University of Virginia Library

Enter sir Iohn Eltam, and knocke at Skeltons doore.
Sir Iohn.
Howe , maister Skelton? what, at studie hard?

Opens the doore.
Skelt.
Welcome, and wisht for, honest sir

Iohn Eltam.
I haue sent twice, & either time
he mist, that went to seeke you.

Elt.
So full well hee might.
These two howers it pleas'd his Maiesty
To vse my seruice in suruaying Mappes,
Sent ouer from the good king Ferdinand,
That to the Indies, at Sebastians sute,
Hath lately sent a Spanish Colonie.

Sk.
Then twill trouble you, after your great affairs,
To take the paine that I intended to intreat you to,
About rehearsall of your promis'd play.

Elt.
Nay master Skelton: for the king himselfe,
As wee were parting, bid mee take great heede
Wee faile not of our day, therefore I pray
Sende for the rest, that now we may rehearse.

Skel.
O they are readie all, and drest to play.
What part play you?

Elt.
Why? I play little Iohn,
And came of purpose with this greene sute.

Skel.
Holla my masters, little Iohn is come.

At euery doore all the Players runne out, some crying where? where? others welcome sir Iohn, among other the boyes and Clowne.
Skel.
Faith little Tracy you are somewhat forward:
What, our Maid Marian leaping like a lad?
If you remember, Robin is your loue:
Sir Thomas mantle yonder, not sir Iohn.

Clow.
But master, sir Iohn is my fellowe, for I am
Much, the Millers sonne. Am I not?

Sk.
I know yee are sir:
And gentlemen, since you are thus prepar'd,
Goe in, and bring your dumbe scene on the stage,
And I, as Prologue, purpose to expresse
The ground whereon our historie is laied.

Exeunt, manet Skelton.
Trumpets sounde, enter first king Richard with drum and Auncient, giuing Ely a purse and scepter, his mother, and brother Iohn, Chester, Lester, Lacie, others at the kings appointment doing reuerence. The king goes in: presently Ely ascends the chaire, Chester, Iohn, and the Queene part displeasantly. Enter Robert, earle of Huntington, leading Marian, followes him Warman, and after Warman the Prior, Warman euer flattering and making curtsie, taking gifts of the Prior behinde, and his master before. Prince Iohn enters, offereth to take Marian. Queene Elinor enters, offering to pull Robin from her; but they infolde each other, and sit downe within the curteines, Warman with the Prior, sir Hugh Lacy, Lord Sentloe & sir Gilbert Broghton folde hands, and drawing the curteins, all (but the Prior) enter, and are kindely receiued by Robin Hoode. The curteins are againe shut.
Sk.
Sir Iohn, once more, bid your dumbe shewes come in;
That as they passe I may explane them all.

Enter king Richard with drumme and Ensigne, giuing Ely a purse, and scepter, his mother and brother Iohn, Chester, Lester, Lacie, others at the kings appointment, doing reuerence. The king goes in.
[Skelton.]
Richard calde Cor de Lyon takes his leaue,
Like the Lords Champion gainst the Pagan foes,
That spoyle Iudea, and rich Palestine.
The rule of England and his princely seate,
He leaues with Ely, then Lord Chancellor:
To whom the mother Queene, her sonne, prince Iohn,
Chester, and all the Peeres are sworne.

Exit Richard cum militibus.
Ely ascends the chaire, Chester, Iohn and the Queene part displeasantly.
[Skelton.]
Now reuerend, Ely like the deputie
Of Gods greate deputie ascends the throne:
Which the Queene mother, and ambitious Iohn
Repining at, rais'd many mutinies:
And how they ended you anone shall heare,

Exeunt omnes.
Enter Robert, earle of Huntington, leading Marian, followes him Warman, and after Warman the Prior, Warman euer flattering, and making curtsie, taking giftes of the Prior behinde, and his master before. Prince Iohn enters, offereth to take Marian, Queene Elinor enters, offering to pull Robin from her; but they infolde each other, and sit downe within the curteins,
[Skelton.]
This youth that leads yon virgin by the hand
(As doth the Sunne, the morning richly clad)
Is our Earle Robert, or your Robin Hoode,
That in those daies, was Earle of Huntington.
The ill fac't miser, brib'd in either hand,
Is Warman, once the Steward of his house,
Who Iudas like betraies his liberall Lord,
Into the hands of that relentlesse Prior,
Calde Gilbert Hoode, vncle to Huntington:
Those two that seeke to part these louely friends,
Are Elenor the Queene, and Iohn the Prince,
She loues earle Robert, he maide Marian,
But vainely: for their deare affect is such,
As only death can sunder their true loues.
Long had they lou'd, and now it is agreed,
This day they must be troth-plight, after wed.
At Huntingtons faire house a feast is helde;
But enuie turnes it to a house of teares.
For those false guestes, conspiring with the Prior,
To whome earle Robert greatly is in debt,
Meane at the banquet to betray the Earle,
Unto a heauie writ of outlawry.
The manner and escape you all shall see.

Elt.
Which all, good Skelton?

Skel.
Exit sir Iohn.

Enter, as it were in haste, the Prior of Yorke, the Sheriffe, Iustice Warman, Steward to Robin Hoode.
Pri.
Here master Warman, theres a hundred crowns,
For your good will and furtherance in this.

War.
I thanke you my Lord Prior, I must away
To shunne suspicion, but be resolute,
And wee will take him, haue no doubt of it.

Pri.
But is Lord Sentloe and the other come?

War.
Lord Sentloe, sir Hugh Lacie, & sir Gilbert Broghton
Are there, and as they promist you last night,
Will helpe to take him, when the Sheriffe comes.

Pri.
A while farewell, and thankes to them & you.
Come master Sheriffe, the outlawry is proclam'd,
Sende therefore quickly for more companie,
And at the backe gate wee will enter in.

Sher.
Wee shall haue much adoe I am afraide.

Pri.
No, they are very merry at a feast,
A feast, where Marian, daughter to Lord Lacy,
Is troth-plighted to wastfull Huntington.
And at the feast, are my especiall friends,
Whom hee suspectes not: come weele haue him, man,
And for your paines, here is a hundred markes.

