I picture it—those big brown hands of thine
Grape-gathering at their throttles, ha! ha! ha!
Come, Widow Scarlet, come, look not so sad.
WIDOW SCARLET
O master, master, they have named the day
For killing of my boy.
ROBIN
They have named the day
For setting of him free, then, my good dame.
Be not afraid. We shall be there, eh, Friar?
Grape-gathering, eh?
FRIAR
Thou'lt not be there thyself.
My son, the game's too dangerous now, methinks.
ROBIN
I shall be there myself. The game's too good
To lose. We'll all be there. You're not afraid,
Marian, to spend a few short hours alone
Here in the woods with Jenny.
MARIAN