that to thee?

FITZ. Yes, I could weep for grief that it is so, But that my tears are all dried up with woe.

ROB. H. Why, she is called Maid Marian, honest friend, Because she lives a spotless maiden life; And shall, till Robin's outlaw life have end, That he may lawfully take her to wife; Which, if King Richard come, will not be long, For in his hand is power to right our wrong.

FITZ. If it be thus, I joy in her name's change: So pure love in these times is very strange.

MAR. Robin, I think it is my aged father. [Aside.

ROB. H. Tell me, old man, tell me in courtesy, Are you no other than you seem to be?

FITZ. I am a wretched aged man, you see, If you will do me aught for charity: Further than this, sweet, do not question me.

ROB. H. You shall have your desire. But what be these?

_Enter_ FRIAR TUCK _and_ JENNY_, like pedlars, singing.

What lack ye? what lack ye? What is it you will buy? Any points, pins or laces, Any laces, points or pins? Fine gloves, fine glasses, Any busks or masks? Or any other pretty things? Come, cheap for love, or buy for money. Any coney, coney-skins? For laces, points or pins? Fair maids, come choose or buy. I have pretty poking-sticks,[207] And many other tricks, Come, choose for love, or buy for money_.

ROB. H. Pedlar, I prythee set thy pack down here: Marian shall buy, if thou be not too dear.

TUCK. Jenny, unto thy mistress show thy pack. Master, for you I have a pretty knack, From far I brought, please you see to the same.

[Exeunt ROBIN HOOD, MARIAN, and FITZWATER.

Enter SIR DONCASTER and others, weaponed.[208]

FRIAR. Sir Doncaster, are not we pedlar-like?

DON. Yes, passing fit; and yonder is the bower. I doubt not we shall have him in our power.

FRIAR. You and your company were best stand close.

DON. What shall the watchword be to bring us forth?

FRIAR. Take it, I pray, though it be much more worth: When I speak that aloud, be sure I serve The execution presently on him.

DON. Friar, look to't.

FRIAR. Now, Jenny, to your song. [Sings.

Enter MARIAN, ROBIN.

MAR. Pedlar, what pretty toys have you to sell?

FRIAR. Jenny, unto your mistress show your ware.

MAR. Come in, good woman. [Exeunt.

FRIAR. Master, look here, And God give ear, So mote I the[209], To her and me, If ever we, Robin, to thee, That art so free. Mean treachery.

ROB. H. On, pedlar, to thy pack; If thou love me, my love thou shalt not lack.

FRIAR. Master, in brief, There is a thief, That seeks your grief. God send relief To you in need. For a foul deed, If not with speed You take good heed, There is decreed. In yonder brake There lies a snake, That means to take Out of this wood The yeoman good, Call'd Robin Hood.

ROB. H. Pedlar, I prythee be more plain. What brake? what snake? what trap? what train?

FRIAR. Robin, I am a holy friar, Sent by the Prior, Who did me hire, For to conspire Thy endless woe And overthrow: But thou shalt know, I am the man Whom Little John From Nottingham Desir'd to be A clerk to thee; For he to me Said thou wert free, And I did see Thy honesty, From gallow-tree When thou didst free Scathlock and Scarlet certainly[210].

ROB. H. Why, then, it seems that thou art Friar Tuck.

FRIAR. Master, I am.

ROB. H. I pray thee, Friar, say, What treachery is meant to me this day?

FRIAR. First wind your horn; then draw your sword. [ROBIN HOOD winds his horn. For I have given a friar's word, To take your body prisoner, And yield you to Sir Doncaster, The envious priest of Hothersfield, Whose power your bushy wood doth shield; But I will die ere you shall yield.

Enter LITTLE JOHN, &c.

And sith your yeomen do appear, I'll give the watchword without fear. Take it, I pray thee, though it be more worth.

Rush in SIR DONCASTER with his crew.

DON. Smite down! lay hold on outlaw'd Huntington!

LIT. JOHN. Soft, hot-spurr'd priest, 'tis not so quickly done.

DON. Now, out alas! the friar and the maid Have to false thieves Sir Doncaster betray'd.

[Exeunt omnes.[211]



ACT IV., SCENE 1.

Enter JOHN crowned, QUEEN ELINOR, CHESTER, SALISBURY, LORD PRIOR. Sit down all. WARMAN stands.

JOHN. As God's vicegerent, John ascends this throne, His head impal'd with England's diadem,[212] And in his hand the awful rod of rule, Giving the humble place of excellence, And to the low earth casting down the proud.

QUEEN. Such upright rule is in each realm allow'd.

JOHN. Chester, you once were Ely's open friend, And yet are doubtful whether he deserve A public trial for his private wrongs.

CHES. I still am doubtful whether it be fit To punish private faults with public shame In such a person as Lord Ely is.

PRIOR. Yes, honourable Chester, more it fits To make apparent sins of mighty men, And on their persons sharply to correct A little fault, a very small defect, Than on the poor to practise chastisement: For if a poor man die, or suffer shame, Only the poor and vile respect the same; But if the mighty fall, fear then besets The proud heart of the mighty ones, his mates: They think the world is garnished with nets, And traps ordained to entrap their states; Which fear in them begets a fear of ill, And makes them good, contrary to their will.

JOHN. Your lordship hath said right. Lord Salisbury, Is not your mind as ours concerning Ely?

SAL. I judge him worthy of reproof and shame.

JOHN. Warman, bring forth your prisoner, Ely, the chancellor; And with him bring the seal that he detains. Warman, why goest thou not?

WAR. Be good to me, my lord.

JOHN. What hast thou done?

WAR. Speak for me, my Lord Prior: All my good lords entreat his grace for me. Ely, my lord—

JOHN. Why, where is Ely, Warman?

WAR. Fled to-day: this misty morning he is fled away.

JOHN. O Judas! whom nor friend nor foe may trust, Think'st thou with tears and plaints to answer this? Do I not know thy heart? do I not know That bribes have purchas'd Ely this escape? Never make antic faces, never bend With feigned humblesse thy still crouching knee, But with fix'd eyes unto thy doom attend. Villain! I'll plague thee for abusing me. Go hence; and henceforth never set thy foot In house or field thou didst this day possess. Mark what I say: advise thee to look to't, Or else, be sure, thou diest remediless. Nor from those houses see that thou receive So much as shall sustain thee for an hour, But as thou art, go where thou canst; get friends, And he that feeds thee be mine enemy.

WAR. O my good lord!

JOHN. Thou thy good lord betrayedst, And all the world for money thou wilt sell.

WAR. What says the queen?

QUEEN. Why, thus I say: Betray thy master, thou wilt all betray.

WAR. My Lords of Chester and of Salisbury!

BOTH. Speak not to us: all traitors we defy.

WAR. Good my Lord Prior!

PRIOR. Alas! what can I do?

WAR. Then I defy the world! yet I desire Your grace would read this supplication.

[JOHN reads.

JOHN. I thought as much: but, Warman, dost thou think There is one moving line to mercy here? I tell thee, no; therefore away, away! A shameful death follows thy longer stay.

WAR. O poor, poor man! Of miserable miserablest wretch I am. [Exit.

JOHN. Confusion be thy guide! a baser slave Earth cannot bear: plagues follow him, I crave. Can any tell me if my Lord of York Be able to sit up?

QUEEN. The Archbishop's grace Was reasonable well even now, good son.

SAL. And he desir'd me that I should desire Your majesty to send unto his grace, If any matter did import his presence.

JOHN. We will ourselves step in and visit him. Mother and my good lords, will you attend us?

PRIOR. I gladly will attend your majesty.

JOHN. Now, good lord, help us! When I said good lords, I meant not you, Lord Prior: lord I know you are, But good, God knows, you never mean to be.

[Exeunt JOHN, QUEEN, CHESTER, SALISBURY.

PRIOR. John is incens'd; and very much, I doubt, That villain Warman hath accused me About the 'scape of Ely. Well, suppose he have, What's that to me? I am a clergyman, And all his power, if he all extend, Cannot prevail against my holy order. But the Archbishop's grace is now his friend, And may, perchance, attempt to do me ill.

Enter a SERVING-MAN.

What news with you, sir?

SERV.-MAN. Even heavy news, my lord; for the lightning's[213] fire, Falling in manner of a firedrake[214] Upon a barn of yours, hath burnt six barns, And not a strike of corn reserv'd from dust. No hand could save it, yet ten thousand hands Laboured their best, though none for love of you; For every tongue with bitter cursing bann'd Your lordship, as the viper of the land.

PRIOR. What meant the villains?

SERV.-MAN. Thus and thus they cried: Upon this churl, this hoarder-up of corn, This spoiler of the Earl of Huntington, This lust-defiled, merciless, false prior, Heaven raineth vengeance down in shape of fire. Old wives, that scarce could with their crutches creep, And little babes, that newly learn'd to speak, Men masterless, that thorough want did weep, All in one voice, with a confused cry, In execrations bann'd you bitterly: Plague follow plague, they cry: he hath undone The good Lord Robert, Earl of Huntington. And then—

PRIOR.[215] What then, thou villain? Get thee from my sight! They that wish plagues, plagues will upon them light.

Enter another SERVANT.

PRIOR. What are your tidings?

SERV. The convent of St Mary's are agreed, And have elected in your lordship's place Old father Jerome, who is stall'd Lord Prior By the new Archbishop.

PRIOR. Of York, thou mean'st? A vengeance on him! he is my hope's foe.

Enter a HERALD.

HER. Gilbert de Hood, late Prior of Saint Mary's, Our sovereign John commandeth thee by me, That presently thou leave this blessed land, Defiled with the burthen of thy sin. All thy goods temporal and spiritual, With free consent of Hubert Lord [of] York, Primate of England and thy ordinary, He hath suspended, and vowed by heaven To hang thee up, if thou depart not hence Without delaying or more question. And that he hath good reason for the same, He sends this writing 'firm'd with Warman's hand, And comes himself; whose presence if thou stay, I fear this sun will see thy dying day.

PRIOR. O, Warman hath betray'd me! woe is me!

Enter JOHN, QUEEN, CHESTER, SALISBURY.

JOHN. Hence with that Prior! sirrah, do not speak: My eyes are full of wrath, my heart of wreak.[216] Let Leicester come: his haught heart, I am sure, Will check the kingly course we undertake.