Exeunt.
Sher.
I thanke your Lordshippe, weele be diligent.

Enter Robin Hoode, little Iohn following him; the one earle of Huntington, the other his seruant, Robin hauing his napkin on his shoulder, as if hee were sodainly raised from dinner.
Robin.
As I am outlawed from my fame and state,
Be this day outlawed from the name of daies:
Day lucklesse, outlawe lawlesse, both accurst,

Flings away his napkin, hat, and sitteth downe.
Iohn.
Doe not forget your honourable state,
Nor the true noblesse of your worthy house.

Rob.
Doe not perswade mee: vaine as vanitie
Are all thy comforts, I am comfortlesse.

Iohn.
Heare mee my Lord.

Rob.
What shall I heare thee say?
Alreadie hast thou saide too much to heare.
Alreadie hast thou stabd mee with thy tongue,
And the wide wound with words will not be clos'd.
Am I not outlawed, by the Prior of Yorke,
Proclaim'd in Court, in citie, and in towne,
A lawlesse person? this thy tongue reports:
And therefore seeke not to make smooth my griefe:
For the rough storme, thy windie words hath rais'd,
Will not be calm'd, till I in graue be laied.

Iohn.
Haue patience yet.

Rob.
Yea, now indeede thou speakest.
Patience hath power to beare a greater crosse
Then honours spoyle, or any earthly losse.

Iohn.
Doe so my Lord.

Rob.
I, now I would beginne:
But see, another Scene of griefe comes in.

Enter Marian.
Mar.
Why is my Lord so sad? wherefore so soone,
So sodainely arose yee from the boorde?
Alas my Robin, what distempering griefe
Drinkes vp the roseat colour of thy cheekes?
Why art thou silent? answere mee my loue.

Rob.
Let him, let him, let him make thee as sad.
Hee hath a tongue can banish thee from ioy,
And chase thy crimson colour from thy cheekes.
Why speakest thou not? I pray thee little Iohn,
Let the short story of my long distresse
Be vttered in a word. What mean'st thou to protract?
Wilt thou not speake? then Marian list to mee.
This day thou wert a maide, and now a spowse,
Anone (poore soule) a widdowe thou must bee:
Thy Robin is an outlawe, Marian,
His goods and landes must be extended on,
Himselfe exilde from thee, thou kept from him,
She sinkes in his armes.
By the long distance of vnnumbred miles,
Faint'st thou at this? speake to mee Marian,
My olde loue newely met, parte not so soone,
Wee haue a little time to tarry yet.

Mar.
If but a little time, let mee not stay,
Part wee to day, then will I dye to day.

Iohn.
For shame my Lord, with courage of a man,
Bridle this ouer-greeuing passion,
Or else dissemble it, to comfort her.

Rob.
I like thy counsell. Marian, cleare these clouds,
And with the sunny beames of thy bright eyes,
Drinke vp these mistes of sorrowe that arise.

Mar.
How can I ioy, when thou art banished?

Rob.
I tell thee loue, my griefe is counterfaite;
And I abruptly from the table rose,
The banquet being almost at an ende,
Onely to driue confused and sad thoughts
Into the mindes of the inuited guestes.
For, gentle loue, at greate or nuptiall feastes,
With Comicke sportes, or Tragicke stately plaies,
Wee vse to recreate the feasted guestes,
Which I am sure our kinsfolke doe expect.

Mar.
Of this what then? this seemes of no effect.

Rob.
Why thus of this, as little Iohn can tell,
I had bespoken quaint Comedians:
But great Iohn, Iohn the Prince, my Lieges brother,
My riuall, Marian, he that crost our loue,
Hath crost mee in this iest, and at the Court,
Imployes the Players, should haue made vs sport;
This was the tydings brought by little Iohn,
That first disturbd mee, and begot this thought
Of sodaine rysing, which by this I know
Hath with amazement, troubled all our guestes:
Goe in, good loue, thou as the Chorus shalt,
Expresse the meaning of my silent griefe,
Which is no more but this; I only meane
(The more to honour our right noble friends)
My selfe in person, to present some Sceanes
Of tragick matter, or perchance of mirth,
Euen such as first shall iumpe with my conceipt.

Mar.
May I be bolde thou hast the worst exprest?

Iohn.
Faire mistresse, all is true my Lord hath said.

Rob.
It is, it is.

Mar.
Speake not so hollow then,
So sigh, and sadly speake true sorrowing men.

Rob.
Beleeue mee loue, beleeue mee (I beseech)
My first Scene tragick is, therefore tragicke speech,
And accents, fitting wofull action, I striue to get:
I pray thee sweete goe in, and with thy sight,
Appease the many doubts that may arise.
That done, be thou their vsher, bring them to this place,
And thou shalt see mee with a loftie verse,
Bewitch the hearers eares, and tempt their eyes
To gaze vpon the action that I vse.

Mar.
If it be but a play, Ile play my part:
But sure some earnest griefe affrights my heart.

Iohn.
Let mee intreate yee Madam not to feare,
For by the honestie of little Iohn,
Its but a tragicke Scene we haue in hand,
Only to fit the humour of the Queene,
Who is the chiefest at your troth-plight feast.

Mar.
Then will I fetch her Highnesse and the rest.

Rob.
I, that same iealous Queene, whose doting age
Enuies the choyce of my faire Marian,
She hath a hande in this.

Iohn.
Well, what of that?
Now must your honour leaue these mourning tunes,
And thus by my areede you shall prouide;
Your Plate and Iewels Ile straight packe vp,
And toward Notingham conuey them hence,
At Rowford, Sowthan, Wortley, Hothersfield:
Of all your cattell, mony shall be made,
And I at Mansfield will attend your comming,
Where weele determine, which waie's best to take.

Rob.
Well be it so, a Gods name let it be:
And if I can, Marian shall come with mee.

