A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 08

by Unknown

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.

KING. Know you, where-e'er a spring is nigh?
Fain would I drink, I am right dry.

ROB. H. I have a drink within my bower
Of pleasant taste and sovereign power:
My reverend uncle gives it me,
To give unto your majesty.

KING. I would be loth, indeed, being in heat
To drink cold water. Let us to thy bower.

ROB. H. Run, Friar, before,
And bid my uncle be in readiness.

FRIAR. Gone in a trice[276] on such good business.

[Exeunt omnes.

SCENE III.[277]

Enter MARIAN, with a white apron.

MAR. What, Much! What, Jenny! Much, I say!

MUCH. What's the matter, mistress?

MAR. I pray thee, see the fueller
Suffer the cook to want no wood.
Good Lord, where is this idle girl?
Why, Jenny!

JENNY (within). I come, forsooth.

MAR. I pray thee, bring the flowers forth.

MUCH. I'll go send her, mistress, and help the cooks, if they have any need.

MAR. Despatch, good Much. What, Jen, I say!

Enter JENNY.

MUCH. Hie ye, hie ye! she calls for life. [Exit MUCH.

MAR. Indeed, indeed, you do me wrong,
To let me cry, and call so long.

JEN. Forsooth, I straw'd[278] the dining bowers,
And smooth'd the walks with herbs and flowers.
The yeomen's tables I have spread,
Dress'd salts, laid trenchers, set on bread.
Nay, all is well, I warrant you.

MAR. You are not well, I promise you,
Your 'foresleeves are not pinn'd; fie, fie!
And all your head-gear stands awry.
Give me the flowers. Go in, for shame,
And quickly see you mend the same.

[Exit JENNY.

Enter SIR DONCASTER, PRIOR. MARIAN strewing flowers.

DON. How busy Mistress Marian is!
She thinks this is her day of bliss.

PRIOR. But it shall be the wofull'st day
That ever chanc'd her, if I may.

MAR. Why are you two thus in the air?
Your wounds are green. Good coz, have care.

PRIOR. Thanks for your kindness, gentle maid:
My cousin Robert us hath prayed
To help him in his business.

Enter FRIAR.

FRIAR. Sir Doncaster, Sir Doncaster!

DON. Holla!

FRIAR. I pray you, did you see the Prior?

PRIOR. Why, here I am. What wouldst thou. Friar?

FRIAR. The king is heated in the chase,
And posteth hitherward apace.
He told my master he was dry,
And he desires ye presently
To send the drink whereof ye spake.

PRIOR. Come, it is here: haste let us make.

[Exeunt DONCASTER, PRIOR, and FRIAR.

_Horns blow.

Enter_ KING, QUEEN, JOHN, SCARLET, SCATHLOCK,
ELY, FITZWATER, SALISBURY, CHESTER.

MARIAN kneels down.

MAR. Most gracious sovereign, welcome once again:
Welcome to you and all your princely train.

KING. Thanks, lovely hostess; we are homely guests.
Where's Robin Hood? he promis'd me some drink.

MAR. Your handmaid, Robin, will not then be long:
The Friar, indeed, came running to his uncle,
Who, with Sir Doncaster, were here with me,
And all together went for such a drink.

KING. Well, in a better time it could not come,
For I am very hot and passing dry.

Enter ROBIN HOOD, with a cup, a towel, leading
DONCASTER: TUCK and MUCH pulling the PRIOR.

ROB. H. Traitor! I'll draw thee out before the king.

FRIAR. Come, murderous Prior.

MUCH. Come, ye dog's face.

KING. Why, how now, Robin? Where's the drink you bring?

ROB. H. Lay hold on these!
Far be it I should bring your majesty
The drink these two prepared for your taste.

KING. Why, Robin Hood? be brief and answer me.
I am amazed at thy troubled looks.

ROB. H. Long will not my ill-looks amaze your grace;
I shortly look never to look again.

MAR. Never to look! What, will it still be night?
If thou look never, day can never be.
What ails my Robin? Wherefore dost thou faint?