[Exeunt cum PRIOR.

Enter LEICESTER, drum and ancient.

JOHN. Welcome from war, thrice noble Earl of Leicester, Unto our court: welcome, most valiant earl.

LEI. Your court in England, and King Richard gone! A king in England, and the king from home! This sight and salutations are so strange, That what I should I know not how to speak.

JOHN. What would you say? speak boldly, we entreat.

LEI. It is not fear, but wonder, bars my speech. I muse to see a mother and a queen, Two peers so great as Salisbury and Chester, Sit and support proud usurpation, And see King Richard's crown worn by Earl John.

QUEEN. He sits as viceroy and a[s] substitute.

CHES. He must and shall resign, when Richard comes.

SAL. Chester, he will, without your must and shall.

LEI. Whether he will or no, he shall resign.

JOHN. You know your own will, Leicester, but not mine.

LEI. Tell me among ye, where is reverend Ely, Left by our dread king as his deputy?

JOHN. Banish'd he is, as proud usurpers should.

LEI. Pride then, belike, was enemy to pride: Ambition in yourself his state envied. Where is Fitzwater, that old honour'd lord?

JOHN. Dishonour'd and exil'd, as Ely is.

LEI. Exil'd he may be, but dishonour'd never! He was a fearless soldier and a virtuous scholar. But where is Huntington, that noble youth?

CHES. Undone by riot.

LEI. Ah! the greater ruth.

JOHN. Leicester, you question more than doth become you. On to the purpose, why you come to us.

LEI. I come to Ely and to all the state, Sent by the king, who three times sent before To have his ransom brought to Austria: And if you be elected deputy, Do as you ought, and send the ransom-money.

JOHN. Leicester, you see I am no deputy; And Richard's ransom if you do require, Thus we make answer: Richard is a king, In Cyprus, Acon, Acre, and rich Palestine. To get those kingdoms England lent him men, And many a million of her substance spent, The very entrails of her womb were rent: No plough but paid a share, no needy hand, But from his poor estate of penury Unto his voyage offer'd more than mites, And more, poor souls, than they had might to spare. Yet were they joyful; for still flying news— And lying I perceive them now to be— Came of King Richard's glorious victories, His conquest of the Soldan,[217] and such tales As blew them up with hope, when he return'd, He would have scatter'd gold about the streets.

LEI. Do princes fight for gold? O leaden thought! Your father knew that honour was the aim Kings level at. By sweet St John, I swear, You urge me so, that I cannot forbear. What do you tell of money lent the king, When first he went into this holy war, As if he had extorted from the poor, When you, the queen, and all that hear me speak, Know with what zeal the people gave their goods. Old wives took silver buckles from their belts; Young maids the gilt pins that tuck'd up their trains; Children their pretty whistles from their necks, And every man what he did most esteem, Crying to soldiers, "Wear these gifts of ours." This proves that Richard had no need to wrong, Or force the people, that with willing hearts Gave more than was desir'd. And where you say, You [do] guess Richard's victories but lies, I swear he wan rich Cyprus with his sword; And thence, more glorious than the guide of Greece, That brought so huge a fleet to Tenedos, He sail'd along the Mediterran sea, Where on a sunbright morning he did meet The warlike Soldan's[218] well-prepared fleet. O, still, methinks, I see King Richard stand In his gilt armour stain'd with Pagan's blood, Upon a galley's prow, like war's fierce god, And on his crest a crucifix of gold! O, that day's honour can be never told! Six times six several brigantines he boarded, And in the greedy waves flung wounded Turks; And three times thrice the winged galley's banks (Wherein the Soldan's son was admiral) In his own person royal Richard smooth'd, And left no heathen hand to be upheav'd Against the Christian soldiers.

JOHN. Leicester, so? Did he all this?

LEI. Ay, by God he did, And more than this: nay, jest [not] at it, John; I swear he did, by Leicester's faith he did, And made the green sea red with Pagan blood, Leading to Joppa glorious victory, And following fear, that fled unto the foe.

JOHN. All this he did! perchance all this was so!

LEI. Holy God, help me! soldiers, come away! This carpet-knight[219] sits carping at our scars, And jests at those most glorious, well-fought wars.

JOHN. Leicester, you are too hot: stay; go not yet. Methinks, if Richard won those victories, The wealthy kingdoms he hath conquered May, better than poor England, pay his ransom. He left this realm, as a young orphan-maid, To Ely, the step-father of this state, That stripp'd the virgin to her very skin; And, Leicester, had not John more careful been Than Richard, At this hour England had not England been. Therefore, good warlike lord, take this in brief; We wish King Richard well, but can send no relief.

LEI. O, let not my heart break with inward grief!

JOHN. Yes, let it, Leicester: it is not amiss, That twenty such hearts break as your heart is.

LEI. Are you a mother? were you England's queen? Were Henry, Richard, Geoffery, your sons? All sons but Richard—sun of all those sons And can you let this little meteor, This ignis fatuus, this same wandering fire, This goblin of the night, this brand, this spark, Seem through a lanthorn greater than he is? By heaven, you do not well: by earth, you do not? Chester, nor you, nor you, Earl Salisbury; Ye do not, no, ye do not what ye should.

QUEEN. Were this bear loose, how he would tear our maws.

CHES. Pale death and vengeance dwell within his jaws.

SAL. But we can muzzle him, and bind his paws: If King John say we shall, we will indeed.

JOHN. Do, if you can.

LEI. It's well thou hast some fear. No, curs! ye have no teeth to bait this bear.[220] I will not bid mine ensign-bearer wave My tattered colours in this worthless air, Which your vile breaths vilely contaminate. Bearer,[221] thou'st been my ancient-bearer long, And borne up Leicester's bear in foreign lands; Yet now resign these colours to my hands, For I am full of grief and full of rage. John, look upon me: thus did Richard take The coward Austria's colours in his hand, And thus he cast them under Acon walls, And thus he trod them underneath his feet. Rich colours, how I wrong ye by this wrong! But I will right ye. Bear[er], take them again, And keep them ever, ever them maintain: We shall have use for them, I hope, ere long.

JOHN. Dar'st thou attempt this proudly in our sight?

LEI. What is't a subject dares, that I dare not?

SAL. Dare subjects dare, their sovereign being by?

LEI. O God, that my true sovereign were nigh!

QUEEN. Leicester, he is.

LEI. Madam, by God, you lie.

CHES. Unmanner'd man.

LEI. A plague of reverence, Where no regard is had of excellence. [Sound drum. But you will quite[222] me now: I hear your drums: Your principality hath stirr'd up men, And now you think to muzzle up this bear. Still they come nearer, but are not the near.

JOHN. What drums are these?

SAL. I think, some friends of yours Prepare a power to resist this wrong.

LEI. Let them prepare, for Leicester is prepar'd, And thus he wooes his willing men to fight. Soldiers,[223] ye see King Richard's open wrong; Richard, that led ye to the glorious East, And made ye tread upon the blessed land, Where he, that brought all Christians blessedness, Was born, lived, wrought his miracles, and died, From death arose, and then to heaven ascended; Whose true religious faith ye have defended. Ye fought, and Richard taught ye how to fight Against profane men, following Mahomet; But, if ye note, they did their kings their right: These more than heathen sacrilegious men, Professing Christ, banish Christ's champion hence, Their lawful lord, their home-born sovereign, With petty quarrels and with slight pretence.

Enter RICHMOND, Soldiers.

O, let me be as short as time is short, For the arm'd foe is now within our sight. Remember how 'gainst ten one man did fight, So hundreds against thousands have borne head! You are the men that ever conquered: If multitudes oppress ye that ye die, Let's sell our lives, and leave them valiantly. Courage! upon them! till we cannot stand.

JOHN. Richmond is yonder.

QUEEN. Ay, and, son, I think, The king is not far off.

CHES. Now heaven forfend!

LEI. Why smite ye not, but stand thus cowardly?

RICH. If Richmond hurt good Leicester, let him die.

LEI. Richmond! O, pardon mine offending eye, That took thee for a foe: welcome, dear friend! Where is my sovereign Richard? Thou and he Were both in Austria. Richmond, comfort me, And tell me where he is, and how he fares. O, for his ransom, many thousand cares Have me afflicted.

RICH. Leicester, he is come to London, And will himself to faithless Austria, Like a true king, his promis'd ransom bear.

LEI. At London, say'st thou, Richmond? is he there? Farewell: I will not stay to tell my wrongs To these pale-colour'd, heartless, guilty lords. Richmond, you shall go with me: do not stay, And I will tell you wonders by the way.

RICH. The king did doubt you had some injury, And therefore sent this power to rescue ye.

LEI. I thank his grace. Madam, adieu, adieu. I'll to your son, and leave your shade with you.

[Exeunt.

JOHN. Hark how he mocks me, calling me your shade. Chester and Salisbury, shall we gather power, And keep what we have got?

CHES. And in an hour Be taken, judg'd, and 'headed with disgrace. Salisbury, what say you?

SAL. My lord, I bid your excellence adieu. I to King Richard will submit my knee: I have good hope his grace will pardon me.

CHES. And, Salisbury, I'll go along with thee. Farewell, Queen Mother; fare you well, Lord John.

JOHN. Mother, stay you.

QUEEN. Not I, son, by Saint Anne.

JOHN. Will you not stay?

QUEEN. Go with me: I will do the best I may To beg my son's forgiveness of my son. [Exit.

JOHN. Go by yourself. By heaven, 'twas 'long of you I rose to fall so soon. Leicester and Richmond's crew, They come to take me: now too late I rue My proud attempt. Like falling Phaeton, I perish from my guiding of the sun.

Enter again LEICESTER and RICHMOND.[224]

LEI. I will go back, i' faith, once more and see, Whether this mock king and the Mother Queen— And who—Here's neither queen nor lord! What, king of crickets, is there none but you? Come off, [this crown: this sceptre, off!][225] This crown, this sceptre are King Richard's right: Bear thou them, Richmond, thou art his true knight. You would not send his ransom, gentle John; He's come to fetch it now. Come, wily fox, Now you are stripp'd out of the lion's case, What, dare you look the lion in the face? The English lion, that in Austria With his strong hand pull'd out a lion's heart. Good Richmond, tell it me; for God's sake, do: O, it does me good to hear his glories told.

