University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

—A Forest. Robin Hood, Scarlet, and Foresters, seated round a fire.

GLEE.

Scarlet.
How swift the time has fled: the length of night
Has seem'd but as an hour—nay, scarce so much.
What thinks our Captain, noble Robin Hood?

Robin Hood.
I think, friend Scarlet, 'tis good time we chang'd
The goblet for the bow—I'faith the morn
Is blushing at our pranks.

Scarlet.
Good sooth now,
Her worship is too modest—

Robin Hood.
You forget;
You must be quick, an you have any will
To this day's tournament.—Your bows, my friends.

(Exeunt all but Robin Hood and Scarlet.
Robin Hood.
May our brother Saxons gain,
As they did yesterday, the prize of valor.

Scarlet.
And most the Palmer Knight!
He shew'd himself a right one.

Robin Hood.
Aye: an he strike to-day as he did yesterday—
St. George! The Normans dropt before his blows,
Like mellow fruit before the winds of autumn.
Didst see how Prince John writh'd his nether lip?
St. Withold's curse upon him!—

Scarlet.
'Tis a churl!

Robin Hood.
Would that our Richard were safe home again!
He, though a Norman, is a king for Saxons—
Poor Isaac, too—

Scarlet.
Why yes, the Prince drank deep
Of Isaac's purse—but that is little matter;
The Jew is but a Jew

Robin Hood.
He's an open heart,
Though somewhat a close hand. When I lay ill,
Fest'ring with wounds, a price upon my head,
He wasted gold on my necessities;
While his fair daughter, kind Rebecca, was
The surgeon to my sickness.

Scarlet.
People say,
Her skill is borrow'd of the devil—

Robin Hood.
Tush.

Scarlet.
Laugh as you will; I'm partly of their faith
Who say she is a witch.

Robin Hood.
More fool art thou;
The Jew's a kind old soul, who loves his coin
Perhaps too much, yet works withal more good
Than those of better name. I say again,
He nurs'd my sickness, fed my need with gold—
How many Christians, think you, had done so?

Scarlet.
Not one of my acquaintance—Well; I've heard
The Jews were skilful doctors—tis, indeed,
Their quality of fame—but this—in faith,
You must allow my wonder.

Wamba enters hastily.
Robin Hood.
Whither so fast, good fool?

Wamba.
Out of the way of nuncle Cedric—Such news—
First the Jew turn'd out to be Ivanhoe—
No—Ivanhoe turn'd out to be the Jew—
No, I don't mean that—

Robin Hood.
Gramercy, fool; thou tell'st thy story well—

Wamba.
First, Prince John took Isaac's purse from him, as he did yesterday,
Whereat the Jew march'd off from the tourney.

Robin Hood.
But your Palmer Knight—

Wamba.

The Palmer Knight proves to be Ivanhoe,
and his kind papa, Cedric, no sooner finds him to be
his son, than off he flies, growling and cursing by
all the Saints in the Calendar. Oh, 'tis rare sport.
And now young Ivanhoe is fighting for the tourney's
prize with Brian; and, I'faith, yonder is nuncle Cedric
—I am off.

(Wamba hurries out.
Robin Hood.

Come, Scarlet, to the fray. A
curse upon these Normans.

(Exit.