The king, upon the earl’s death, expresses his sorrow for the tragical event; ratifies the will; repeats the directions for the funeral; and says,
“Fall to your wod-songs, therefore, yeomen bold,
And deck his herse with flowers, that lov’d you deere.”
The whole concludes with the following solemn dirge:
“Weepe, weepe, ye wod-men waile,
Your hands with sorrow wring;
Your master Robin Hood lies deade,
Therefore sigh as you sing. {lxv}
“Here lies his primer, and his beades,
His bent bowe, and his arrowes keene,
His good sworde and his holy crosse:
Now cast on flowers fresh and greene.
“And, as they fall, shed teares and say,
Well a, well a day, well a, well a day!
Thus cast yee flowers and sing,
And on to Wakefield take your way.”
The poet then prosecutes the legend of Matilda, who is finally poisoned, by the procurement of King John, in Dunmow Priory.
The story of this lady, whom the author of these plays is supposed to have been the first that converted into the character of Maid Marian, or connected in any shape with the history of Robin Hood, is thus related by Stow, under the year 1213: “The chronicle of Dunmow sayth, this discord arose betwixt the king and his barons, because of Mawd called the faire, daughter to Robert Fitzwalter, whome the king loved, but her father would not consent; and thereupon ensued warre throughout England. . . . . . Whilst Mawd the faire remayned at Dunmow, there came a messenger unto her from King John about his suite in love, but because she would not agree, the messenger poysoned a boyled or potched egge against she was hungrie, whereof she died” (Annales, 1592). Two of Drayton’s heroical epistles pass between King John and Matilda. He has also written her legend.
4. “Robin Hood’s penn’orths, by Wm. Haughton.” [50]
5. “Metropolis coronata, the triumphs of ancient drapery: or, rich cloathing of England, in a second yeeres performance. In honour of the advancement of Sir John Jolles, knight, to the high office of lord maior of London, and taking his oath for the same authoritie, on Monday being the 30. day of October, 1615. Performed in heartie affection to him, and at the bountifull charges of his worthy brethren the truely honourable society of drapers, the first that received such dignitie, in this citie. Devised and written by A. M. {lxvi} [Anthony Mundy] citizen and draper of London.” 1615, 4to.
This is one of the pageants formerly usual on Lord Mayor’s day, and of which several are extant, written as well by our author Mundy,[51] as by Middleton, Dekker, Heywood, and other hackney dramatists of that period. They were thought of such consequence that the City had for some time (though probably not till after the Restoration) a professed laureat for their composition; an office which expired with Elkanah Settle in 1723–24. They consisted chiefly of machinery, allegorical or historical personages, songs and speeches.
“After all these shewes, thus ordered in their appointed places, followeth another device of huntsmen, all clad in greene, with their bowes, arrowes and bugles, and a new slaine deere, carried among them. It savoureth of earle Robert de la Hude, sometime the noble earle of Huntington, and sonne in law (by marriage) to old Fitz-Alwine,[52] raised by the muses all-commanding power, to honour this triumph with his father. During the time of his out-lawed life in the forest of merry Shirwood, and elsewhere, while the cruel oppression of a most unnatural and covetous brother hung heavy upon him, Gilbert de la Hude, lord abbot of Christall [r. Kirkstall] abbey, who had all or most of his lands in mortgage: he was commonly called Robin Hood, and had a gallant company of men (out-lawed in the like manner) that followed his downecast fortunes; as little John, Scathlocke, Much the miller’s son, Right-hitting Brand, fryar Tuck, and many more. In which condition of life we make instant use of him, and part of his brave bowmen, fitted with bowes and arrowes, of the like strength and length, as good records {lxvii} deliver testimonie, were then used by them in their killing of deere. . . . .