RICH. Leicester, I saw King Richard with his fist Strike dead the son of Austrian Leopold, And then I saw him, by the duke's command, Compass'd and taken by a troop of men, Who led King Richard to a lion's den. Opening the door, and in a paved court, The cowards left King Richard weaponless: Anon comes forth the fire-eyed dreadful beast, And with a heart-amazing voice he roar'd, Opening (like hell) his iron-toothed jaws, And stretching out his fierce death-threatening paws. I tell thee, Leicester, and I smile thereat (Though then, God knows, I had no power to smile), I stood by treacherous Austria all the while, Who in a gallery with iron grates Stay'd to behold King Richard made a prey.

LEI. What was't thou smiledst at in Austria?

RICH. Leicester, he shook—so help me God, he shook— With very terror at the lion's look.

LEI. Ah, coward! but go on, what Richard did.

RICH. Richard about his right hand wound a scarf (God quite her for it) given him by a maid: With endless good may that good deed be paid! And thrust that arm down the devouring throat Of the fierce lion, and withdrawing it, Drew out the strong heart of the monstrous beast, And left the senseless body on the ground.

LEI. O royal Richard: Richmond, look on John: Does he not quake in hearing this discourse? Come, we will leave him, Richmond: let us go. John, make suit For grace, that is your [only] means, you know.

[Exeunt.

JOHN. A mischief on that Leicester! is he gone? 'Twere best go too, lest in some mad fit He turn again, and lead me prisoner. Southward I dare not fly: fain, fain I would To Scotland bend my course; but all the woods Are full of outlaws, that in Kendal green Follow the outlaw'd Earl of Huntington. Well, I will clothe myself in such a suit, And by that means as well 'scape all pursuit, As pass the danger-threatening Huntington; For, having many outlaws, they'll think me By my attire one of their mates to be.

[Exit.



SCENE 2.

Enter SCARLET, LITTLE JOHN, and FRIAR TUCK.

FRIAR. Scarlet and John, so God me save, No mind unto my beads I have: I think it be a luckless day, For I can neither sing nor say; Nor have I any power to look On portace or on matin book.

SCAR. What is the reason, tell us, Friar?

FRIAR. And would ye have me be no liar?

LIT. JOHN. No. God defend that you should lie: A churchman be a liar?—fie!

FRIAR. Then, by this hallow'd crucifix, The holy water and the pix, It greatly at my stomach sticks, That all this day we had no gues',[226] And have of meat so many a mess.

MUCH brings out ELY, like a countryman with a basket.

MUCH. Well, and ye be but a market, ye are but a market-man.

ELY. I am sure, sir, I do you no hurt, do I?

SCAR. We shall have company, no doubt: My fellow Much hath found one out.

FRIAR. A fox, a fox! as I am friar, Much is well worthy of good hire.

LIT. JOHN. Say, Friar, soothly, know'st thou him!

FRIAR. It is a wolf in a sheep's skin. Go, call our master, Little John; A glad man will he be anon. It's Ely, man, the chancellor. [Aside.]

LIT. JOHN. God's pity! look unto him, Friar. [Aside. Exit LITTLE JOHN.

MUCH. What, ha' ye eggs to sell, old fellow?

ELY. Ay, sir, some few; and those my need constrains me bear to Mansfield, that I may sell them there to buy me bread.

SCAR. Alas, good man! I prythee, where dost dwell?

ELY. I dwell in Oxon, sir.

SCAR. I know the town.

MUCH. Alas, poor fellow! if thou dwell with oxen, it's strange they do not gore thee with their horns.

ELY. Masters, I tell ye truly where I dwell, And whither I am going; let me go. Your master would be much displeas'd, I know, If he should hear you hinder poor men thus.

FRIAR. Father, one word with you, before we part.

MUCH. Scarlet, the Friar will make us have anger all. Farewell; and bear me witness, though I stay'd him, I stay'd him not. An old fellow and a market man! [Exit.

FRIAR. Whoop! in your riddles, Much? then we shall ha't.

SCAR. What dost thou, Friar? prythee, let him go.

FRIAR. I prythee, Scarlet, let us two alone.

[Exit SCAR.

ELY. Friar, I see thou know'st me: let me go, And many a good turn I to thee will owe.

FRIAR. My master's service bids me answer no, Yet love of holy churchmen wills it so. Well, good my lord, I will do what I may To let your holiness escape away.

Enter ROBIN HOOD and LITTLE JOHN.[227]

Here comes my master: if he question you, Answer him like a plain man, and you may pass.

ELY. Thanks, Friar.

FRIAR. O, my lord thinks me an ass.

ROB. H. Friar, what honest man is there with thee?

FRIAR. A silly man, good master. I will speak for you: Stand you aloof, for fear they note your face. [To ELY.

Master, in plain, It were but in vain, Long to detain With toys or with babbles, With fond, feigned fables; But him that you see In so mean degree Is the Lord Ely, That help'd to exile you, That oft did revile you. Though in his fall His train be but small, And no man at all Will give him the wall, Nor lord doth him call, Yet he did ride, On jennets pied, And knights by his side Did foot it each tide. O, see the fall of pride.[228]

ROB. H. Friar, enough. [Aside.

FRIAR. I pray, sir, let him go, He is a very simple man in show: He dwells at Oxon, and to us doth say, To Mansfield market he doth take his way.

LIT. JOHN. Friar, this is not Mansfield market-day.

ROB. H. What would he sell?

FRIAR. Eggs, sir, as he says.

ROB. H. Scarlet, go thy ways: Take in this old man, fill his skin with venison, And after give him money for his eggs.

ELY. No, sir, I thank you, I have promis'd them To Master Bailey's wife, of Mansfield, all.

ROB. H. Nay, sir, you do me wrong: No Bailey nor his wife shall have an egg. Scarlet, I say, take his eggs, and give him money.

ELY. Pray, sir.

FRIAR. Tush, let him have your eggs.

ELY. Faith, I have none.

FRIAR. God's pity, then, he will find you some.[229]

SCAR. Here are no eggs, nor anything but hay. Yes, by the mass, here's somewhat like a seal!

ROB. H. O God! My prince's seal! fair England's royal seal! Tell me, thou man of death, thou wicked man, How cam'st thou by this seal? wilt thou not speak? Bring burning irons! I will make him speak. For I do know the poor distressed lord, The king's vicegerent, learned, reverend Ely, Flying the fury of ambitious John, Is murder'd by this peasant. Speak, vile man, Where thou hast done thrice honourable Ely!

ELY. Why dost thou grace Ely with styles of grace, Who thee with all his power sought to disgrace?

ROB. H. Belike, his wisdom saw some fault in me.

ELY. No, I assure thee, honourable earl; It was his envy, no defect of thine, And the persuasions of the Prior of York, Which Ely now repents. See, Huntington, Ely himself, and pity him, good son.

ROB. H. Alas, for woe! alack, that so great state The malice of this world should ruinate! Come in, great lord, sit down and take thy ease, Receive the seal, and pardon my offence. With me you shall be safe, and if you please, Till Richard come, from all men's violence. Aged Fitzwater, banished by John, And his fair daughter shall converse with you: I and my men that me attend upon Shall give you all that is to honour due. Will you accept my service, noble lord?

ELY. Thy kindness drives me to such inward shame, That, for my life, I no reply can frame. Go; I will follow. Blessed may'st thou be, That thus reliev'st thy foes in misery!

[Exeunt.

LIT. JOHN. Skelton, a word or two beside the play.

FRIAR. Now, Sir John Eltham, what is't you would say?

LIT. JOHN. Methinks, I see no jests of Robin Hood, No merry morrices of Friar Tuck, No pleasant skippings up and down the wood, No hunting-songs, no coursing of the buck. Pray God this play of ours may have good luck, And the king's majesty mislike it not.

FRIAR. And if he do, what can we do to that? I promis'd him a play of Robin Hood, His honourable life in merry Sherwood. His majesty himself survey'd the plot, And bad me boldly write it; it was good. For merry jests they have been shown before, As how the friar fell into the well For love of Jenny, that fair bonny belle; How Greenleaf robb'd the Shrieve of Nottingham, And other mirthful matter full of game.[230] Our play expresses noble Robert's wrong; His mild forgetting treacherous injury: The abbot's malice, rak'd in cinders long, Breaks out at last with Robin's tragedy. If these, that hear the history rehears'd, Condemn my play, when it begins to spring, I'll let it wither, while it is a bud, And never show the flower to the king.

LIT. JOHN. One thing beside: you fall into your vein Of ribble-rabble rhymes Skeltonical, So oft, and stand so long, that you offend.

FRIAR. It is a fault I hardly can amend. O, how I champ my tongue to talk these terms! I do forget ofttimes my friar's part; But pull me by the sleeve when I exceed, And you shall see me mend that fault indeed.

Wherefore, still sit you, Doth Skelton entreat you While he facete Will briefly repeat ye The history all And tale tragical, By whose treachery And base injury Robin the good, Call'd Robin Hood, Died in Sherwood. Which till you see, Be ruled by me: Sit patiently, And give a plaudite, If anything please ye.

[Exeunt.



ACT V., SCENE 1.

Enter WARMAN.

WAR. Banish'd from all, of all I am bereft! No more than what I wear unto me left. O wretched, wretched grief, desertful fall! Striving to get all, I am reft of all. Yet if I could awhile myself relieve, Till Ely be in some place settled, A double restitution should I get, And these sharp sorrows, that have joy suppress'd, Should turn to joy with double interest.

Enter a GENTLEMAN, Warman's Cousin.

And in good time, here comes my cousin Warman, Whom I have often pleasur'd in my time. His house at Bingham I bestow'd on him, And therefore doubt not, he will give me house-room. Good even, cousin.

COU. O cousin Warman, what good news with you?

WAR. Whither so far a-foot walk you in Sherwood?

COU. I came from Rotherham; and by hither Farnsfield My horse did tire, and I walk'd home a-foot.

WAR. I do beseech you, cousin, at some friend's, Or at your own house, for a week or two Give me some succour.