Iohn.
Else care will kill her, therefore if you please,
At th'vtmost corner of the garden wall,
Soone in the euening waite for Marian,
And as I goe Ile tell her of the place,
Your horses at the Bell shall readie bee,
I meane Belsauage, whence as citizens
That meant to ride for pleasure some small way,
You shall set foorth.

Rob.
Be it as thou dost say.
Farewell a while.
In spight of griefe, thy loue compels mee smile:
But now our audience comes, wee must looke sad.

Exit Iohn.
Enter Queene Elinor, Marian, Sentloe, Lacie, Broghton, VVarman, Robins stewarde. As they meete, Iohn whispers with Marian.
Que.
How now my Lord of Huntington?
The mistresse of your loue, faire Marian,
Tels vs your sodaine rising from the banquet,
Was but a humor, which you meane to purge,
In some high Tragicke lines, or Comick iests.

Ro.
Sit down faire Queen (ye Prologues part is plaid,
Marian hath tolde yee, what I bad her tell)
Sit downe Lord Sentloe, cosin Lacy sit,
Sir Gilbert Broghton, yea, and Warman sit;
Though you my steward be, yet for your gathering wit,
I giue you place, sit downe, sit downe I say,
Sets them all downe.
Gods pittie sit; it must, it must be so:
For you will sit, when I shall stande I knowe.
And Marian (you) may sit among the rest,
I pray yee doe, or else rise, stand apart,
These helps shall be beholders of my smart.
You that with ruthlesse eyes my sorrowes see,
And came prepar'd to feast at my sad fall,
Whose enuie, greedinesse, and iealousie
Afforde mee sorrowe endlesse, comfort small,
Knowe what you knewe before, what you ordaind
To crosse the spousall banquet of my loue,
That I am outlawed by the Prior of Yorke,
My traiterous vncle, and your trothlesse friend.
Smile you Queene Elinor? laugh'st thou Lord Sentloe?
Lacy look'st thou so blithe at my lament?
Broghton a smooth browe graceth your sterne face:
And you are merry Warman at my mone.
The Queene except, I doe you all defie.
You are a sort of fawning Sycophants,
That while the sun shine of my greatnesse dur'd,
Reueld out all my day for your delights,
And now yee see the blacke night of my woe
Oreshade the beautie of my smiling good,
You to my griefe adde griefe, and are agreed
With that false Prior, to repriue my ioyes
From execution of all happinesse.

War.
Your honour thinks not ill of mee, I hope.

Rob.
Iudas speakes first, with, master is it I?
No, my false Steward, your accounts are true,
You haue dishonoured mee, I worshipt you.
You from a paltry pen and inkhorne clarke,
Bearing a buckram satchell at your belt,
Unto a Iustice place I did preferre,
Where you vniustly haue my tenants rackt,
Wasted my treasure, and increast your store.
Your sire contented with a cottage poore,
Your mastershippe hath halles and mansions built,
Yet are you innocent, as cleare from guilt,
As is the rauenous mastife that hath spilt
The bloode of a whole flocke, yet slily comes
And couches in his kennell, with smeard chaps.
Out of my house, for yet my house it is,
And followe him yee catchpole bribed groomes:
For neither are ye Lords, nor Gentlemen,
That will be hired to wrong a Nobleman:
For hir'd yee were, last night, I knowe it I,
To be my guests, my faithlesse guestes this day,
That your kinde hoste you trothlesse might betray:
But hence, and helpe the Sheriffe at the doore,
Your worst attempt: fell traitors, as you bee,
Auoide, or I will execute yee all,
Ere any execution come at mee,
Runne away.
They ran away, so ends the tragedie.
Marian, by little Iohn, my minde you know,
If you will, doe: if not, why, be it so.

Offers to goe in.
Qu.
No words to me earle Robert ere you goe?

Rob.
O to your Highnesse? yes, adieu proud Queene,
Had not you bene, thus poore I had not beene.

Exit.
Qu.
Thou wrongst mee Robert, earle of Huntington,
And were it not for pittie of this maide,
I would reuenge the words that thou hast saied.

Mar.
Adde not, faire Queene, distresse vnto distresse:
But if you can, for pittie make his lesse.

Que.
I can and will forget deseruing hate,
And giue him comfort in this wofull state.
Marian, I knowe Earle Roberts whole desire
Is to haue thee with him from hence away:
And though I loued him dearely to this day;
Yet since I see hee dearlier loueth thee,
Thou shalt haue all the furtherance I may.
Tell mee faire girle, and see thou truly tell,
Whether this night, to morrowe, or next day,
There be no pointment for to meete thy loue.

Mar.
There is, this night there is, I will not lie,
And be it disappointed, I shall die.

Que.
Alas poore soule, my sonne, Prince Iohn my son,
With seuerall troupes hach circuited the Court,
This house, the citie, that thou canst not scape.

Mar.
I will away with death, though he be grim,
If they deny mee to goe hence with him.

Qu,
Marian, thou shalt go with him clad in my attire,
And for a shift, Ile put thy garments on,
It is not mee, my sonne Iohn doth desire;
But Marian it is thee, he doteth on.
When thou and I are come into the field,
Or any other place where Robin staies,
Mee in thy clothes, the ambush will beset,
Thee in my roabes they dare not once approach:
So while with mee a reasoning they stay,
At pleasure thou with him maist ride away.

Mar,
I am beholding to your Maiesty,
And of this plot will sende my Robin worde.

Qu.
Nay, neuer trouble him, least it breede suspect:
But get thee in, and shift of thy attire,
My roabe is loose, and it will soone be off,
Goe gentle Marian, I will followe thee,
And from betrayers hands will set thee free.

Mar.
I thanke your Highnesse, but I will not trust ye,
My Robert shall haue knowledge of this shift:
For I conceiue alreadie your deepe drift.

Qu.
Now shall I haue my will of Huntington,
Who taking mee this night for Marian,
Will harry mee away in steade of her:
For hee dares not stand trifling to conferre:
Faith prettie Marian I shal meete with you,
And with your louely sweete heart Robert too:
For when wee come vnto a baiting place,
If with like loue my loue hee doe not grace,
Of treason capitall I will accuse him,
For traiterous forcing me out of the Court,
And guerdon his disdaine with guiltie death,
That of a Princes loue so lightly weighes.

