ACT THE FOURTH
SCENE I.—Camp of King Edward.
Enter King Edward, James, King of Scots, Lord Warwick, Cuddy, and Train.
K. Edw. Brother of Scotland, I do hold it hard,
Seeing a league of truce was late confirm'd
'Twixt you and me, without displeasure offer'd
You should make such invasion in my land.
The vows of kings should be as oracles,
Not blemish'd with the stain of any breach;
Chiefly where fealty and homage willeth it.
K. James. Brother of England, rub not the sore afresh;
My conscience grieves me for my deep misdeed.
I have the worst; of thirty thousand men,
There 'scap'd not full five thousand from the field.
K. Edw. Gramercy, Musgrove, else it had gone hard:
Cuddy, I'll quite thee well ere we two part.
K. James. But had not his old father, William Musgrove,
Play'd twice the man, I had not now been here.
A stronger man I seldom felt before;
But one of more resolute valiance,
Treads not, I think, upon the English ground.
K. Edw. I wot well, Musgrove shall not lose his hire.
Cud, An it please your grace, my father was
Five-score and three at midsummer last past:
Yet had King Jamy been as good as George-a-Greene,
Yet Billy Musgrove would have fought with him.
K. Edw. As George-a-Greene!
I pray thee, Cuddy, let me question thee.
Much have I heard, since I came to my crown,
Many in manner of a proverb say,
"Were he as good as George-a-Greene, I would strike him sure:"
I pray thee, tell me, Cuddy, canst thou inform me,
What is that George-a-Greene?
Cud. Know, my lord, I never saw the man,
But mickle talk is of him in the country:
They say he is the Pinner of Wakefield town:
But for his other qualities, I let alone.
War. May it please your grace, I know the man too well.
K. Edw. Too well! why so, Warwick?
War. For once he swing'd me till my bones did ache.
K. Edw. Why, dares he strike an earl?
War. An earl, my lord! nay, he will strike a king,
Be it not King Edward. For stature he is fram'd
Like to the picture of stout Hercules,
And for his carriage passeth Robin Hood.
The boldest earl or baron of your land,
That offereth scath unto the town of Wakefield,
George will arrest his pledge unto the pound;
And whoso resisteth bears away the blows,
For he himself is good enough for three.
K. Edw. Why, this is wondrous: my Lord of Warwick,
Sore do I long to see this George-a-Greene.
But leaving him, what shall we do, my lord,
For to subdue the rebels in the north?
They are now marching up to Doncaster.—
Enter one with the Earl of Kendal prisoner.
Soft! who have we there?
Cud. Here is a traitor, the Earl of Kendal.
K. Edw. Aspiring traitor! how darest thou
Once cast thine eyes upon thy sovereign
That honour'd thee with kindness, and with favour?
But I will make thee buy this treason dear.
Ken. Good my lord,—
K. Edw. Reply not, traitor.—
Tell me, Cuddy, whose deed of honour
Won the victory against this rebel?
Cud. George-a-Greene, the Pinner of Wakefield.
K. Edw. George-a-Greene! now shall I hear news
Certain, what this Pinner is.
Discourse it briefly, Cuddy, how it befell.
Cud. Kendal and Bonfield, with Sir Gilbert Armstrong,
Came to Wakefield town disguis'd,
And there spoke ill of your grace;
Which George but hearing, fell'd them at his feet,
And, had not rescue come into the place,
George had slain them in his close of wheat.
K. Edw. But, Cuddy,
Canst thou not tell where I might give and grant
Something that might please
And highly gratify the Pinner's thoughts?
Cud. This at their parting George did say to me:
"If the king vouchsafe of this my service,
Then, gentle Cuddy, kneel upon thy knee,
And humbly crave a boon of him for me."
K. Edw. Cuddy, what is it?
Cud. It is his will your grace would pardon them,
And let them live, although they have offended.
K. Edw. I think the man striveth to be glorious.
Well, George hath crav'd it, and it shall be granted,
Which none but he in England should have gotten.—
Live, Kendal, but as prisoner,
So shalt thou end thy days within the Tower.
Ken. Gracious is Edward to offending subjects.