COU. Ha! succour, say you? No, sir: I heard at Mansfield how the matter stands; How you have justly lost your goods and lands, And that the prince's indignation Will fall on any that relieves your state. Away from me! your treacheries I hate. You, when your noble master was undone, (That honourable-minded Huntington), Who forwarder than you all to distrain? And, as a wolf that chaseth on the plain The harmless hind, so wolf-like you pursued Him and his servants. Vile ingratitude, Damn'd Judasism,[231] false wrong, abhorred treachery, Impious wickedness, wicked impiety! Out, out upon thee! foh, I spit at thee!

WAR. Good cousin.

COU. Away! I'll spurn thee if thou follow me. [Exit.

WAR. O just heaven, how thou plagu'st iniquity! All that he has my hand on him bestowed. My master gave me all I ever owed, My master I abus'd in his distress; In mine my kinsman leaves me comfortless.

Enter JAILER of Nottingham, leading a dog.

Here comes another; one that yesterday Was at my service, came when I did call, And him I made jailer of Nottingham. Perchance some pity dwells within the man; Jailer, well met; dost thou not know me, man?

JAI. Yes, thou art Warman; every knave knows thee.

WAR. Thou know'st I was thy master yesterday.

JAI. Ay, but 'tis not as it was: farewell; go by.

WAR. Good George, relieve my bitter misery.

JAI. By this flesh and blood, I will not. No, if I do, the devil take me quick. I have no money, beggar: balk the way!

WAR. I do not ask thee money.

JAI. Wouldst ha' meat?

WAR. Would God I had a little bread to eat.

JAI. Soft, let me feel my bag. O, here is meat, That I put up at Retford for my dog: I care not greatly if I give thee[232] this.

WAR. I prythee, do.

JAI.[233] Yet let me search my conscience for it first: My dog's my servant, faithful, trusty, true; But Warman was a traitor to his lord, A reprobate, a rascal and a Jew, Worser than dogs, of men to be abhorr'd! Starve, therefore, Warman; dog, receive thy due. Follow me not, lest I belabour you, You half-fac'd groat, you thick-cheek'd chittyface; You Judas-villain! you that have undone The honourable Robert Earl of Huntington. [Exit.

WAR. Worse than a dog the villain me respects, His dog he feeds, me in my need rejects. What shall I do? yonder I see a shed, A little cottage, where a woman dwells, Whose husband I from death delivered: If she deny me, then I faint and die. Ho! goodwife Thompson!

WOM. What a noise is there? A foul shame on ye! is it you that knock'd?

WAR. What, do you know me then?

WOM. Whoop! who knows not you? The beggar'd, banish'd Shrieve of Nottingham, You that betray'd your master: is't not you? Yes, a shame on you! and forsooth ye come, To have some succour here, because you sav'd My unthrift husband from the gallow-tree. A pox upon you both! would both for me Were hang'd together. But soft, let me see; The man looks faint: feel'st thou indeed distress?

WAR. O, do not mock me in my heaviness.

WOM. Indeed, I do not. Well, I have within A caudle made, I will go fetch it him. [Exit.

WAR. O blessed woman! comfortable word! Be quiet, entrails, you shall be reliev'd.

Enter WOMAN.[234]

WOM. Here, Warman, put this hempen caudle o'er thy head. See downward yonder is thy master's walk; And like a Judas, on some rotten tree, Hang up this rotten trunk of misery, That goers-by thy wretched end may see. Stirr'st thou not, villain? get thee from my door; A plague upon thee, haste and hang thyself. Run, rogue, away! 'tis thou that hast undone Thy noble master, Earl of Huntington. [Exit.

WAR. Good counsel and good comfort, by my faith. Three doctors are of one opinion, That Warman must make speed to hang himself. The last hath given a caudle comfortable, That to recure my griefs is strong and able: I'll take her medicine, and I'll choose this way, Wherein, she saith, my master hath his walk; There will I offer life for treachery, And hang, a wonder to all goers-by. But soft! what sound harmonious is this? What birds are these, that sing so cheerfully, As if they did salute the flowering spring? Fitter it were with tunes more dolefully They shriek'd out sorrow, than thus cheerly sing. I will go seek sad desperation's cell; This is not it, for here are green-leav'd trees. Ah, for one winter-bitten bared bough, Whereon a wretched life a wretch would lese. O, here is one! Thrice-blessed be this tree, If a man cursed may a blessing give.

Enter OLD FITZWATER.

But out, alas! yonder comes one to me To hinder death, when I detest to live.

FITZ. What woful voice hear I within this wood? What wretch is there complains of wretchedness?

WAR. A man, old man, bereav'd of all earth's good, And desperately seeks death in this distress.

FITZ. Seek not for that which will be here too soon, At least, if thou be guilty of ill-deeds. Where art thou, son? come, and nearer sit: Hear wholesome counsel 'gainst unhallow'd thoughts.

WAR. The man is blind. Muffle the eye of day, Ye gloomy clouds (and darker than my deeds, That darker be than pitchy sable night) Muster together on these high-topp'd trees, That not a spark of light thorough their sprays May hinder what I mean to execute.

FITZ. What dost thou mutter? Hear me woful man.

Enter MARIAN with meat.

MAR. Good morrow, father.

FITZ. Welcome, lovely maid; And in good time, I trust, you hither come. Look if you see not a distressful man, That to himself intendeth violence: One such even now was here, and is not far. Seek, I beseech you; save him, if you may.

MAR. Alas! here is, here is a man enrag'd, Fastening a halter on a wither'd bough, And stares upon me with such frighted looks, As I am fearful of his sharp aspect.

FITZ. What mean'st thou, wretch? say, what is't thou wilt do?

WAR. As Judas did, so I intend to do, For I have done already as he did: His master he betray'd, so I have mine. Fair mistress, look not on me with your blessed eyne: From them, as from some excellence divine, Sparkles sharp judgment, and commands with speed. Fair, fare you well: foul fortune is my fate; As all betrayers, I die desperate.

FITZ. Soft, ho! Go, Marian, call in Robin Hood: 'Tis Warman, woman, that was once his steward.

MAR. Alas! although it be, yet save his life! I will send help unto you presently. [Exit.

FITZ. Nay, Warman, stay; thou shalt have thy will.

WAR. Art thou a blind man, and canst see my shame? To hinder treachers God restoreth sight, And giveth infants tongues to cry aloud A woful woe against the treacherous.

Enter MUCH, running.

MUCH. Hold, hold, hold! I hear say my fellow Warman is about to hang himself, and make I some speed to save him a labour. O good master, Justice Shrieve, have you execution in hand, and is there such a murrain among thieves and hangmen, that you play two parts in one? For old acquaintance, I will play one part. The knot under the ear, the knitting to the tree: Good Master Warman, leave that work for me.

WAR. Despatch me, Much, and I will pray for thee.

MUCH. Nay, keep your prayers, nobody sees us. [He takes the rope, and offers to climb.

FITZ. Down, sirrah, down! whither, a knave's name, climb you?

MUCH. A plague on ye for a blind sinksanker![235] would I were your match. You are much blind, i'faith, can hit so right.

Enter LITTLE JOHN.

LIT. JOHN. What, Master Warman, are ye come to yield A true account for your false stewardship?

Enter SCARLET and SCATHLOCK.

SCATH. Much, if thou mean'st to get a hundred pound, Present us to the Shrieve of Nottingham.

MUCH. Mass, I think there was such proclamation. Come, my small fellow John, You shall have half, and therefore bring in one.

LIT. JOHN. No, my big fellow, honest Master Much, Take all unto yourself: I'll be no half.

MUCH. Then stand: you shall be the two thieves, and I'll be the presenter. O Master Shrieve of Nottingham, When ears unto my tidings came,[236] (I'll speak in prose, I miss this verse vilely) that Scathlock and Scarlet were arrested by Robin Hood, my master, and Little John, my fellow, and Much, his servant, and taken from you, Master Shrieve, being well forward in the hanging way, wherein ye now are (and God keep ye in the same), and also that you, Master Shrieve, would give any man in town, city, or country a hundred pound of lawful arrant[237] money of England, that would bring the same two thieves, being these two; now I, the said Much, challenge of you the said Shrieve, bringing them, the same money.

SCAR. Faith, he cannot pay thee, Much.

MUCH. Ay, but while this end is in my hand, and that about his neck, he is bound to it.

Enter ROBIN, ELY, MARIAN.

WAR. Mock on, mock on: make me your jesting game. I do deserve much more than this small shame.

ROB. H. Disconsolate and poor dejected man, Cast from thy neck that shameful sign of death, And live for me, if thou amend thy life, As much in favour as thou ever didst.

WAR. O, worse than any death, When a man wrong'd his wronger pitieth!

ELY. Warman, be comforted, rise and amend: On my word, Robin Hood will be thy friend.

ROB. H. I will indeed: go in, heart-broken man. Father Fitzwater, pray lead him in. Kind Marian, with sweet comforts comfort him, And my tall yeomen, as you me affect, Upbraid him not with his forepassed life. Warman, go in; go in and comfort thee.

WAR. O, God requite your honour's courtesy.

MAR. Scathlock or Scarlet, help us, some of ye.

[Exeunt WARMAN, MARIAN, FITZWATER, SCATHLOCK, SCARLET, MUCH.

Enter FRIAR TUCK in his truss, without his weed.

FRIAR. Jesu benedicite! Pity on pity, Mercy on mercy, Misery on misery! O, such a sight, As by this light, Doth me affright?

ROB. H. Tell us the matter, prythee, holy Friar.

FRIAR. Sir Doncaster the priest and the proud Prior Are stripp'd and wounded in the way to Bawtrey, And if there go not speedy remedy, They'll die, they'll die in this extremity.

ROB. H. Alas! direct us to that wretched place: I love mine uncle, though he hateth me.

FRIAR. My weed I cast to keep them from the cold, And Jenny, gentle girl, tore all her smock The bloody issue of their wounds to stop.

ROB. H. Will you go with us, my good Lord of Ely?

ELY. I will, and ever praise thy perfect charity.

[Exeunt.

Enter PRINCE JOHN solus, in green: with bow and arrows.

JOHN. Why, this is somewhat like: now may I sing, As did the Wakefield Pinder in his note—

At Michaelmas cometh my covenant out, My master gives me my fee: Then, Robin, I'll wear thy Kendal green, And wend to the greenwood with thee.[238]

But for a name now: John it must not be, Already Little John on him attends: Greenleaf? Nay, surely there's such a one already: Well, I'll be Woodnet, hap what happen may.