ROB. H. Because I cannot stand: yet now I can.
[KING and MARIAN support him.
Thanks to my king, and thanks to Marian.

KING. Robin, be brief, and tell us what hath chanc'd.

ROB. H. I must be brief, for I am sure of death,
Before a long tale can be half-way told.

FITZ. Of death, my son! bright sun of all my joy!
Death cannot have the power of[279] virtuous life.

ROB. H. Not o'er[280] the virtues, but the life it can.

KING. What, dost thou speak of death? how shouldst thou die?

ROB. H. By poison and the Prior's treachery.

QUEEN. Why, take this sovereign powder at my hands:
Take it, and live in spite of poison's power.

DON. Ay, set him forward. Powders, quoth ye? hah!
I am a fool, then, if a little dust,
The shaving of a horn, a Bezoar stone,[281]
Or any antidote have power to stay
The execution of my heart's resolve.
Tut, tut! you labour, lovely queen, in vain,
And on a thankless groom your toil bestow.
Now hath your foe reveng'd you of your foe:
Robin shall die, if all the world said no.[282]

MAR. How the wolf howls! Fly, like a tender kid,
Into thy shepherd's bosom. Shield me, love!
Canst thou not, Robin? Where shall I be hid?
O God! these ravens will seize upon thy dove.

ROB. H. They cannot hurt thee; pray thee, do not fear:
Base curs will couch, the lion being near.

QUEEN. How works my powder?

ROB. H. Very well, fair queen.

KING. Dost thou feel any ease?

ROB. H. I shall, I trust, anon:
Sleep falls upon mine eyes. O, I must sleep,
And they that love me, do not waken me.

MAR. Sleep in my lap, and I will sing to thee.

JOHN. He should not sleep.

ROB. H. I must, for I must die;
While I live, therefore, let me have some rest.

FITZ. Ay, let him rest: the poison urges sleep.
When he awakes, there is no hope of life.

DON. Of life! Now, by the little time I have to live,
He cannot live one hour for your lives.

KING. Villain! what art thou?

DON. Why, I am a knight.

CHES. Thou wert indeed. If it so please your grace,
I will describe my knowledge of this wretch.

KING. Do, Chester.

CHES. This Doncaster, for so the felon hight,
Was by the king, your father, made a knight,
And well in arms he did himself behave.
Many a bitter storm the wind of rage
Blasted this realm within those woful days,
When the unnatural fights continued
Between your kingly father and his sons.
This cutthroat, knighted in that time of woe,
Seized on a beauteous nun at Berkhamstead,
As we were marching toward Winchester,
After proud Lincoln was compell'd to yield.
He took this virgin straying in the field—
For all the nuns and every covent[283] fled
The dangers that attended on our troops:
For those sad times too oft did testify,
War's rage hath no regard to piety—
She humbly pray'd him, for the love of heaven,
To guide her to her father's, two miles thence:
He swore he would, and very well he might,
For to the camp he was a forager.
Upon the way they came into a wood,
Wherein, in brief, he stripp'd this tender maid:
Whose lust, when she in vain had long withstood,
Being by strength and torments overlaid,
He did a sacrilegious deed of rape,
And left her bathed in her own tears and blood.
When she reviv'd, she to her father's got,
And got her father to make just complaint
Unto your mother, being then in camp.

QUEEN. Is this the villain, Chester, that defil'd
Sir Eustace Stutville's chaste and beauteous child?

DON. Ay, madam, this is he
That made a wench dance naked in a wood;
And, for she did deny what I desired,
I scourg'd her for her pride, till her fair skin
With stripes was checquer'd like a vintner's grate.[284]
And what was this? A mighty matter, sure!
I have a thousand more than she defil'd,
And cut the squeaking throats of some of them—
I grieve I did not hers.

QUEEN. Punish him, Richard.
A fairer virgin never saw the sun;
A chaster maid was never sworn a nun.

KING. How 'scaped the villain punishment that time?

