[Will Scarlet comes out of the hut with his arm round his mother. They all sit down at the table of turfs. Enter Shadow-of-a-Leaf timidly.]
SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF
Is there a place for me?
A FORESTER
Ay, come along!
FRIAR TUCK
Now, Robin, don't forget the grace, my son.
ROBIN
[Standing up.]
It is our custom, sir, since our repast
Is borrowed from the King, to drain one cup
To him, and his return from the Crusade,
Before we dine. That same wine-bibbing friar
Calls it our 'grace'; and constitutes himself
Remembrancer—without a cause, for never
Have we forgotten, never while bugles ring
Thro' Sherwood, shall forget—Outlaws, the King!