Then let him die!

JOHN

Oh, ay, but do you mean it, mother?

ELINOR

God,
I hate him, hate him!

JOHN

Mother, he goes at noon
To Sherwood Forest, with a bag of gold
For some of his old followers. If, by chance
He fall—how saith the Scripture?—among thieves
And vanish—is not heard of any more,
I think Suspicion scarce could lift her head
Among these roses here to hiss at me,
When Lion-Heart returns.

ELINOR

Vanish?

JOHN