Exit.
Enter little Iohn, fighting with the Sheriffe and his men, Warman perswading him.
Io.
Warman stād off, tit tattle, tel not me what ye can do:
The goods I say are mine, and I say true.

War.
I say the Sheriffe must see them ere they goe.

Ioh.
You say so Warman, little Iohn saies no.

Shre.
I say I must for I am the kings Shrieue.

Ioh.
Your must is false, your office I beleeue.

Watch.
Downe with him, downe with him.

Iohn.
Ye barke at me like curres, but I will downe
With twentie (stand, and who goe theres) of you,
If yee stand long tempting my patience.
Why master Shriue, thinke you mee a foole?
What iustice is there you should search my trunkes,
Or stay my goods for that my master owes?

Shr.
Here's Iustice Warman, steward to your Lord,
Suspectes some coyne, some Iewels, or some plate
That longs vnto your Lord, are in your trunkes,
And the extent is out for all his goods:
Therefore wee ought to see none he conuaid.

War.
True litle Iohn, I am the sorier.

Iohn.
A plague vpon ye else, how sore ye weepe?
Why, say thou vpstart, that there were some helpe,
Some little little helpe in this distresse,
To aide our Lord and master comfortlesse;
Is it thy part, thou screenfac't snotty nose,
To hinder him that gaue thee all thou hast?

Enter Iustice Warmans wife, odly attyred.
Wife.
Who's that husband? you, you, means he you?

War.
I ber Lady is it, I thanke him.

Wif.

Aye kneue you, gods pittie hisband, why dis not
your worshippe sende the kneue to Newgate?

Ioh.
Well master Sheriffe, shall I passe or no?

Sher.
Not without search.

Iohn.
Then here the casket stands,
Any, that dares, vnto it set their hands,
Let him beginne.

Wif.

Doe hisband, you are a Maiestie, ywarrant ther's
olde knacks, cheins and other toyes.

Iohn.

But not for you, good Madam beetle browes.

Wife.

Out vpon him. By my truly master Iustice, and ye
doe not clap him vp, I will sue a bill of remorse, and neuer
come betweene a pere of sheetes with yee. Such a
kneue as this, downe with him I pray.

Set vpon him. He knockes some downe.
Wife.

A good Lord, come not neere good hisband, only
charge him; charge him. A good God; helpe, helpe.

Enter Prince Iohn, the Bishoppe of Ely, the Prior of Yorke, with others. All stay.
P. Iohn.
What tumult haue wee here? who doth resist
The kings writs with such obstinate contempt?

Wife.
This knaue.

War.
This Rebell.

P. Iohn.
How now little Iohn,
Haue you no more discretion than you shewe?

Ely.
Lay holde, and clappe the traitor by the heeles.

Iohn.
I am no traitor, my good Lord of Ely.
First heare mee, then commit me if you please.

P. Ioh.
Speake and be briefe.

Ioh.
Heere is a little boxe,
Containing all my gettings twentie yeare;
Which is mine owne, and no mans but mine owne:
This they would rifle, this I doe defend,
And about this we only doe contend.

P. Ioh.
You doe the fellow wrong: his goods are his:
You only must extend vpon the Earles.

Prior.
That was my Lord; but nowe is Robert Hood,
A simple yeoman as his seruants were.

Wife.
Backe with that legge my Lord Prior:

There be some, that were his seruantes, thinke foule
scorne to be cald yeomen.

Pri.
I cry your worshippe mercy, mistresse Warman.
The squire your husband was his seruant once.

Ioh.
A scuruie squire, with reuerence of these Lords.

Wife.
Doo's he not speake treason prey.

Ely.
Sirra, yea are too saucie, get you hence.

War.
But heare mee first, my Lords, with patience.
This scoffing carelesse fellowe, little Iohn,
Hath loaden hence a horse, twixt him and Much,
A silly rude knaue, Much the millers sonne.

Enter Much, clowne.
Much.

I am here to answere for my selfe, and haue taken
you in two lies at once. First, Much is no knaue,
neither was it a horse little Iohn and I loded, but a
little curtaile, of some fiue handfuls high, sib to y
e Apes onely beast at Parish garden.

Ioh.
But master Warman, you haue loded carts,
And turnd my Lords goods to your proper vse:
Who euer hath the right, you doe the wrong,
And are

Wife.
What is hee kneue?

Ioh.
Unworthy to be named a man,

Much.
And Ile be sworne for his wife,

Wife.
I, so thou maist Nich.

Much.

That shee sets newe markes of all my olde Ladies
linnen (God rest her soule) & my young Lord neuer
had them since.

Wife.

Out, out, I tooke him them but to whiting, as
God mende mee.

Ely.

Leaue off this idle talke, get yee both hence.

Iohn.

I thanke your Honours: wee are not in loue w
t being here; wee must seeke seruice that are masterlesse.

Exeunt Much, Iohn.
Ely.
Lord Prior of Yorke, here's your commission.
You are best make speede, least in his country houses,
By his appointment, all his heards be solde.

Pr.
I thanke your Honour, taking humble leaue.

Exit.
Ely.
And master VVarman, here's your Patent seald,
For the high Sheriffewick of Notingham:
Except the king our master doe repeale
This gift of ours.

Pr. Ioh.
Let him the while possesse it.

Ely.
A gods name let him, he hath my good will.

Exit.
P. Ioh.
Well Warman, this proude Priest I can not brooke.
But to our other matter, send thy wife away.

War.

Goe in good wife, the Prince with mee hath
priuate conference.

Wife.

By my troth yee will anger mee: now yee haue
the Paterne, yee should call mee nothing but mistresse
Sheriffe: for I tell you I stand vpon my replications.

Exit.
P. Ioh.
Thinkest thou that Marian meanes
To scape this euening hence with Robin Hoode?
The horse boy tolde mee so, and here he comes,
Disguised like a citizen me thinkes.
Warman lets in, ile fit him presently,
Only for Marian am I now his enemie.

