“—Hun­ting­ton is excommunicate,

And till his debts be paid, by Rome’s decree,

It is agreed, absolv’d he cannot be;

And that can never be.—So never wife,” &c.

Fitzwater, on this, flies into a passion, and accuses the prince of being already married to “earle Chepstowe’s daughter.” They “fight; John falles.” Then enter the queen, &c., and John sentences Fitzwater to banishment: after which “Enter Scathlocke and Scarlet, winding their hornes at severall doores. To them enter Robin Hoode, Matilda, all in greene . . . Much, little John; all the men with bowes and arrowes.[43]

“Rob. Wind once more, jolly huntsmen, all your horns,

Whose shrill sound, with the ecchoing wods assist,

Shall ring a sad knell for the fearefull deere,

Before our feathered shafts, death’s winged darts,

Bring sodaine summons for their fatall ends. {lvii}

Scar. Its ful seaven years since we were outlawed first,

And wealthy Sherewood was our heritage:

For all those yeares we raigned uncontrolde,

From Barnsdale shrogs to Notingham’s red cliffes.

At Blithe and Tickhill were we welcome guests:

Good George a Greene at Bradford was our friend,

And wanton Wakefield’s pinner lov’d us well.[44]

At Barnsley dwels a potter, tough and strong,

That never brookt we brethren should have wrong.

The nunnes of Farnsfield (pretty nunnes they bee)

Gave napkins, shirts, and bands to him and mee.

Bateman of Kendall gave us Kendall greene;

And Sharpe of Leedes sharpe arrows for us made.

At Rotherham dwelt our bowyer, God him blisse,

Jackson he hight, his bowes did never misse.

This for our goode, our scathe let Scathlocke tell,

In merry Mansfield how it once befell.

Scath. In merry Mansfield, on a wrestling day,

Prizes there were, and yeomen came to play,

My brother Scarlet and myselfe were twaine;

Many resisted, but it was in vaine,

For of them all we wonne the mastery,

And the gilt wreathes were given to him and me.

There by Sir Doncaster of ‘Hothersfield,’

We were bewraied, beset, and forst to yield;

And so borne bound from thence to Notingham,

Where we lay doom’d to death till Warman came.”

Some cordial expressions pass between Robin and Matilda. He commands all the yeomen to be cheerful; and orders Little John to read the articles.

“Joh. First, no man must presume to call our master,

By name of earle, lorde, baron, knight, or squire:

But simply by the name of Robin Hoode.

That faire Matilda henceforth change her name,

‘And’ by maid Marian’s name be only cald.

Thirdly, no yeoman following Robin Hoode

In Sherewood, shall use widowe, wife, or maid,

But by true labour, lustfull thoughts expell.

Fourthly, no passenger with whom ye meete,

Shall yee let passe till hee with Robin feaste:

Except a poast, a carrier, or such folke,

As use with foode to serve the market townes.

Fiftly, you never shall the poore man wrong. {lviii}

Nor spare a priest, a usurer, or a clarke.

Lastly, you shall defend with all your power

Maids, widowes, orphants, and distressed men.

All. All these we vowe to keepe, as we are men.

Rob. Then wend ye to the greenewod merrily,

And let the light roes bootlesse from yee runne,

Marian and I, as soveraigns of your toyles,

Will wait, within our bower, your bent bowes spoiles.

[Exeunt winding their hornes.”

In the next scene, we find Frier Tucke feignedly entering into a conspiracy with the prior and Sir Doncaster to serve an execution on Robin in disguise. Jinny, the widow Scarlet’s daughter, coming in on her way to Sherwood, is persuaded by the frier to accompany him, “disguised in habit like a pedler’s mort.” Fitzwater enters like an old man:—sees Robin sleeping on a green bank, Marian strewing flowers on him; pretends to be blind and hungry, and is regaled by them. In answer to a question why the fair Matilda (Fitzwater’s daughter) had changed her name, Robin tells him it is

“Because she lives a spotlesse maiden life:

And shall, till Robin’s outlawe life have ende,

That he may lawfully take her to wife;

Which, if King Richard come, will not be long.”

“Enter Frier Tucke and Jinny like pedlers singing,” and afterward “Sir Doncaster and others weaponed.” The frier discovers the plot, and a fray ensues. The scene then changes to the court, where the prior is informed of six of his barns being destroyed by fire, and of the different execrations of all ranks upon him, as the undoer of “the good lord Robert, earle of Hun­ting­ton;” that the convent of St. Mary’s had elected “Olde father Jerome” prior in his place; and lastly, a herald brings his sentence of banishment, which is confirmed by the entrance of the prior. Lester brings an account of the imprisonment of his gallant sovereign, King Richard, by the Duke of Austria, and requires his ransom to be sent. He then introduces a description of his matchless valour in the Holy Land. John not only refuses the ransom-money, but usurps the style of king; upon which Lester grows furious, {lix} and rates the whole company. The following is part of the dialogue:

“Joh. (to Lester). Darest thou attempt thus proudly in our sight?

Lest. What is’t a subject dares, that I dare not?

Sals. Dare subjects dare, their soveraigne being by?

Lest. O God, that my true soveraigne were ny!

Qu. Lester, he is.

Lest. Madame, by God, you ly.

Chest. Unmanner’d man.

Lest. A plague of reverence!”

After this, and more on the same subject, the scene returns to the forest, where Ely, being taken by Much, “like a countryman with a basket,” is examined and detected by Robin, who promises him protection and service. On their departure: