SCENE I.—Camp of King Edward.
Enter King Edward, James, King of Scots, Lord Warwick, Cuddy, and Train.
K. Edw. Brother of Scotland, I do hold it hard,
Seeing a league of truce was late confirm'd
'Twixt you and me, without displeasure offer'd
You should make such invasion in my land.
The vows of kings should be as oracles,
Not blemish'd with the stain of any breach;
Chiefly where fealty and homage willeth it.
K. James. Brother of England, rub not the sore afresh;
My conscience grieves me for my deep misdeed.
I have the worst; of thirty thousand men,
There 'scap'd not full five thousand from the field.
K. Edw. Gramercy, Musgrove, else it had gone hard:
Cuddy, I'll quite thee well ere we two part.
K. James. But had not his old father, William Musgrove,
Play'd twice the man, I had not now been here.
A stronger man I seldom felt before;
But one of more resolute valiance,
Treads not, I think, upon the English ground.
K. Edw. I wot well, Musgrove shall not lose his hire.
Cud, An it please your grace, my father was
Five-score and three at midsummer last past:
Yet had King Jamy been as good as George-a-Greene,
Yet Billy Musgrove would have fought with him.
K. Edw. As George-a-Greene!
I pray thee, Cuddy, let me question thee.
Much have I heard, since I came to my crown,
Many in manner of a proverb say,
"Were he as good as George-a-Greene, I would strike him sure:"
I pray thee, tell me, Cuddy, canst thou inform me,
What is that George-a-Greene?
Cud. Know, my lord, I never saw the man,
But mickle talk is of him in the country:
They say he is the Pinner of Wakefield town:
But for his other qualities, I let alone.
War. May it please your grace, I know the man too well.
K. Edw. Too well! why so, Warwick?
War. For once he swing'd me till my bones did ache.
K. Edw. Why, dares he strike an earl?
War. An earl, my lord! nay, he will strike a king,
Be it not King Edward. For stature he is fram'd
Like to the picture of stout Hercules,
And for his carriage passeth Robin Hood.
The boldest earl or baron of your land,
That offereth scath unto the town of Wakefield,
George will arrest his pledge unto the pound;
And whoso resisteth bears away the blows,
For he himself is good enough for three.
K. Edw. Why, this is wondrous: my Lord of Warwick,
Sore do I long to see this George-a-Greene.
But leaving him, what shall we do, my lord,
For to subdue the rebels in the north?
They are now marching up to Doncaster.—
Enter one with the Earl of Kendal prisoner.
Soft! who have we there?
Cud. Here is a traitor, the Earl of Kendal.
K. Edw. Aspiring traitor! how darest thou
Once cast thine eyes upon thy sovereign
That honour'd thee with kindness, and with favour?
But I will make thee buy this treason dear.
Ken. Good my lord,—
K. Edw. Reply not, traitor.—
Tell me, Cuddy, whose deed of honour
Won the victory against this rebel?
Cud. George-a-Greene, the Pinner of Wakefield.
K. Edw. George-a-Greene! now shall I hear news
Certain, what this Pinner is.
Discourse it briefly, Cuddy, how it befell.
Cud. Kendal and Bonfield, with Sir Gilbert Armstrong,
Came to Wakefield town disguis'd,
And there spoke ill of your grace;
Which George but hearing, fell'd them at his feet,
And, had not rescue come into the place,
George had slain them in his close of wheat.
K. Edw. But, Cuddy,
Canst thou not tell where I might give and grant
Something that might please
And highly gratify the Pinner's thoughts?
Cud. This at their parting George did say to me:
"If the king vouchsafe of this my service,
Then, gentle Cuddy, kneel upon thy knee,
And humbly crave a boon of him for me."
K. Edw. Cuddy, what is it?
Cud. It is his will your grace would pardon them,
And let them live, although they have offended.
K. Edw. I think the man striveth to be glorious.
Well, George hath crav'd it, and it shall be granted,
Which none but he in England should have gotten.—
Live, Kendal, but as prisoner,
So shalt thou end thy days within the Tower.
Ken. Gracious is Edward to offending subjects.
K. James. My Lord of Kendal, you're welcome to the court.
K. Edw. Nay, but ill-come as it falls out now;
Ay, ill-come indeed, were't not for George-a-Greene.
But, gentle king, for so you would aver,
And Edward's betters, I salute you both,
And here I vow by good Saint George,
You'll gain but little when your sums are counted.
I sore do long to see this George-a-Greene:
And for because I never saw the north,
I will forthwith go see it;
And for that to none I will be known, we will
Disguise ourselves and steal down secretly,
Thou and I, King James, Cuddy, and two or three,
And make a merry journey for a month.—
Away, then, conduct him to the Tower.—
Come on, King James, my heart must needs be merry,
If fortune makes such havoc of our foes. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.—Robin Hood's Retreat.
Enter Robin Hood, Maid Marian, Scarlet, and Much.
Rob. Why is not lovely Marian blithe of cheer?
What ails my leman,[311] that she gins to lour?
Say, good Marian, why art thou so sad?
Mar. Nothing, my Robin, grieves me to the heart
But, whensoever I do walk abroad,
I hear no songs but all of George-a-Greene;
Bettris, his fair leman, passeth me:
And this, my Robin, galls my very soul.
Rob. Content: what recks it us though George-a-Greene be stout,
So long as he doth proffer us no scath?
Envy doth seldom hurt but to itself;
And therefore, Marian, smile upon thy Robin.
Mar. Never will Marian smile upon her Robin,
Nor lie with him under the greenwood shade,
Till that thou go to Wakefield on a green,
And beat the Pinner for the love of me.
Rob. Content thee, Marian, I will ease thy grief,
My merry men and I will thither stray;
And here I vow that, for the love of thee,
I will beat George-a-Greene, or he shall beat me.
Scar. As I am Scarlet, next to Little John,
One of the boldest yeomen of the crew,
So will I wend with Robin all along,
And try this Pinner what he dares do.
Much. As I am Much, the miller's son,
That left my mill to go with thee,
And nill repent that I have done,
This pleasant life contenteth me;
In aught I may, to do thee good,
I'll live and die with Robin Hood.
Mar. And, Robin, Marian she will go with thee,
To see fair Bettris how bright she is of blee.[312]
Rob. Marian, thou shalt go with thy Robin.—
Bend up your bows, and see your strings be tight,
The arrows keen, and everything be ready,
And each of you a good bat on his neck,
Able to lay a good man on the ground.
Scar. I will have Friar Tuck's.
Much. I will have Little John's.
Rob. I will have one made of an ashen plank,
Able to bear a bout or two.—
Then come on, Marian, let us go;
For before the sun doth show the morning day,
I will be at Wakefield to see this Pinner, George-a-Greene.
[Exeunt.