Exeunt.
Enter Robin like a citizen.
Ro.
Earle Iohn & Warman, two good friends of mine:
I thinke they knewe mee not, or if they did
I care not what can followe, I am sure
The sharpest ende is death, and that will come.
But what of death or sorrowe doe I dreame?
My Marian, my faire life, my beautious loue,
Is comming, to giue comfort to my griefe,
And the sly Queene, intending to deceiue,
Hath taught vs how we should her sleights deceiue.
But who is this? gods pittie, here's Prince Iohn,
We shall haue some good rule with him anone.

P. Ioh.
God euen sir: this cleare euening should portend
Some frost I thinke: how iudge you honest friend?

Rob.
I am not weatherwise: but it may be,
Wee shall haue hard frost: for true charitie,
Good dealing, faithfull friendshippe, honestie,
Are chil-colde, deade with colde.

P. Ioh.
O good sir, stay.
That frost hath lasted many a bitter day.
Knowe yee no frozen hearts that are belou'd?

Rob.
Loue is a flame, a fire, that being mou'd,
Still brighter growes: but say, are you belou'd?

P. Ioh.
I would be, if I be not: but passe that.
Are ye a dweller in this citie, pray?

Rob.
I am: and for a Gentlewoman stay,
That rides some foure or fiue mile in great haste.

Enter Queene, Marian.
P. Ioh.
I see your labour, sir, is not in waste.
For here comer two: are either of these yours?

Rob.
Both ae, one must.

P. Iohn.
Which doe you most respect?

Rob.
The youngest, and the fairest I reiect.

P. Io.
Robin, Ile try you whether yee say true.

Rob.
As you with mee, so Iohn ile ieast with you.

Qu.
Marian, let me goe first to Robin Hood,
And I will tell him what wee doe intend.

War.
Doe what your Highnesse please, your will is mine.

P. Ioh.
My mother is with gentle Marian:
O it doth grieue her to be left behinde.

Qu.
Shall we away my Robin, least the Queene
Betray our purpose, sweete let vs away:
I haue great will to goe, no heart to stay.

Rob.
Away with thee? No: get thee farre away
From mee foule Marian, faire though thou be nam'd:
For thy bewitching eyes haue raised stormes,
That haue my name and noblesse euer sham'd:
Prince Iohn, my deare friend once, is now, for thee,
Become an vnrelenting enemie,

P. Ioh.
But ile relent, and loue thee, if thou leaue her.

Rob.
And Elinor my Soueraignes mother Queene,
That yet retaines true passion in her breast,
Stands mourning yonder. Hence, I thee detest:
I will submit mee to her Maiestie.
Greate Princesse, if you will but ride with mee,
A little of my way, I will expresse
My folly past, and humble pardon beg.

Mar.
I grant, earle Robert, and I thanke thee too.

Qu.
She's not the Queene, sweete Robin it is I.

Rob.
Hence Sorceresse, thy beauty I defie.
If thou haue any loue at all to mee,
Bestowe it on Prince Iohn: he loueth thee.

Exeunt Robin, Marian.
P. Ioh.
And I will loue thee Robin, for this deede,
And helpe thee too, in thy distressefull neede.

Qu.
Wilt thou not stay nor speake, proud Huntington?
Ay mee, some whirlwinde hurries them away.

P. Ioh.
Follow him not faire loue, that from thee flies:
But flie to him that gladly followes thee.
Wilt thou not girle? turnst thou away from mee?

Qu.
Nay, we shall haue it then,
If my queint sonne, his mother gin to court.

P. Io.
Wilt thou not speake, faire Marian, to prince Iohn,
That loues thee well?

Qu.
Good sir I know you doe.

Prin.
That can maintaine thee?

Qu.
I, I know you can:
But hitherto I haue maintained you.

Prin.
My princely mother?

Qu.
I, my princely sonne.

Prin.
Is Marian then gone hence with Huntington?

Qu.
I, she is gone, ill may they either thriue.

Prin.
Mother, they must goe whom the diuell driues.
For your sharpe furie, and infernall rage,
Your scorne of mee, your spite to Marian,
Your ouer-doting loue to Huntington,
Hath crost your selfe, and mee it hath vndone.

Qu.
I, in mine owne deceipt, haue met deceipt:
In briefe, the manner thus I will repeate;
I knewe, with malice that the Prior of Yorke
Pursu'd Earle Robert; and I furdred it;
Though God can tell for loue of Huntington.
For thus I thought, when he was in extreames,
Neede, & my loue would winne some good regarde
From him to mee, If I relieu'd his want.
To this end came I to the mock-spouse feast:
To this end made I change for Marians weede,
That me, for her, Earle Robert should receiue:
But now I see they both of them agreed,
In my deceipt, I might my selfe deceiue.
Come in with mee, come in and meditate
How to turne loue, to neuer changing hate.

Exit.
Prin.
In by your selfe: I passe not for your spels.
Of youth and beautie still you are the foe:
The curse of Rosamond rests on your head,
Faire Rose confounded by your cankers hate.
O that she were not as to mee she is,
A mother, whom by nature I must loue,
Then would I tell her shee were too too base,
To dote thus on a banisht carelesse groome;
Then should I tell her that shee were too fond,
To thrust faire Marian to an exiles hand.

Enter a messenger from Ely.
Mess.
My Lord, my Lord of Ely sends for you,
About important businesse of the state.

Prin.
Tell the proude Prelate I am not dispos'd,
Nor in estate to come at his commaunde.
Smite him, hee bleedes.
Be gon with that, or tarry and take this.
Zwouns are yee listning for an after-arrant?
Ile followe, with reuengefull murdrous hate,
The banisht, beggerd, bankrout Huntington.

Enter Simon, earle of Leicester.
Ley.
How now Prince Iohn? bodie of mee, I muse
What mad moodes tosse yee, in this busie time,
To wound the messenger that Ely sent,
By our consents? yfaith yee did not well.