Enter SCATHLOCK.

Here comes a green coat (good luck be my guide) Some sudden shift might help me to provide.

SCATH. What, fellow William, did you meet our master?

JOHN. I did not meet him yet, my honest friend.

SCATH. My honest friend! why, what a term is here? My name is Scathlock, man, and if thou be No other than thy garments show to me, Thou art my fellow, though I know thee not. What is thy name? When wert thou entertain'd?

JOHN. My name is Woodnet; and this very day My noble master, Earl of Huntington, Did give me both my fee and livery.

SCATH. Your noble master, Earl of Huntington! I'll lay a crown you are a counterfeit, And that, you know, lacks money of a noble. Did you receive your livery and fee, And never heard our orders read unto you? What was the oath was given you by the Friar?

JOHN. Who?—Friar Tuck?

SCATH. Ay, do not play the liar, For he comes here himself to shrive.

Enter FRIAR TUCK.

JOHN. Scathlock, farewell; I will away.

SCATH. See you this arrow? it says nay. Through both your sides shall fly this feather, If presently you come not hither.

FRIAR. Now heaven's true liberality Fall ever for his charity Upon the head of Robin Hood, That to his very foes doth good. Lord God! how he laments the Prior, And bathes his wounds against the fire. Fair Marian, God requite it her, Doth even as much for Doncaster, Whom newly she hath lain in bed, To rest his weary, wounded head.

SCATH. Ho! Friar Tuck, know you this mate?

FRIAR. What's he?

SCATH. He says my master late Gave him his fee and livery.

FRIAR. It is a leasing, credit me. How chance, sir, then you were not sworn?

JOHN. What mean this groom and lozel friar, So strictly matters to inquire? Had I a sword and buckler here, You should aby these questions dear.

FRIAR. Say'st thou me so, lad? lend him thine, For in this bush here lieth mine. Now will I try this new-come guest.

SCATH. I am his first man, Friar Tuck, And if I fail, and have no luck, Then thou with him shalt have a pluck.

FRIAR. Be it so, Scathlock. Hold thee, lad, No better weapons can be had: The dew doth them a little rust; But, hear ye, they are tools of trust.[239]

JOHN. Gramercy, Friar, for this gift, And if thou come unto my shrift, I'll make thee call those fellows fools That on their foes bestow such tools.

SCATH. Come, let's to't.

[Fight, and the FRIAR looks on.

FRIAR. The youth is deliver[240] and light, He presseth Scathlock with his might: Now, by my beads, to do him right, I think he be some tried knight.

SCATH. Stay, let us breathe!

JOHN. I will not stay; If you leave, Friar, come away.

SCATH. I prythee, Friar, hold him play.

FRIAR. Friar Tuck will do the best he may.

[Fight.

Enter MARIAN.

MAR. Why, what a noise of swords is here! Fellows, and fight our bower so near?

SCATH. Mistress, he is no man of yours, That fights so fast with Friar Tuck; But, on my word, he is a man As good for strength as any can.

MAR. Indeed, he's more than common men can be; In his high heart there dwells the blood of kings. Go call my Robin, Scathlock: [Aside] 'tis Prince John.

SCATH. Mistress, I will: I pray [thee] part the fray. [Exit.

MAR. I prythee go, I will do what I may. Friar, I charge thee hold thy hand.

FRIAR. Nay, younker, to your tackling stand. What, all amort,[241] will you not fight?

JOHN. I yield, unconquer'd by thy might, But by Matilda's glorious sight.

FRIAR. Mistress, he knows you: what is he?

JOHN. Like to amazing wonder she appears, And from her eye flies love unto my heart, Attended by suspicious thoughts and fears That numb the vigour of each outward part. Only my sight hath all satiety And fulness of delight, viewing her deity.

MAR. But I have no delight in you, Prince John.

FRIAR. Is this Prince John? Give me thy hand, thou art a proper man: And for this morning's work, by saints above, Be ever sure of Friar Tuck's true love.

JOHN. Be not offended that I touch thy shrine; Make this hand happy: let it fold in thine.

Enter ROBIN HOOD, FITZWATER, ELY, WARMAN.

ROB. H. What saucy woodman, Marian, stands so near?

JOHN. A woodman, Robin, that would strike your deer With all his heart. Nay, never look so strange, You see this fickle world is full of change: John is a ranger, man, compell'd to range.

FITZ. You are young, wild lord, and well may travel bear.

JOHN. What, my old friend Fitzwater, are you there? And you, Lord Ely? and old best-betruss'd?[242] Then I perceive that to this gear we must. A mess of my good friends! which of you four Will purchase thanks by yielding to the king The body of the rash, rebellious John? Will you, Fitzwater?

FITZ. No, John, I defy[243] To stain my old hands in thy youthful blood.

JOHN. You will, Lord Ely; I am sure you will.

ELY. Be sure, young man, my age means thee no ill.

JOHN. O, you will have the praise, brave Robin Hood. The lusty outlaw, lord of this large wood: He'll lead a king's son prisoner to a king, And bid the brother smite the brother dead.

ROB. H. My purpose you have much misconstrued: Prince John, I would not for the wide world's wealth Incense his majesty, but do my best To mitigate his wrath, if he be mov'd.

JOHN. Will none of you? then, here's one I dare say, That from his childhood knows how to betray: Warman, will you not help to hinder all you may?

WAR. With what I have been, twit me not, my lord: My old sins at my soul I do detest.

JOHN. Then, that he came this way Prince John was blest. Forgive me, Ely; pardon me, Fitzwater: And Robin, to thy hands myself I yield.

ROB. H. And as my heart from hurt I will thee shield.

Enter MUCH, running.

MUCH. Master, fly! hide ye, mistress! we all shall be taken.

ROB. H. Why, what's the matter?

MUCH. The king! the king! and twelve and twenty score of horses.

ROB. H. Peace, fool! we have no cause from him to fly.

Enter SCARLET, LITTLE JOHN.

LIT. JOHN. Scarlet and I were hunting on the plain; To us came royal Richard from his train, For a great train of his is hard at hand, And questioned us if we serv'd Robin Hood? I said we did; and then his majesty, Putting this massy chain about my neck, Said what I shame to say, but joy'd to hear. Let Scarlet tell it, it befits not me.

SCAR. Quoth our good king, Thy name is Little John, And thou hast long time serv'd Earl Huntington: Because thou left'st him not in misery, A hundred marks I give thee yearly fee, And from henceforth thou shalt a squire be.

MUCH. O lord, what luck had I to run away! I should have been made a knight or a lady, sure.

SCAR. Go, said the king, and to your master say, Richard is come to call him to the court, And with his kingly presence chase the clouds Of grief and sorrow, that in misty shades Have veil'd the honour of Earl Huntington.

ROB. H. Now God preserve him! hie you back again, And guide him, lest in bypaths he mistake. Much, fetch a richer garment for my father; Good Friar Tuck, I prythee rouse thy wits: Warman, visit mine uncle and Sir Doncaster, See if they can come forth to grace our show. God's pity, Marian, let your Jenny wait. Thanks, my lord chancellor, you are well prepar'd; And, good Prince John, since you are all in green, Disdain not to attend on Robin Hood: Frolic, I pray; I trust to do ye good.

Enter PRIOR and SIR DONCASTER.[244]

Welcome, good uncle, welcome, Sir Doncaster. Say, will ye sit; I fear ye cannot stand.

PRIOR. Yes, very well.

ROB. H. Why, cheerly, cheerly then. The trumpet sounds, the king is now at hand: Lords, yeomen, maids, in decent order stand.

The trumpets sound the while ROBIN HOOD places them. Enter first, bareheaded, LITTLE JOHN and SCARLET; likewise CHESTER and LEICESTER, bearing the sword and sceptre; the KING follows, crowned, clad in green; after him QUEEN MOTHER; after her SALISBURY and RICHMOND. SCARLET and SCATHLOCK turn to ROBIN HOOD, who with all his company kneel down and cry—

ALL. God save King Richard! Lord preserve your grace!

KING. Thanks all; but chiefly, Huntington, to thee. Arise, poor earl; stand up, my late-lost son. And on thy shoulders let me rest my arms, That have been toiled long with heathen wars. True pillar of my state, right lord indeed, Whose honour shineth in the den of need, I am even full of joy and full of woe, To see thee, glad; but sad to see thee so.

ROB. H. O, that I could pour out my soul in prayers, And praises for this kingly courtesy! Do not, dread lord, grieve at my low estate: Never so rich, never so fortunate, Was Huntington as now himself he finds; And to approve it, may it please your grace, But to accept such presents at the hand Of your poor servant as he hath prepar'd. You shall perceive the Emperor of the East, Whom you contended with at Babylon, Had not such presents to present you with.

KING. Art thou so rich? swift,[245] let me see thy gifts.

ROB. H. First, take again this jewel you had lost, Aged Fitzwater, banished by John.

KING. A gem indeed! no prince hath such a one. Good, good old man, as welcome unto me As cool fresh air in heat's extremity.

FITZ. And I as glad to kiss my sovereign's hand, As the wreck'd swimmer, when he feels the land.

QUEEN. Welcome, Fitzwater, I am glad to see you.

FITZ. I thank your grace: but let me hug these twain, Leicester and Richmond, Christ's sworn champions, That follow'd Richard in his holy war.

RICH. Noble Fitzwater, thanks, and welcome both.

LEI. O God, how glad I am to see this lord! I cannot speak, but welcome at a word.

ROB. H. Next, take good Ely in your royal hands, Who fled from death and most uncivil bonds.

KING. Robin, thy gifts exceed. Morton, my chancellor! In this man giv'st thou holiness and honour.

ELY. Indeed he gives me, and he gave me life, Preserving me from fierce pursuing foes. When I, to blame, had wrought him many woes. With me he likewise did preserve this seal, Which I surrender to your majesty.

KING. Keep it, good Ely, keep it still for me.

ROB. H. The next fair jewel that I will present Is richer than both these; yet in the foil, My gracious lord, it hath a foul default Which if you pardon, boldly I protest, It will in value far exceed the rest.

