FITZ. No, John, I defy[243]
To stain my old hands in thy youthful blood.
JOHN. You will, Lord Ely; I am sure you will.
ELY. Be sure, young man, my age means thee no ill.
JOHN. O, you will have the praise, brave Robin Hood.
The lusty outlaw, lord of this large wood:
He'll lead a king's son prisoner to a king,
And bid the brother smite the brother dead.
ROB. H. My purpose you have much misconstrued:
Prince John, I would not for the wide world's wealth
Incense his majesty, but do my best
To mitigate his wrath, if he be mov'd.
JOHN. Will none of you? then, here's one I dare say,
That from his childhood knows how to betray:
Warman, will you not help to hinder all you may?
WAR. With what I have been, twit me not, my lord:
My old sins at my soul I do detest.
JOHN. Then, that he came this way Prince John was blest.
Forgive me, Ely; pardon me, Fitzwater:
And Robin, to thy hands myself I yield.
ROB. H. And as my heart from hurt I will thee shield.
Enter MUCH, running.