Prin.
Leyster, I meant it Ely, not his man:
His seruants heade but bleedes: hee headlesse shall
From all the issues of his traitor necke,
Poure streames of bloode, till he be bloodlesse left:
By earth it shall, by heauen it shall be so,
Leister, it shall though all the world say no.

Lei.
It shall, it shall, but how shall it be done?
Not with a stormie tempest of sharpe words,
But slowe, still speaches, and effecting deedes.
Here comes olde Lacy and his brother Hugh.
One is our friend, the other is not true.

Enter Lord Lacy, sir Hugh, and his boy.
Lacy.
Hence trechor as thou art: by Gods blest mother
Ile lop thy legges off, though thou be my brother,
If with thy flatring tongue thou seeke to hide
Thy traiterous purpose. Ah poore Huntington,
How in one houre haue villaines thee vndone?

Hugh.
If you will not beleeue what I haue sworne,
Conceipt your worst. My Lord of Ely knowes
That what I say, is true.

La.
Still facest thou?
Drawe boy, and quickly see that thou defende thee.

Lei.
Patience Lord Lacy, get you gon sir Hugh,
Prouoke him not, for he hath tolde you true:
You knowe it, that I knowe the Prior of Yorke,
Together with my good Lord Chauncellor,
Corrupted you, Lord Sentloe, Broghton, Warman,
To feast with Robert on his day of fall.

Hugh.
They lie that say it; I defie yee all.

Prin.
Now by the Roode thou lyest. Warman himselfe,
That creeping Iudas, ioyed, and tolde it mee.

Lacy.
Let mee, my Lords, reuenge me of this wretch,
By whome my daughter and her loue were lost.

Prin.
For her, let mee reuenge; with bitter cost,
Shall sir Hugh Lacy and his fellowes buy
Faire Marians losse, lost by their treachery.
And thus I pay it.

Stabs him, he falles, boy runnes in.
Leist.
Sure paiment Iohn.

Lacy:
There let the villane lie:
For this, olde Lacie honours thee, prince Iohn.
One trecherous soule, is sent to answere wrong.

Enter Ely, Chester, officers, Hugh Lacies boy.
Boy.
Here, here, my Lord,
Looke where my master lies.

Ely.
What murdrous hād hath kild this gentle knight,
Good sir Hugh Lacy, steward of my lands?

Prin.
Ely, he died by this princely hand.

Ely.
Unprincely deed. Death asketh death you know.

Ely.
Arrest him officers.

Prin.
O sir, Ile obey; you will take baile, I hope.

Chest.
Tis more, sir, than hee may.

Lei.
Chester, he may by lawe, and therefore shall.

Ely.
Who are his baile?

Lei.
I.

Lacy.
And I.

Ely.
Yon are confederates.

Prin.
Holy Lord, you lye.

Chest.
Be reuerent, Prince Iohn: my Lord of Ely,
You knowe, is Regent for his Maiestie.

Prin.
But here are Letters from his Maiesty,
Sent out of Ioppa, in the holy land,
To you, to these, to mee, to all the State;
Containing a repeale of that large graunt,
And free authoritie to take the seale,
Into the hands of three Lords temporall,
And the Lord Archbishoppe of Roan, he sent.
And hee shall yielde it: or as Lacy lies,
Desertfully, for pride and treason stabd,
He shall ere long lye. Those that intend as I
Followe this steely ensigne, lift on high.

Lifts vp his drawne sword:
Exit, cum Lester and Lacy.
Ely.
A thousand thousand ensignes of sharpe steele,
And feathered arrowes, from the bowe of death,
Against proud Iohn, wrongd Ely will imploy.
My Lord of Chester, let mee haue your aide,
To lay the pride of haute vsurping Iohn.

Chest.
Some other course than warre let vs bethinke:
If it may be, let not vnciuill broiles,
Our ciuill hands defile.

Ely.
God knowes that I,
For quiet of the Realme, would ought forbeare:
But giue mee leaue, my noble Lord to feare,
When one, I dearely lou'd, is murdered,
Under the colour of a little wrong,
Done to the wastfull earle of Huntington:
Whom Iohn, I knowe, doth hate vnto the death,
Only for loue he beares to Lacies daughter.

Chest.
My Lord, its plaine this quarrel is but pickt
For an inducement to a greater ill:
But wee will call the Counsell of Estate,
At which the mother Queene shall present be:
Thither by summons shall Prince Iohn be cald,
Lester and Lacy, who, it seemes,
Fauour some factious purpose of the Prince.

Ely.
You haue aduised well, my Lord of Chester,
And as you counsell, so doe I conclude.

Exeunt.
Enter Robin Hoode, Matilda, at one doore, little Iohn, and Much the millers sonne at another doore.
Much.
Luck I beseech thee, Marry and amen,
Blessing betide hem, it be them indeede,
Ah my good Lord, for and my little Ladie.

Rob.
What? Much and Iohn, well met in this ill time.

Ioh.
In this good time my Lord; for being met,
The world shall not depart vs till wee die.

Mat.
Saist thou mee so Iohn? as I am true maide,
If I liue long, well shall thy loue be paide.

Much.

Well, there be on vs, simple though wee stand
here, haue as much loue in hem as little Iohn.

Mat.
Much, I confesse thou louest mee very much,
And I will more reward it than with words.

Much.

Nay I know that, but wee millers children
loue the cogge a little, and the faire speaking.

Rob.
And is it possible that Warmans spite
Should stretch so farre, chat he doth hunt the liues,
Of bonnie Scarlet, and brother Scathlock.

Much.

O, I sir. Warman came but yesterday to take
charge of the Iaile at Notingham, and this day he saies
he will hang the two outlawes: he meanes to set them
at libertie.

Mat.
Such libertie God send the pieuish wretch
In his most neede.

Rob.
Now by my honours hope,
Yet buried in the lowe dust of disgrace,
He is too blame: say Iohn, where must they die?

Ioh.
Yonders their mothers house, and here the tree,
Whereon (poore men) they must forgoe their liues:
And yonder comes a lazie, lozell Frier,
That is appointed for their confessor,
Who when we brought your monie to their mothers:
Was wishing her to patience for their deaths.