JOHN. That's me he means; i'faith, my turn is next. He calls me foil: i'faith, I fear a foil. Well, 'tis a mad lord, this same Huntington. [Aside.

ROB. H. Here is Prince John, your brother, whose revolt And folly in your absence, let me crave, With his submission may be buried; For he is now no more the man he was, But dutiful in all respects to you.

KING. Pray God it prove so. Well, good Huntington, For thy sake pardon'd is our brother John, And welcome to us in all hearty love.

ROB. H. This last I give, as tenants do their lands, With a surrender to receive again The same into their own possession; No Marian, but Fitzwater's chaste Matilda: The precious jewel, that poor Huntington Doth in this world hold as his best esteem. Although with one hand I surrender her, I hold the other, as one looking still Richard return her: so I hope he will.

KING. Else God forbid. Receive thy Marian back, And never may your love be separate, But flourish fairly to the utmost date.

ROB. H. Now please my king to enter Robin's bower, And take such homely welcome as he finds, It shall be reckon'd as my happiness.

KING. With all my heart. Then, as combined friends, Go we together: here all quarrel ends.

[Exeunt.

Manent SIR JOHN ELTHAM and SKELTON.

SIR JOHN. Then, Skelton, here I see you will conclude.

SKEL. And reason good: have we not held too long?

SIR JOHN. No, in good sadness, I dare gage my life, His highness will accept it very kindly: But, I assure you, he expects withal To see the other matters tragical, That follow in the process of the story. Wherein are many a sad accident, Able to make the stoutest mind relent: I need not name the points, you know them all! From Marian's eye shall not one tear be shed? Skelton, i' faith, 'tis not the fashion. The king must grieve, the queen must take it ill: Ely must mourn, aged Fitzwater weep, Prince John, the lords, his yeomen must lament, And wring their woful hands for Robin's woe. Then must the sick man, fainting by degrees, Speak hollow words, and yield his Marian, Chaste maid Matilda, to her father's hands; And give her, with King Richard's full consent, His lands, his goods, late seiz'd on by the Prior, Now by the Prior's treason made the king's. Skelton, there are a many other things, That ask long time to tell them lineally; But ten times longer will the action be.

SKEL. Sir John, i' faith, I know not what to do, And I confess that all you say is true. Will you do one thing for me? Crave the king To see two parts: say, 'tis a pretty thing. I know you can do much; if you excuse me, While Skelton lives, Sir John, be bold to use me.

SIR JOHN. I will persuade the king; but how can you Persuade all these beholders to content?

SKEL. Stay, Sir John Eltham: what to them I say, Deliver to the king from me, I pray. Well-judging hearers, for a while suspend Your censures of this play's unfinish'd end, And Skelton promises for this offence The second part shall presently be penn'd. There shall you see, as late my friend did note, King Richard's revels at Earl Robert's bower; The purpos'd mirth and the performed moan; The death of Robin and his murderers. For interest of your stay, this will I add: King Richard's voyage back to Austria, The swift-returned tidings of his death, The manner of his royal funeral.[246] Then John shall be a lawful crowned king, But to Matilda bear unlawful love. Aged Fitzwater's final banishment; His piteous end, of power tears to move From marble pillars. The catastrophe Shall show you fair Matilda's tragedy, Who (shunning John's pursuit) became a nun, At Dunmow[247] Abbey, where she constantly Chose death to save her spotless chastity. Take but my word, and if I fail in this, Then let my pains be baffled with a hiss.

FINIS.



EDITION.

The Death of Robert Earle of Huntington. Otherwise called Robin Hood of merrie Sherwodde: with the lamentable Tragedie of chaste Matilda, his faire maid Marian, poysoned at Dunmowe by King Iohn. Acted by the Right Honourable the Earle of Notingham, Lord high Admirall of England, his seruants. Imprinted at London, for William Leake 1601. 4to. B.L.



INTRODUCTION.

Henry Chettle, who certainly joined Anthony Munday in writing "The Death of Robert Earl of Huntington,"[248] if he did not also assist in penning "The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington," was a very prolific dramatic author. Malone erroneously states that he was the writer of, or was concerned in, thirty plays; according to information which he himself furnishes, forty-two are, either wholly or in part, to be assigned to Chettle. The titles of only twenty-five are inserted in the "Biographia Dramatica." The proof of his connection with the historical play now reprinted has been already supplied,[249] and it is derived from the same source as nearly all the rest of the intelligence regarding his works—the MSS. of Henslowe.

Of the incidents of the life of Henry Chettle absolutely nothing is known: we are ignorant of the times and places of his birth and death, and of the manner in which he obtained his education. It has been conjectured that he either was, or had been, a printer, but the point is very doubtful.[250] In a tract by him, called "England's Mourning Garment," on the death of Queen Elizabeth, he speaks of himself as having been "young almost thirty years ago," and as having been a witness of what passed at that period in the Court. If Ritson's conjecture [had been] well-founded, he [might have been admitted as] an author as early as 1578;[251] but the poetical tract assigned to him [under that date was the work of some other writer with the same initials, whose name is not known.]

The first account we have of Chettle in connection with the stage is under date of April 1599,[252] when, according to Henslowe, he was engaged with Dekker in writing a play called "Troilus and Cressida;" but there is good reason to infer, that if in 1603 he were "young almost thirty years ago," he had written for the theatre before 1599. Besides, in his "Kind Hartes Dreame," produced about three months after the death of his friend Robert Greene, on September 3d, 1592, he speaks generally of his connection with the dramatic poets of that day, as if it were not newly formed. Malone supposed that Shakespeare, with whom Chettle had then recently become acquainted, was alluded to in the same tract. In "England's Mourning Garment" Chettle addresses a stanza to "silver-tongued Melicert," [whom some critics have supposed to be Shakespeare. But this is mere conjecture.]

Francis Meres, in his often-quoted "Palladis Tamia" (1598), includes Chettle in a long list of other writers for the stage, as "one of the best for comedy;" but in earlier works upon the poetry and literature of England, such as Webbe's "Discourse" in 1586, and Puttenham's "Art of English Poesie" in 1589, he is not mentioned.

Henslowe's list of plays, with the authors' names attached, as [edited by Mr Collier], begins [in February 1591-2;] and there the first mention of Chettle is in February 1597-8: between that date and March 1602-3, a period of little more than five years, he wrote, or assisted in writing, all the dramatic performances with which his name is associated; a fact of itself sufficient to show, if Henslowe be accurate, that in many of them his share must have been very inconsiderable, perhaps only amounting to a few alterations. They are the following, exclusive of those pieces already enumerated,[253] in which he was concerned with Munday:—

1. The Valiant Welchman, by Michael Drayton and Henry Chettle, February 1597-8. Printed in 1615.[254]

2. Earl Goodwin and his Three Sons, Part I., by Michael Drayton, Henry Chettle, Thomas Dekker, and Robert Wilson, March 1598. Not printed.

3. Earl Goodwin, Part II., by the same authors, and under the same date in Henslowe's papers. Not printed.

4. Piers of Exton, by the same authors, same date. Not printed.

5. Black Batman of the North, Part I., by Henry Chettle, April 1598. Not printed.

6. Black Batman of the North, Part II., by Henry Chettle and Robert Wilson. Same date. Not printed.

7. The Play of a Woman, by Henry Chettle, July 1598. Not printed.[255]

8. The Conquest of Brute with the first finding of the Bath, by John Day, Henry Chettle, and John Singer. Same date. Not printed.

9. Hot Anger soon Cold, by Henry Porter, Henry Chettle, and Ben Jonson, August 1598. Not printed.

10. Catiline's Conspiracy, by Robert Wilson and Henry Chettle. Same date. Not printed.

11. 'Tis no Deceit to Deceive the Deceiver, by Henry Chettle, September 1598. Not printed.

12. Aeneas' Revenge, with the Tragedy of Polyphemus, by Henry Chettle, February 1598-9. Not printed.

13. Agamemnon, by Henry Chettle and Thomas Dekker, June 1599. Not printed. Malone thought that this was the same play as "Troilus and Cressida" before mentioned.

14. The Stepmother's Tragedy, by Henry Chettle, August 1599. Not printed.

15. Patient Grissel, by Thomas Dekker, Henry Chettle, and William Haughton, December 1599. Printed in 1603.

16. The Arcadian Virgin, by Henry Chettle and William Haughton. Same date. Not printed.

17. Damon and Pithias, by Henry Chettle, January 1599-1600. Not printed.[256]

18. The Seven Wise Masters, by Henry Chettle, Thomas Dekker, William Haughton, and John Day, March 1599-1600. Not printed.

19. The Golden Ass and Cupid and Psyche, by Thomas Dekker, John Day, and Henry Chettle, April 1600. Not printed.

20. The Wooing of Death, by Henry Chettle. Same date. Not printed.

21. The Blind Beggar of Bethnal Green, by Henry Chettle and John Day. Same date. Printed in 1659.

22. All is not Gold that Glisters, by Samuel Rowley and Henry Chettle, March 1600. Not printed.

23. Sebastian, King of Portugal, by Henry Chettle and Thomas Dekker, April 1601. Not printed.

24. Cardinal Wolsey, Part I., by Henry Chettle, August 1601. Not printed.

25. Cardinal Wolsey, Part II., by Henry Chettle, May 1602. Not printed.

26. The Orphan's Tragedy, by Henry Chettle, September 1601. Not printed.

27. Too Good to be True, by Henry Chettle, Richard Hathwaye, and Wentworth Smith, November 1601. Not printed.

28. Love Parts Friendship, by Henry Chettle and Wentworth Smith, May 1602. Not printed.

29. Tobyas, by Henry Chettle. Same date. Not printed.

30. Jeptha, by Henry Chettle. Same date. Not printed.

31. A Danish Tragedy, by Henry Chettle. Same date. Not printed.

32. Femelanco, by Henry Chettle and —— Robinson, September 1602. Not printed.

33. Lady Jane, Part I., by Henry Chettle, Thomas Dekker, Thomas Haywood, Wentworth Smith, and John Webster, November 1602. Not printed.