K. James. My Lord of Kendal, you're welcome to the court.
K. Edw. Nay, but ill-come as it falls out now;
Ay, ill-come indeed, were't not for George-a-Greene.
But, gentle king, for so you would aver,
And Edward's betters, I salute you both,
And here I vow by good Saint George,
You'll gain but little when your sums are counted.
I sore do long to see this George-a-Greene:
And for because I never saw the north,
I will forthwith go see it;
And for that to none I will be known, we will
Disguise ourselves and steal down secretly,
Thou and I, King James, Cuddy, and two or three,
And make a merry journey for a month.—
Away, then, conduct him to the Tower.—
Come on, King James, my heart must needs be merry,
If fortune makes such havoc of our foes. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.—Robin Hood's Retreat.
Enter Robin Hood, Maid Marian, Scarlet, and Much.
Rob. Why is not lovely Marian blithe of cheer?
What ails my leman,[311] that she gins to lour?
Say, good Marian, why art thou so sad?
Mar. Nothing, my Robin, grieves me to the heart
But, whensoever I do walk abroad,
I hear no songs but all of George-a-Greene;
Bettris, his fair leman, passeth me:
And this, my Robin, galls my very soul.
Rob. Content: what recks it us though George-a-Greene be stout,
So long as he doth proffer us no scath?
Envy doth seldom hurt but to itself;
And therefore, Marian, smile upon thy Robin.
Mar. Never will Marian smile upon her Robin,
Nor lie with him under the greenwood shade,
Till that thou go to Wakefield on a green,
And beat the Pinner for the love of me.
Rob. Content thee, Marian, I will ease thy grief,
My merry men and I will thither stray;
And here I vow that, for the love of thee,
I will beat George-a-Greene, or he shall beat me.
Scar. As I am Scarlet, next to Little John,
One of the boldest yeomen of the crew,
So will I wend with Robin all along,
And try this Pinner what he dares do.
Much. As I am Much, the miller's son,
That left my mill to go with thee,
And nill repent that I have done,
This pleasant life contenteth me;
In aught I may, to do thee good,
I'll live and die with Robin Hood.
Mar. And, Robin, Marian she will go with thee,
To see fair Bettris how bright she is of blee.[312]
Rob. Marian, thou shalt go with thy Robin.—
Bend up your bows, and see your strings be tight,
The arrows keen, and everything be ready,
And each of you a good bat on his neck,
Able to lay a good man on the ground.
Scar. I will have Friar Tuck's.
Much. I will have Little John's.
Rob. I will have one made of an ashen plank,
Able to bear a bout or two.—
Then come on, Marian, let us go;
For before the sun doth show the morning day,
I will be at Wakefield to see this Pinner, George-a-Greene.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.—At Bradford.
A Shoemaker discovered at work: enter Jenkin, carrying a staff.[313]
Jen. My masters, he that hath neither meat nor money, and hath lost his credit with the alewife, for anything I know, may go supperless to bed.—But, soft! who is here? here is a shoemaker; he knows where is the best ale.—Shoemaker, I pray thee tell me, where is the best ale in the town?
Shoe. Afore, afore, follow thy nose; at the sign of the Egg-shell.
Jen. Come, shoemaker, if thou wilt, and take thy part of a pot.
Shoe. [coming forward]. Sirrah, down with your staff, down with your staff.
Jen. Why, how now! is the fellow mad? I pray thee tell me, why should I hold down my staff?
Shoe. You will down with him, will you not, sir?
Jen. Why, tell me wherefore?
Shoe. My friend, this is the town of merry Bradford, and here is a custom held, that none shall pass with his staff on his shoulders but he must have a bout with me; and so shall you, sir.
Jen. And so will I not, sir.
Shoe. That will I try. Barking dogs bite not the sorest.
Jen. [aside]. I would to God I were once well rid of him.
Shoe. Now, what, will you down with your staff?
Jen. Why, you are not in earnest? are you?
Shoe. If I am not, take that. [Strikes him.
Jen. You whoreson, cowardly scab, it is but the part of a clapperdudgeon[314] to strike a man in the street. But darest thou walk to the town's end with me?
Shoe. Ay, that I dare do; but stay till I lay in my tools, and I will go with thee to the town's end presently.
