MARGARET
Yes, till her suit is answer'd.
SIR WALTER
Name it.
MARGARET
A little boon, and yet so great a grace,
She fears to ask it.
SIR WALTER
Some riddle, Margaret?
MARGARET
No riddle, but a plain request.
SIR WALTER
Name it.
MARGARET
Free liberty of Sherwood,
And leave to take her lot with you in the forest.
SIR WALTER
A scant petition, Margaret, but take it,
Seal'd with an old man's tears.—
Rise, daughter of Sir Rowland.
(Addresses them both.)
O you most worthy,
You constant followers of a man proscribed,
Following poor misery in the throat of danger;
Fast servitors to craz'd and penniless poverty,
Serving poor poverty without hope of gain;
Kind children of a sire unfortunate;
Green clinging tendrils round a trunk decay'd,
Which needs must bring on you timeless decay;
Fair living forms to a dead carcase join'd;—
What shall I say?
Better the dead were gather'd to the dead,
Than death and life in disproportion meet.—
Go, seek your fortunes, children.—