34. Lady Jane, Part II., by the same authors, Smith excepted. Same date. Not printed.

35. The London Florentine, Part I., by Thomas Heywood and Henry Chettle, December 1602. Not printed.

36. The London Florentine, Part II., by the same authors. Same date. Not printed.

37. The Tragedy of Hoffman, by Henry Chettle. Same date. Printed in 1631.

38. Jane Shore, by Henry Chettle and John Day, March 1602-3. Not printed.

Among the scattered notices in Henslowe's papers is an entry, dated September 3d, 1599, of 40s. advanced to Chettle, Jonson, Dekker, "and other gentlemen," on account of a tragedy they were engaged upon called "Robert the Second, King of Scots."

The interest of the "second part" of "Robert Earl of Huntington," on the whole, is stronger than that of the first part, and some powerful, though not always tasteful, writing gives effect to the situations. The death of Robin Hood takes place as early as the end of the first act, and attention is afterwards directed to the two, otherwise unconnected, plots of the fate of Lady Bruce and her little son, and of the love of King John for Matilda. Robert Davenport's Tragedy of "King John and Matilda," printed in 1655, goes precisely over the same ground, and with many decided marks of imitation, especially in the conduct of the story. Davenport's production is inferior in most respects to the earlier work of Chettle and Munday.



DRAMATIS PERSONAE.[257]

KING RICHARD THE FIRST. PRINCE JOHN, afterwards King. ROBERT, Earl of Huntington. LITTLE JOHN. SCATHLOCK. SCARLET. FRIAR TUCK. MUCH, the Clown. BISHOP OF ELY. CHESTER. SALISBURY. LEICESTER. RICHMOND. FITZWATER. YOUNG FITZWATER. WINCHESTER. BRUCE. YOUNG BRUCE. BOY, son of Lady Bruce. OXFORD. HUBERT. MOWBRAY. BONVILLE. PRIOR OF YORK. JUSTICE WARMAN. SIR DONCASTER. MONK OF BURY. WILL BRAND. Maskers, Messengers, Soldiers, &c. QUEEN MOTHER. QUEEN. MATILDA. LADY BRUCE. ABBESS OF DUNMOW.



THE DEATH OF ROBERT EARL OF HUNTINGTON.



ACT I, SCENE I.

Enter FRIAR TUCK.[258]

FRIAR. Holla, holla, holla! follow, follow, follow! [Like noise within.

Now, benedicite! What foul absurdity, Folly and foolery Had like to follow me! I and my mates, Like addle-pates, Inviting great states To see our last play, Are hunting the hay, With "Ho! that way The goodly hart ran," With "Follow, Little John! Much, play the man!" And I, like a sot, Have wholly forgot The course of our plot But, cross-bow, lie down, Come on, friar's gown, Hood, cover my crown, And with a low beck Prevent a sharp check.

Blithe sit ye all, and wink at our rude cry: Mind, where we left in Sherwood merrily The king, his train Robin, his yeomen tall, Gone to the wood to see the fat deer fall. We left maid Marian busy in the bower, And pretty Jenny looking every hour For their returning from the hunting-game, And therefore seek to set each thing in frame. Warman all woful for his sin we left: Sir Doncaster, whose villanies and theft You never heard of, but too soon ye shall, Housed[259] with the Prior, shame them both befall! They two will make our mirth be short and small. But lest I bring ye sorrow ere the time, Pardon I beg of your well-judging eyne, And take in part bad prologue and rude play. The hunters halloo! Tuck must needs away. Therefore down, weed;

Bow, do the deed To make the stag bleed; And if my hand speed, Hey for a cry, With a throat strain'd high, And a loud yall At the beast's fall

Enter KING, ELY, FITZWATER, SALISBURY, CHESTER, PRINCE JOHN, LITTLE JOHN, SCATHLOCK.

KING. Where is our mother?[260]

JOHN. Mounted in a stand: Six fallow deer have died by her hand.

FITZ. Three stags I slew.

ELY. Two bucks by me fell down.

CHES. As many died by me.

SAL. But I had three.

JOHN. Scathlock, where's Much?

SCATH. When last I saw him, may it please your grace, He and the Friar footed it apace.

JOHN. Scathlock, no grace—your fellow and plain John.

LIT. JOHN. I warrant you, Much will be here anon.

JOHN. Think'st thou, Little John, that he must Jenny wed?

LIT. JOHN. No doubt he must.

JOHN. Then to adorn his head, We shall have horns good store.

KING. God, for thy grace, How could I miss the stag I had in chase? Twice did I hit him in the very neck, When back my arrows flew, as they had smit On some sure armour. Where is Robin Hood And the wight[261] Scarlet? Seek them, Little John. [Exit LITTLE JOHN. I'll have that stag, before I dine, to-day.

Enter MUCH.

MUCH. O, the Friar, the Friar, the Friar!

KING. Why, how now, Much?

MUCH. Cry ye mercy, Master King:[262] marry, this is the matter. Scarlet is following the stag you hit, and has almost lodged him: now, the Friar has the best bow but yours in all the field; which and Scarlet had, he would have him straight.

KING. Where is thy master?

MUCH. Nay, I cannot tell, nor the Friar neither.

SCATH. I hear them halloo far off in the wood.

KING. Come, Much, can'st lead us where as Scarlet is?

MUCH. Never fear you: follow me.

[Exeunt hallooing.



SCENE II.

Enter SIR DONCASTER, PRIOR.

DON. You were resolv'd to have him poisoned, Or kill'd, or made away, you car'd not how: What devil makes you doubtful now to do't?

PRIOR. Why, Doncaster, his kindness in our needs.

DON. A plague upon his kindness! let him die. I never temper'd poison in my life, But I employ'd it. By th'mass, and I lose this, For ever look to lose my company.

PRIOR. But will you give it him?

DON. That cannot be. The queen, Earl Chester, and Earl Salisbury, If they once see me, I am a dead man: Or did they hear my name, I'll lay my life, They all would hunt me for my life.

PRIOR. What hast thou done to them?

DON. Faith, some odd toys, That made me fly the south: but pass we them. Here is the poison; will you give it Robin?

PRIOR. Now, by this gold, I will.

DON. Or, as I said, For ever I'll defy your company.

PRIOR. Well, he shall die, and in his jollity: And in my head I have a policy To make him die disgrac'd.

DON. O, tell it, Prior!

PRIOR. I will, but not as now; [Call the FRIAR within. We'll seek a place: the woods have many ears, And some, methinks, are calling for the Friar.[263]

Enter LITTLE JOHN and SCATHLOCK, calling the FRIAR, as before.

LIT. JOHN. The Friar! the Friar!

SCATH. Why, where's this Friar?

Enter FRIAR TUCK.

FRIAR. Here, sir: what is your desire?

Enter ROBIN HOOD and WARMAN.[264]

ROB. H. Why, Friar, what a murrain dost thou mean? The king calls for thee; for a mighty stag (That hath a copper-ring about his neck With letters on it, which he would have read) Hath Scarlet kill'd. I pray thee, go thy way.

FRIAR. Master, I will: no longer will I stay.

[Exit FRIAR TUCK, LITTLE JOHN, and SCATHLOCK.

ROB. H. Good uncle, be more careful of your health, And yours, Sir Doncaster; your wounds are green.

BOTH. Through your great kindness we are comforted.

ROB. H. And, Warman, I advise you to more mirth. Shun solitary walks, keep company: Forget your fault; I have forgiv'n the fault, Good Warman, be more blithe; and at this time A little help my Marian and her maid. Much shall come to you straight: a little now We must all strive to do the best we may. [Exit winding.[265]

WAR. On you and her I'll wait until my dying day.

[WARMAN is going out; DONCASTER pulls him.

DON. Warman, a word. My good Lord Prior and I Are full of grief to see thy misery.

WAR. My misery, Sir Doncaster? why, I thank God, I never was in better state than now.

PRIOR. Why, what a servile slavish mind hast thou! Art thou a man, and canst be such a beast, Ass-like to bear the burthen of thy wrongs?

WAR. What wrong have I? is't wrong to be reliev'd?

DON. Reliev'd, say'st thou? why, shallow-witted fool, Dost thou not see Robin's ambitious pride, And how he climbs by pitying, and aspires By humble looks, good deeds, and such fond toys, To be a monarch reigning over us, As if we were the vassals to his will?

WAR. I am his vassal, and I will be still.

PRIOR. Warman, thou art a fool. I do confess, Were these good deeds done in sincerity— Pity of mine, thine[266] or this knight's distress, Without vain brags—it were true charity: But to relieve our fainting bodies' wants, And grieve our souls with quips and bitter 'braids, Is good turns overturn'd: no thanks we owe To any whatsoever helps us so.

WAR. Neither himself nor any that he keeps Ever upbraided me, since I came last.

DON. O God, have mercy on thee, silly ass! Doth he not say to every guest that comes, This same is Warman, that was once my steward?

WAR. And what of that?

PRIOR. Is't not as much to say, Why, here he stands that once did me betray?

DON. Did he not bring a troop to grace himself, Like captives waiting on a conqueror's chair, And calling of them out by one and one, Presented them, like fairings, to the king?[267]

PRIOR. O, ay: there was a rare invention. A plague upon the fool! I hate him worse for that than all the rest.

WAR. Why should you hate him? why should you—or you— Envy this noble lord thus, as you do?

DON. Nay rather, why dost thou not join in hate With us, that lately liv'd, like us, in wealthy state? Remember this, remember, foolish man, How thou hast been the Shrieve of Nottingham.

PRIOR. Cry to thy thoughts, let this thought never cease— "I have been justice of my sovereign's peace, Lord of fair livings; men with cap and knee In liveries waited hourly on me."

DON. And when thou think'st thou hast been such and such, Think then what 'tis to be a mate to Much? To run when Robin bids, come at his call, Be Mistress Marian's man.

PRIOR. Nay, think withal—

WAR. What shall I think, but think upon my need, When men fed dogs, and me they would not feed? When I despair'd through want, and sought to die, My piteous master, of his charity, Forgave my fault, reliev'd and saved me. This do I think upon; and you should think (If you had hope of soul's salvation)— First, Prior, that he is of thy flesh and blood, That thou art uncle unto Robin Hood; That by extortion thou didst get his lands— God and I know how it came to thy hands: How thou pursued'st him in his misery, And how heaven plagued thy heart's extremity. Think, Doncaster, when, hired by this Prior, Thou cam'st to take my master with the Friar, And wert thyself ta'en; how he set thee free, Gave thee an hundred pound to comfort thee. And both bethink ye, how but yesterday Wounded and naked in the field you lay; How with his own hand he did raise your heads, Pour'd balm into your wounds, your bodies fed, Watch'd when ye slept, wept when he saw your woe—

DON. Stay, Warman, stay! I grant that he did so; And you, turn'd honest, have forsworn the villain?