FITZ. I rent his spurs off, and disgraded him.

CHES. And then he rail'd upon the Queen and me.
Being committed, he his keeper slew,
And to your father fled, who pardon'd him.

RICH. God give his soul a pardon for that sin.

SAL. O, had I heard his name or seen his face,
I had defended Robin from this chance!
Ah, villain! shut those gloomy lights of thine.
Remember'st thou a little son of mine,
Whose nurse at Wilton first thou ravishedst,
And slew'st two maids that did attend on them?

DON. I grant I dash'd the brains out of a brat—
Thine if he were, I care not: had he been
The first-born comfort of a royal king,
And should have yall'd, when Doncaster cried peace,
I would have done by him as then I did.

KING. Soon shall the world be rid of such a wretch.
Let him be hang'd alive in the highway
That joineth to the tower.[285]

DON. Alive or dead (I reck not how I die),
You, them, and these I desperately defy.

ELY. Repent, or never look to be absolv'd;
But die accurs'd, as thou deservest well.

DON. Then give me my desert: curse, one by one!

ELY. First I accurse thee; and if thou persist,
Unto damnation leave thee, wretched man.

DON. What do I care for your damnation?
Am I not doomed to death? what more damnation
Can there ensue your loud and yelling cries?

PRIOR. Yes, devil! hear thy fellow-spirit speak—
Who would repent; O, fain he would repent!—
After this body's bitter punishment,
There is an ever-during endless woe,
A quenchless fire, an unconsuming pain,
Which desperate souls and bodies must endure.

DON. Can you preach this, yet set me on, Sir Prior,
To run into this endless, quenchless fire?

PRIOR. High heavens, show mercy to my many ills!
Never had this been done, but like a fiend
Thou temptedst me with ceaseless devilish thoughts.
Therefore I curse with bitterness of soul
The hour wherein I saw thy baleful eyes.
My eyes I curse for looking on those eyes!
My ears I curse for hearkening to thy tongue!
I curse thy tongue for tempting of mine ears!
Each part I curse, that we call thine or mine;
Thine for enticing mine, mine following thine!

DON. A holy prayer. What collect have we next?

[This time ROBIN stirs.

FITZ. My Marian wanteth words, such is her woe;
But old Fitzwater, for his girl and him,
Begs nothing but world's plague for such a foe,
Which causeless harm'd a virtuous nobleman,
A pitier of his griefs, when he felt grief.
Therefore, bethink thee of thy hateful deed,
Thou faithless Prior, and thou this ruthless thief.

PRIOR. Will no man curse me, giving so much cause?
Then, Doncaster, ourselves ourselves accurse,
And let no good betide to thee or me!

[All the Yeomen, FRIAR, MUCH, JENNY cry.

ALL. Amen, amen! accursed may he be
For murdering Robin, flower of courtesy.

[ROBIN sits up.

ROB. H. O, ring not such a peal for Robin's death!
Let sweet forgiveness be my passing bell.
Art thou there, Marian? then fly forth, my breath:
To die within thy arms contents me well.

PRIOR. Keep in, keep in a little while thy soul,
Till I have pour'd my soul forth at thy feet.

ROB. H. I slept not, uncle; I your grief did hear,
Let him forgive thy soul that bought it dear:
Your body's deed I in my death forgive,
And humbly beg the king that you may live.
Stand to your clergy, uncle;[286] save your life,
And lead a better life than you have done.

PRIOR. O, gentle nephew! O, my brother's son,
Thou dying glory of old Huntington!
Wishest thou life to such a murderous foe?
I will not live, since thou must life forego.
O, happy Warman! blessed in thy end;
Now too-too late thy truth I do commend.
O, nephew, nephew! Doncaster and I
Murder'd poor Warman, for he did deny
To join with us in this black tragedy.

ROB. H. Alas, poor Warman! Friar, Little John,
I told ye both where Warman's body lay,
And of his burial I'll dispose anon.

