SCARLETT.
Well, Bess or no Bess, the maypole is waiting! Play us another catch, goodfellow Faunch! My heels grow rusty!
[All start to dance.
ROBIN
(bursting in from right, followed by Kit Carmel).
Simon! Simon! You'll not dance so gaily when you've heard the news! Put up your music, Faunch! Give over your capers, Lackleather! Bess hath been taken by the Puritans!
[General consternation.
SCARLETT
(as all stop dancing).
You're jesting, lad!
ROBIN
(as he catches breath).
'Tis no jest, Simon! 'Tis bitter truth. 'Tis towards the stocks they are leading her!