WAR. Even from my soul I villany defy.

PRIOR. A blessed hour; a fit time now to die.

DON. And you shall, conscience.

[Stabs him, WARMAN falls.

WAR. O, forgive me, God, And save my master from their bloody hands!

PRIOR. What, hast thou made him sure?

DON. It's dead—sure he is dead, if that be sure?

PRIOR. Then let us thrust the dagger in his hand, And when the next comes, cry he kill'd himself.

DON. That must be now: yonder comes Robin Hood. No life in him?

PRIOR. No, no, not any life. Three mortal wounds have let in piercing air, And at their gaps his life is clean let out.

Enter ROBIN HOOD.

ROB. H. Who is it, uncle, that you so bemoan?

PRIOR. Warman, good nephew, whom Sir Doncaster and I Found freshly bleeding, as he now doth lie. You were scarce gone, when he did stab himself.

ROB. H. O God! He in his own hand holds his own heart's hurt: I dreaded, too, much his distressed look. Belike the wretch despair'd, and slew himself.

DON. Nay. that's most sure: yet he had little reason, Considering how well you used him.

ROB. H. Well, I am sorry, but must not be sad, Because the king is coming to my bower. Help me, I pray thee, to remove his body, Lest he should come and see him murdered. Some time anon he shall be buried.

[Exeunt ROBIN HOOD and SIR DONCASTER with the body.[268]

PRIOR. Good! all is good! this is as I desire: Now for a face of pure hypocrisy. Sweet murder, clothe thee in religious weeds, Reign in my bosom, that with help of thee I may effect this Robin's tragedy.

Enter ROBIN HOOD and SIR DONCASTER.

DON. Nay, nay, you must not take this thing so heavily.

ROB. H. A body's loss, Sir Doncaster, is much; But a soul's too is more to be bemoan'd.

PRIOR. Truly I wonder at your virtuous mind. O God, to one so kind who'd be unkind! Let go this grief: now must you put on joy, And for the many favours I have found, So much exceeding all conceit of mine, Unto your cheer I'll add a precious drink, Of colour rich and red, sent me from Rome, There's in it moly,[269] Syrian balsamum, Gold's rich elixir; O, 'tis precious!

ROB. H. Where is it, uncle?

PRIOR. As yesterday Sir Doncaster and I rid on our way, Thieves did beset us, bound us, as you saw, And among other things did take from me This rich confection: but regardlessly, As common drink, they cast into a bush The bottle, which this day Sir Doncaster Fetch'd, and hath left it in the inner lodging. I tell you, nephew (I do love you well). A pint of this ransom'd the Sophy's son When he was taken in Natolia. I meant, indeed, to give it my liege lord, In hope to have his favour; but to you I put myself: be my good friend, And, in your own restoring me restore.

ROB. H. Uncle, I will; you need urge that no more. But what's the virtue of this precious drink?

PRIOR. It keeps fresh youth, restores diseased sight, Helps nature's weakness, smooths the scars of wounds, And cools the entrails with a balmy breath, When they, by thirst or travail, boil with heat.

ROB. H. Uncle, I thank you: pray you, let me have A cup prepared 'gainst the king comes in, To cool his heat: myself will give it him.

PRIOR. And when he drinks, be bold to say, he drinks A richer draught than that dissolved pearl, Which Cleopatra drank to Antony.

ROB. H. I have much business: let it be your charge To make this rich draught ready for the king, And I will quit it; pray ye, do not fail. [Exit.

PRIOR. I warrant you, good nephew.

DON. Better and better still! We thought before but to have poison'd him, And now shall Robin Hood destroy the king. Even when the king, the queen, the prince, the lords, Joy in his virtues, this supposed vice Will turn to sharp hate their exceeding love.

PRIOR. Ha, ha, ha! I cannot choose but laugh, To see my cousin cozen'd in this sort. Fail him, quoth you; nay, hang me if I do. But, Doncaster, art sure the poisons are well-mix'd?

DON. Tut, tut! let me alone for the poisoning: I have already turn'd o'er four or five, That anger'd[270] me. But tell me, Prior, Wherefore so deadly dost thou hate thy cousin?

PRIOR. Shall I be plain? because, if he were dead, I should be made the Earl of Huntington.

DON. A pretty cause; but thou a churchman art.

PRIOR. Tut, man, if that would fall, I'll have a dispensation, and turn temporal. But tell me, Doncaster, why dost thou hate him?

DON. By the mass, I cannot tell. O yes, now I ha't: I hate thy cousin Earl of Huntington, Because so many love him as there do, And I myself am loved of so few. Nay, I have other reasons for my hate: He is a fool, and will be reconcil'd To any foe he hath: he is too mild, Too honest for this world, fitter for heaven. He will not kill these greedy cormorants, Nor strip base peasants of the wealth they have! He does abuse a thief's name and an outlaw's, And is, indeed, no outlaw nor no thief: He is unworthy of such reverend names. Besides, he keeps a paltry whimling[271] girl, And will not bed, forsooth, before he bride. I'll stand to't, he abuses maidenhead; That will not take it, being offered, Hinders the commonwealth of able men. Another thing I hate him for again: He says his prayers, fasts eves, gives alms, does good: For these and such like crimes swears Doncaster To work the speedy death of Robin Hood.

PRIOR. Well-said, i' faith. Hark, hark! the king returns; To do this deed my heart like fuel burns.

[Exeunt.

Wind horns. Enter KING, QUEEN, JOHN, FITZWATER, ELY, CHESTER, SALISBURY, LEICESTER, LITTLE JOHN, FRIAR TUCK, SCARLET, SCATHLOCK, and MUCH: FRIAR TUCK carrying a stag's head, dancing.

KING. Gramercy, Friar, for thy glee, Thou greatly hast contented me: What with thy sporting and thy game, I swear, I highly pleased am.

FRIAR. It was my master's whole desire That maiden, yeoman, swain, and friar, Their arts and wits should all apply For pleasure of your majesty.

QUEEN. Son Richard, look, I pray you, on the ring, That was about the neck of the last stag.

CHES. Was his name Scarlet, that shot off his neck?

JOHN. Chester, it was this honest fellow Scarlet: This is the fellow, and a yeoman bold As ever cours'd the swift hart on the mould.

KING. Friar, here's somewhat 'graved upon the ring; I pray thee read it: meanwhile, list to me.

[This while most compassing the FRIAR about the ring.

Scarlet and Scathlock, you bold brethren, Twelvepence a day I give each for his fee; And henceforth see ye live like honest men.

BOTH. We will, my liege, else let us die the death.

MUCH. A boon, a boon, upon my knee, Good King Richard, I beg of thee! For indeed, sir, the troth is, Much is my father, and he is one of your tenants, in King's Mill at Wakefield, all on a green:— O there dwelleth a jolly pinder, At Wakefield, all on a green.[272] Now I would have you, if you will do so much for me, to set me forward in the way of marriage to Jenny: the mill would not be cast away upon us.

KING. Much, be thou ever master of that mill: I give it thee for thine inheritance.

MUCH. Thanks, precious prince of courtesy. I'll to Jenny, and tell her of my lands, i'faith. [Exit.

JOHN. Here, Friar, here; here it begins.

FRIAR (reads). "When Harold Harefoot reigned king, About my neck he put this ring."

KING. In Harold's time? more than a hundred year Hath this ring been about this new-slain deer! I am sorry now it died; but let the same Head, ring and all, be sent to Nottingham, And in the castle kept for monument.[273]

FITZ. My liege, I heard an old tale long ago, That Harold, being Godwin's son of Kent,[274] When he had got fair England's government, Hunted for pleasure once within this wood, And singled out a fair and stately stag, Which foot to foot the king in running caught: And sure this was the stag.

KING. It was, no doubt.

CHES. But some, my lord, affirm That Julius Caesar, many years before, Took such a stag, and such a poesy writ.

KING. It should not be in Julius Caesar's time. There was no English used in this land Until the Saxons came; and this is writ In Saxon characters.

JOHN. Well, 'twas a goodly beast.

Enter ROBIN HOOD.

KING. How now, Earl Robert?

FRIAR. A forfeit, a forfeit, my liege lord! My master's laws are on record! The court-roll here your grace may see.

KING. I pray thee, Friar, read it me.[275]

FRIAR. One shall suffice, and this is he. No man, that cometh in this wood To feast or dwell with Robin Hood, Shall call him earl, lord, knight, or squire: He no such titles doth desire, But Robin Hood, plain Robin Hood, That honest yeoman stout and good, On pain of forfeiting a mark, That must be paid to me his clerk. My liege, my liege, this law you broke, Almost in the last word you spoke: That crime may not acquitted be, Till Friar Tuck receive his fee.

KING. There's more than twenty marks, mad Friar. [Casts him purse.

FRIAR. If thus you pay the clerk his hire, Oft may you forfeit, I desire. You are a perfect penitent, And well you do your wrong repent: For this your highness' liberal gift I here absolve you without shrift.

KING. Gramercies, Friar. Now, Robin Hood, Sith Robin Hood it needs must be, I was about to ask before, If thou didst see the great stag's fall.

ROB. H. I did, my lord, I saw it all; But missing this same prating friar, And hearing you so much desire To have the losel's company, I went to seek Small-Honesty.

FRIAR. But you found Much, when you found me.

ROB. H. Ay, Much my man; but not a jot Of honesty in thee, God wot.

QUEEN. Robin, you do abuse the Friar.

FRIAR. Madam, I dare not call him liar: He may be bold with me, he knows. How now, Prince John, how goes, how goes This woodman's life with you to-day? My fellow Woodnet you would be.

JOHN. I am thy fellow, thou dost see; And to be plain, as God me save, So well I like thee, merry knave, That I thy company must have: Nay, and I will.

FRIAR. Nay, and you shall.

ROB. H. My lord, you need not fear at all, But you shall have his company: He will be bold, I warrant you.