KING. Is there no law, Lord Ely, to convict
This Prior, that confesses murders thus?

ELY. He is a hallow'd man, and must be tried
And punish'd by the censure of the church.

PRIOR. The church therein doth err: God doth allow
No canon to preserve a murderer's life.
Richard! King Richard! in thy grandsire's days
A law was made, the clergy sworn thereto,
That whatsoever churchman did commit
Treason or murder, or false felony,
Should like a secular be punished.
Treason we did, for sure we did intend
King Richard's poisoning, sovereign of this land.
Murder we did, in working Warman's end
And my dear nephew's by this fatal hand:
And theft we did, for we have robb'd the king,
The state, the nobles, commons, and his men,
Of a true peer, firm pillar, liberal lord.
Fitzwater we have robbed of a kind son,
And Marian's love-joys we have quite undone.

DON. Whoop! what a coil is here with your confession!

PRIOR. I ask but judgment for my foul transgression.

KING. Thy own mouth hath condemn'd thee.
Hence with him!
Hang this man dead, then see him buried;
But let the other hang alive in chains.

DON. I thank you, sir.

[Exeunt Yeomen, FRIAR, Prisoners, MUCH.

JOHN. Myself will go, my lord,
And see sharp justice done upon these slaves.

ROB. H. O, go not hence, Prince John! a word or two,
Before I die, I fain would say to you.

KING. Robin, we see what we are sad to see—
Death, like a champion, treading down thy life:
Yet in thy end, somewhat to comfort thee,
We freely give to thy betrothed wife,
Beauteous and chaste Matilda, all those lands,
Fallen by thy folly to the Prior's hands,
And by his fault now forfeited to me.
Earl Huntington, she shall thy countess be:
And thy wight yeomen, they shall wend with me
Against the faithless enemies of Christ.

ROB. H. Bring forth a bier, and cover it with green;
That on my deathbed I may here sit down.
[A bier is brought in. He sits.
At Robin's burial let no black be seen,
Let no hand give for him a mourning gown;
For in his death his king hath given him life
By this large gift, given to his maiden wife.
Chaste maid Matilda, countess of account,
Chase with thy bright eyes all these clouds of woe
From these fair cheeks; I pray thee, sweet, do so:
Think it is bootless folly to complain
For that which never can be had again.
Queen Elinor, you once were Matilda's foe;
Prince John, you long sought her unlawful love:
Let dying Robin Hood entreat you both
To change those passions: madam, turn your hate
To princely love: Prince John, convert your love
To virtuous passion, chaste and moderate.
O, that your gracious right hands would enfold
Matilda's right hand, prison'd in my palm,
And swear to do what Robin Hood desires!

QUEEN. I swear I will: I will a mother be
To fair Matilda's life and chastity.

JOHN. When John solicits chaste Matilda's ears
With lawless suits, as he hath often done,
Or offers to the altars of her eyes
Lascivious poems, stuff'd with vanities,
He craves to see but short and sour days:
His death be like to Robin's he desires;
His perjured body prove a poison'd prey
For cowled monks and barefoot begging friars.

ROB. H. Enough, enough! Fitzwater, take your child.
My dying frost, which no sun's heat can thaw,
Closes the powers of all my outward parts:
My freezing blood runs back unto my heart,
Where it assists death, which it would resist:
Only my love a little hinders death,
For he beholds her eyes, and cannot smite:
Then go not yet, Matilda, stay awhile.
Friar, make speed, and list my latest will.

MAT. O, let me look for ever in thy eyes,
And lay my warm breath to thy bloodless lips,
If my sight can restrain death's tyrannies,
Or keep life's breath within thy bosom lock'd.

ROB. H. Away, away!
Forbear, my love; all this is but delay.

FITZ. Come, maiden daughter, from my maiden son,
And give him leave to do what must be done.