Jen. [aside]. I would I knew how to be rid of this fellow.
Shoe. Come, sir, will you go to the town's end now, sir?
Jen. Ay, sir, come.—
[Scene changes to the town's end].
Now we are at the town's end, what say you now?
Shoe. Marry, come, let us even have a bout.
Jen. Ha, stay a little; hold thy hands, I pray thee.
Shoe. Why, what's the matter?
Jen. Faith, I am Under-pinner of a town, and there is an order, which if I do not keep, I shall be turned out of mine office.
Shoe. What is that, sir?
Jen. Whensoever I go to fight with anybody, I use to flourish my staff thrice about my head before I strike, and then show no favour.
Shoe. Well, sir, and till then I will not strike thee.
Jen. Well, sir, here is once, twice:—here is my hand, I will never do it the third time.
Shoe. Why, then, I see we shall not fight.
Jen. Faith, no: come, I will give thee two pots of the best ale, and be friends.
Shoe. [aside]. Faith, I see it is as hard to get water out of a flint as to get him to have a bout with me: therefore I will enter into him for some good cheer.—My friend, I see thou art a faint-hearted fellow, thou hast no stomach to fight, therefore let us go to the ale-house and drink.
Jen. Well, content: go thy ways, and say thy prayers, thou 'scapest my hands to-day. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.—At Wakefield.
Enter George-a-Greene and Bettris.
Geo. Tell me, sweet love, how is thy mind content?
What, canst thou brook to live with George-a-Greene?
Bet. O, George, how little pleasing are these words!
Came I from Bradford for the love of thee,
And left my father for so sweet a friend?
Here will I live until my life do end.
Geo. Happy am I to have so sweet a love.—
But what are these come tracing here along?
Bet. Three men come striking through the corn, my love.
Enter Robin Hood, Maid Marian, Scarlet and Much.
Geo. Back again, you foolish travellers,
For you are wrong, and may not wend this way.
Rob. That were great shame. Now, by my soul, proud sir,
We be three tall[315] yeomen, and thou art but one.—
Come, we will forward in despite of him.
Geo. Leap the ditch, or I will make you skip.
What, cannot the highway serve your turn,
But you must make a path over the corn?
Rob. Why, art thou mad? dar'st thou encounter three?
We are no babes, man, look upon our limbs.
Geo. Sirrah, the biggest limbs have not the stoutest hearts.
Were ye as good as Robin Hood and his three merry men,
I'll drive you back the same way that ye came.
Be ye men, ye scorn to encounter me all at once;
But be ye cowards, set upon me all three,
And try the Pinner what he dares perform.
Scar. Were thou as high in deeds
As thou art haughty in words,
Thou well might'st be a champion for the king:
But empty vessels have the loudest sounds,
And cowards prattle more than men of worth.
Geo. Sirrah, darest thou try me?
Scar. Ay, sirrah, that I dare.
[They fight, and George-a-Greene beats him.
Much. How now! what, art thou down?—
Come, sir, I am next.
[They fight, and George-a-Greene beats him.
Rob. Come, sirrah, now to me: spare me not,
For I'll not spare thee.
Ge. Make no doubt I will be as liberal to thee.
[They fight; Robin Hood stays.
Rob. Stay, George, for here I do protest,
Thou art the stoutest champion that ever I
Laid hands upon.
Geo. Soft, you sir! by your leave, you lie;
You never yet laid hands on me.
Rob. George, wilt thou forsake Wakefield,
And go with me?
Two liveries will I give thee every year,
And forty crowns shall be thy fee.[316]
Geo. Why, who art thou?
Rob. Why, Robin Hood:
I am come hither with my Marian
And these my yeomen for to visit thee.
Geo. Robin Hood!
Next to King Edward art thou lief[317] to me.
Welcome, sweet Robin; welcome, Maid Marian;
And welcome, you my friends. Will you to my poor house?
You shall have wafer-cakes your fill,
A piece of beef hung up since Martlemas,
Mutton and veal: if this like you not,
Take that you find, or that you bring, for me.
Rob. Godamercies, good George,
I'll be thy guest to-day.
Geo. Robin, therein thou honourest me.
I'll lead the way. [Exeunt.