Enter Frier Tucke, and Ralphe, Warmans man.
Ra.

I am timorous sir, that the prigioners are passed
from the Iaile.

Fri.
Soft sirra, by my order I protest,
Ye are too forward: tis no game, no ieast
We goe about.

Rob.
Matilda, walke afore,
To widowe Scarlets house: looke where it stands:
Much, man your Ladie: little Iohn and I
Will come vnto you thither presently.

Much.

Come Madame, my Lord has pointed the properer
man to goe before yee.

Mat.
Be carefull Robin in this time of feare,

Exit Much, Matilda.
Fri.
Now by the reliques of the holy Masse,
A prettie girle, a very bonny lasse.

Rob.
Frier, how like you her?

Fri.
Mary, by my hoode,
I like her well, and wish her nought but good.

Rafe.

Yee protract master Frier. I obsecrate ye with
all curtesie, omitting complement, you would vouch,
or deigne to proceede.

Fri.
Deigne, vouch, protract, complement, obsecrate?
Why good man tricks, who taught you thus to prate?
Your name, your name, were you neuer christned?

Ra.
My nomination Radulfe is or Ralph,
Uulgars corruptly vse to call mee Rafe.

Fri.

Ioh.
Stoppe master Skelton: whither will you runne?

Fri.
Gods pittie sir Iohn Eltam, little Iohn,
I had forgotte my selfe; but to our play.
Come, good man fashions, let vs goe our way,
Unto this hanging businesse: would, for mee,
Some rescue, or repreeue might set them free.

Exeunt Frier, Ralph.
Robin.
Heardst thou not, little Iohn ye Friers speach,
Wishing for rescue, or a quicke repreeue?

Ioh.
He seemes like a good fellowe, my good Lord.

Rob.
He's a good fellowe Iohn, vpon my word.
Lend mee thy horne, and get thee in to Much,
And when I blowe this horne, come both & helpe mee.

Ioh.
Take heed my Lord: ye villane Warman knows you,
And ten to one, he hath a writ against you.

Rob.
Fear not: below ye bridge a poore blind man doth dwell,
With him I will change my habit, and disguise,
Only be readie when I call for yee:
For I will saue their liues, if it may bee.

Ioh.
I will doe what you would immediatly.

Enter Warman, Scarlet, and Scathlock bounde, Frier Tuck as their confessor, Officers with halberts.
War.
Master Frier, be briefe, delay no time:
Scarlet and Scathlock, neuer hope for life,
Here is the place of execution,
And you must answere lawe, for what is done.

Scar.
Well, if there be no remedie, we must:
Though it ill seemeth Warman, thou shouldst bee
So bloodie to pursue our liues thus cruellie.

Scat.
Our mother sau'd thee frō ye gallowes, Warman,
His father did preferre thee to thy Lord:
One mother had wee both, and both our fathers,
To thee and to thy father, were kinde friends.

Fri.
Good fellowes, here you see his kindnesse ends.
What he was once, hee doth not now consider:
You must consider of your many sinnes:
This day, in death, your happinesse beginnes.

Scar.
If you account it happinesse, good Frier,
To beare vs companie, I you desire:
The more the merrier, wee are honest men.

War.
Ye were first outlaws, then ye prooued theeues,
And now all carelessely yee scoffe at death:
Both of your fathers were good honest men;
Your mother liues, their widowe, in good fame:
But you are scapethrifts, vnthrifts, villanes knaues,
And as yee liu'd by shifts, shall die with shame.

Scat.
Warman, good words, for all your bitter deeds:
Ill speach, to wretched men, is more than needs.

Enter Raphe, running.
Ra.

Sir, retire yee, for it hath thus succeeded, the carnifex,
or executor, riding on an ill curtall, hath titubated
or stumbled, and is now cripplefied, with broken or
fracted tibiards, & sending you tidings of successe, saith,
your selfe must be his deputie.

War.
Ill luck: but sirra, you shall serue the turne:
The cords that binde them, you shall hang them in.

Ra.

How are you, sir, of mee opiniated? Not to possesse
your seneschalship, or sheriualtie, not to be earle of
Notingham, will Ralph be nominated by the base scandalous
vociferation of a hangman.

Enter Robin Hoode, like an old man.
Rob.
Where is the shrieue, kinde friends? I you beseech,
With his good worshippe, let mee haue some speech.

Fri.
Here is the Sheriffe, father, this is hee.

Rob.
Frier, good alms, & many blessings thank thee.
Sir, you are welcome to this troublous sheere:
Of this daies execution did I heare.
Scarlet and Scathlocke murdered my young sonne,
Mee haue they robd, and helplessely vndoone.
Reuenge I would, but I am olde and dry:
Wherefore, sweete master, for saint charitie,
Since they are bound, deliuer them to mee,
That for my sons blood, I reueng'd may bee.

Scar.
This old man lies, we nere did him such wrong.

Rob.
I doe not lie, you wote it too too well,
The deede was such, as you may shame to tell.
But I with all intreats might not preuaile
With your sterne stubborne mindes, bent all to blood.
Shall I haue such reuenge then master Sheriffe,
That with my sonnes losse, may suffice my selfe?

Robin whispers with them.
War.
Doe father what thou wilt, for they must die.

Fri.
I neuer heard them toucht with bloode till now.

War.
Notorious villanes, & they made their brags,
The earle of Huntington would saue their liues:
But hee is downe the winde, as all such shall,
That reuell, wast and spende, and take no care.

Rob.
My horne once winded, Ile vnbinde my belt,
Whereat the swords and bucklers are fast tied.

Scath.
Thankes to your Honour. Father we confesse,
And were our armes vnbounde, we would vpheaue
Our sinfull hands with sorrowing hearts to heauen.

Ro.
I will vnbinde you, with the Sheriffes leaue.

War.
Doe: helpe him Ralphe; go to them master Frier.

Robin.
And as yee blew your horns, at my sons death,
So will I sound your knell, wt my best breath:
Sound his horne.
And here's a blade, that hangeth at my belt,
Shall make ye feele in death, what my sonne felt.