ROB. H. First, I bequeath my soul to all souls Sav'our,
And will my body to be buried
At Wakefield, underneath the abbey wall;
And in this order make my funeral.
When I am dead, stretch me upon this bier!
My beads and primer shall my pillow be;
On this side be my bow, my good shafts here;
Upon my breast the cross, and underneath
My trusty sword, thus fasten'd in the sheath.
Let Warman's body at my feet be laid,
Poor Warman, that in my defence did die.
For holy dirges sing me woodmen's songs,
As ye to Wakefield walk with voices shrill.
This for myself. My goods and plate I give
Among my yeomen: them I do bestow
Upon my sovereign Richard. This is all.
My liege, farewell! my love, farewell, farewell!
Farewell, fair Queen, Prince John, and noble lords!
Father Fitzwater, heartily adieu!
Adieu, my yeomen tall. Matilda, close mine eyes.
Friar, farewell! farewell to all!

MAT. O, must my hands with envious death conspire
To shut the morning gates of my life's light!

FITZ. It is a duty and thy love's desire!
I'll help thee, girl, to close up Robin's sight.[287]

KING. Laments are bootless, tears cannot restore
Lost life, Matilda; therefore weep no more:
And since our mirth is turned into moan,
Our merry sport to tragic funeral,
We will prepare our power for Austria,
After Earl Robert's timeless burial.
Fall to your wood-songs, therefore, yeomen bold.
And deck his hearse with flowers, that loved you dear:
Dispose his goods as he hath them dispos'd.
Fitzwater and Matilda, bide you here.
See you the body unto Wakefield borne:
A little we will bear ye company,
But all of us at London 'point to meet:
Thither, Fitzwater, bring Earl Robin's men;
And, Friar, see you come along with them.

FRIAR. Ah, my liege lord! the Friar faints,
And hath no words to make complaints:
But since he must forsake this place,
He will await, and thanks your grace.

_Song.

Weep, weep, ye woodmen, wail,
Your hands with sorrow wring;
Your master Robin Hood lies dead,
Therefore sigh as you sing.

Here lie his primer and his beads,
His bent bow and his arrows keen,
His good sword and his holy cross:
Now cast on flowers fresh and green;

And as they fall, shed tears and say,
Wella, wella-day! wella, wella-day:
Thus cast ye flowers and sing,
And on to Wakefield take your way_.

[Exeunt.

FRIAR. Here doth the Friar leave with grievance;
Robin is dead, that graced his entrance,
And being dead, he craves his audience
With this short play they would have patience.[288]

Enter CHESTER.

CHES. Nay, Friar, at the request of thy kind friend,
Let not thy play too soon be at an end.
Though Robin Hood be dead, his yeomen gone,
And that thou think'st there now remains not one
To act another scene or two for thee,
Yet know full well, to please this company,
We mean to end Matilda's tragedy.

FRIAR. Off then, I wish you, with your Kendal green;
Let not sad grief in fresh array be seen.
Matilda's story is replete with tears,
Wrongs, desolations, ruins, deadly fears.
In, and attire ye. Though I tired be,
Yet will I tell my mistress' tragedy.
Apollo's masterdom[289] I invocate,
To whom henceforth my deeds I dedicate;
That of his godhead, 'bove all gods divine,
With his rich spirit he would lighten mine:
That I may sing true lays of trothless deeds,
Which to conceive my heart through sorrow bleeds,
Cheer thee, sad soul, and in a lofty line
Thunder out wrong, compass'd in cloudy tears:

[Enter in black.[290]

Show to the eyes, fill the beholders' ears,
With all the lively acts of lustful rage,
Restrain'd by modest tears and chastity's intreats:
And let King John, that ill-part[291] personage,
By suits, devices, practices, and threats,
And when he sees all serveth to no end,
Of chaste Matilda let him make an end.

CHO. We are all fitted, Friar: shall we begin?

FRIAR. Well art thou suited: would my order would
Permit me habit equal to my heart!

CHO. If you remember, John did take an oath
Never again to seek Matilda's love.

FRIAR. O, what is he, that's sworn affection's slave,
That will not violate all laws, all oaths?
And, being mighty, what will he omit
To compass his intents, though ne'er so ill?—
You must suppose King Richard now is dead,
And John, resistless, is fair England's lord
Who, striving to forget Matilda's love,
Takes to his wife the beauteous Isabel,
Betroth'd to Hugh le Brun, Earl of North-March:[292]
And picking quarrels under show of kin,
Wholly divorces his first queen away.
But yet Matilda still-still troubles him,
And being in the court, so oft he courts her,
That by her noble father, old Fitzwater,
She is remov'd from his lust-tempting eye.
But tides restrain'd o'erswell their bounds with rage:
Her absence adds more fuel to his fire.
In sleep he sees her, and his waking thoughts
Study by day to compass his desire.

CHO. Friar, since now you speak of visions,
It was received by tradition
From those that were right near unto King John,
Of three strange visions that to him appear'd;
And, as I guess, I told you what they were.

FRIAR. With them I will begin. Draw but that veil,
And there King John sits sleeping in his chair.

[Draw the curtain: the king sits sleeping, his sword by his side. Enter Austria, before whom cometh Ambition, and bringing him before the chair, King John in sleep maketh signs to avoid, and holdeth his own crown fast with both his hands.

FRIAR. Ambition, that had ever waited on King John,
Now brings him Austria, easy to be ta'en,
Being wholly tam'd by Richard's warlike hand.
And bids him add that dukedom to his crown:
But he puts by Ambition, and contemns
All other kingdoms but the English crown,
Which he holds fast, as if he would not loose[293].

[Enter Constance, leading Young Arthur: both offer to take the crown; but with his foot he overturneth them: to them cometh Insurrection, led by the F.K. and L.[294] menacing him, and leads the child again to the chair; but he only layeth hand on his sword, and with his foot overthroweth the child, whom they take up as dead; and, Insurrection flying, they mournfully bear in the body.

FRIAR. The lady and the child that did ascend,
Striving in vain to take the crown from John,
Were Constance and her son the Duke of Britain,
Heir to the elder brother of the king:
Yet he sleeps on, and with a little spurn
The mother and the prince doth overturn.
Again, when Insurrection them assists,
Stirr'd by the French king and the wronged earl,
Whose troth-plight wife King John had ta'en to wife,
He only claps his hand upon his sword,
Mocketh their threatenings, and in their attempts
The harmless prince receives recureless death,
Whom they too late with bootless tears lament.

[Enter Queen with two Children, borne after her: she ascends, and seeing no motion, she fetcheth her children one by one; but seeing yet no motion, she descendeth, wringing her hands, and departeth. Enter Matilda in a mourning veil, reading on a book, at whose coming he starteth, and sitteth upright; as she passeth by, he smiles, and folds his arms as if he did embrace her: being gone, he starts suddenly, and speaks.

KING. Matilda! stay, Matilda, do but speak!
Who's there? Entreat Matilda to come back.

Enter BONVILLE[295].

BON. Who would you have, my lord?

KING. Why, my Lord Bonville, I would have Matilda,
That but even now pass'd by toward the door.

BON. I saw her not, my lord.

KING. Hadst thou a lover's eye,
A gnat, a mote, a shadow thou wouldst spy.
Come, follow me; she cannot be so far,
But I shall overtake her: come away!
[Exeunt.

FRIAR. The last appearance shadow'd the fair queen
And her two children, at whose sight King John
Shewed neither sign nor show of passion:
But when the sun came masked in a cloud,
And veiled beauty, join'd with chastity,
Appeared in Matilda's lovely shape,
He starts, he clasps, he wakes, he calls, he seeks
The shadow of that substance he affects.
To her he sues, but she his suit rejects;
To him she sues, but he her suit neglects:
He sues to be her love; she doth despise:
She sues to live a maid, which he denies.
What follows of this wilfull will and shall,
This no and nay, this quenchless, bootless fire,
This cold affection and this hot desire,
The act itself shall tell; and the poor friar
Your partial favours humbly doth require.
[Exit.