Enter little Iohn, Much, Scarlet and Scathlock: Fight: the Frier, making as if he helpt the Sheriffe, knockes downe his men, crying, keepe the kings peace.
Ralph.
O they must be hangd father:

Rob.
Thy master and thy selfe supply their roomes.
Warman, approach mee not, tempt not my wrath.
For if thou doe, thou diest remedilesse.

War.
It is the outlawed earle of Huntington,
Downe with him Frier: oh thou dost mistake.
Fly Ralph, wee die else, let vs raise the shire.

Sheriffe runnes away, and his men.
Fri.
Farewell earle Robert, as I am true Frier,
I had rather be thy clarke, then serue the Prior.

Rob.
A iolly fellowe, Scarlet knowest thou him?

Scar.
Hee is of Yorke, and of Saint Maries Cloister:
There where your greedie vncle is Lord Prior.

Much.

O murren on ye, haue you two scap't hanging?
Harke yee my Lord, these two fellowes kept at Barnsdale
seauen yeare, to my knowledge, and no man

Rob.
Here is no biding masters, get yee in,
Take a short blessing at your mothers hands.
Much, beare them companie, make Matilda merry:
Iohn and my selfe will followe presently.
Iohn, on a sodaine thus I am resolu'd,
To keepe in Sherewodde, till the kings returne,
And being outlawed, leade an outlawes life.
(Seauen yeares these brethren, being yeomens sons,
Liued and scap't the malice of their foes)
How thinkest thou little Iohn of my intent?

Iohn.
I like your Honours purpose exceeding well.

Rob.
Nay, no more honour, I pray thee little Iohn:
Henceforth I will be called Robin Hoode,
Matilda shall be my maid Marian.
Come Iohn, friends all, for now beginnes the game:
And after our deserts, so growe our fame.

Exeunt.
Enter Prince Iohn and his Lords, with souldiers.
Prin.
Now is this Comet shot into the sea,
Or lies like slime, vpon the sullen earth:
Come, he is deade, else should we heare of him.

Sals.
I knowe not what to thinke herein, my Lord.

Fitz.
Ely is not the man I tooke him for,
I am afraide wee shall haue worse than hee.

Ioh.
Why good Fitzwater, whēce doth spring your fear?

Fitz.
Him for his pride, we iustly haue supprest:
But prouder climers are about to rise.

Sals.
Name them Fitzwater, know you any such?

Ioh.
Fitzwater meanes not any thing, I know:
For if he did, his tongue would tell his heart.

Fitz.
An argument of my free heart my Lord,
That lets the worlde be witnesse of my thought.
When I was taught, true dealing kept the schoole:
Deeds were sworne partners with protesting words;
We said and did, these say and neuer meane.
This vpstart protestation of no proofe:
This, I beseech you sir accept my loue;
Commaund mee, vse mee, O you are too blame,
That doe neglect my euerlasting zeale,
My deare, my kinde affect: when God can tell,
A sodaine puffe of winde, a lightning flash,
A bubble on the streame doth longer dure,
Than doth the purpose of their promise bide.
A shame vpon this peeuish Apish age,
These crouching hypocrite dissembling times.
Well, well, God rid the Patrones of these crimes,
Out of this land. I haue an inward feare,
This ill, well seeming, sinne, will be bought deare.

Sals.
My Lord Fitzwater is inspir'd I thinke.

Prin.
I, with some diuell: let the olde foole dote.

Enter Queene mother, Chester, Sheriffe, Kent souldiers.
Qu.
From the pursuing of the hatefull Priest,
And bootlesse search of Ely are wee come.

Prin.
And welcome is your sacred Maiestie.
And Chester welcome too, against your will.

Chest.
Unwilling men come not without constraint:
But vncompeld comes Chester to this place,
Telling thee Iohn, that thou art much too blame,
To chase hence Ely, Chauncelor to the king,
To set thy footesteppes on the cloath of state,
And seate thy body in thy brothers throne.

Sals.
Who should succeede the brother, but the brother?

Chest.
If one were deade, one should succeede ye other.

Qu.
My sonne is king, my son then ought to raigne.

Fitz.
One sonne is king, the State allows not twaine.

Sals.
The subiects many yeares the king haue mist.

Che.
But subiects must not chuse what king they list.

Qu.
Richard hath conquered kingdomes in the East.

Fitz.
A signe hee will not loose this in the West.

Sals.
By Salsburies Honour I will follow Iohn.

Chest.
So Chester will, to shunne commotion.

Qu.
Why? Iohn shall be but Richards deputie.

Fitz.
To that, Fitzwater gladly doth agree.
And looke to't Lady, minde king Richards loue:
As you will answer't, doe the king no wrong.

Qu.
Well said old conscience, you keep still one song.

Prin.
In your contentious humours noble Lords,
Peeres, and vpholders of the English State,
Iohn silent stoode, as one that did awaite
What sentence yee determind for my life:
But since you are agreed that I shall beare
The weightie burthen of this kingdomes state,
Till the returne of Richard, our dread king:
I doe accept the charge, and thanke you all,
That think me worthie of so great a place.

All.
Wee all confirme you Richards deputie.

Sals.
Now shall I plague proud Chester.

Qu.
Sit you sure Fitzwater.

Chest.
For peace, I yield to wrong.

Prin.
Now olde man, for your daughter.

Fitz.
To see wrōg rule, my eyes run streams of water.

A noyse within.
Enter a Collier, crying a monster.
Col.

A monster, a monster: bring her out Robin, a
monster, a monster.

Sals.
Peace gaping fellowe: knowest thou where thou art?

Col.
Why? I am in Kent, within a mile of Douer.
Sbloud, where I am, peace, and a gaping fellow?
For all your dagger, wert not for your ging,
I would knocke my whipstocke on your addle head.
Come out with the monster, Robin.


Within.
I come, I come, helpe mee she scrats.

Col.
Ile gee her the lash: come out yee bearded witch.

Bring forth Ely, with a yarde in his hand, and linnen cloath, drest like a woman.
Ely.
Good fellowes let mee goe, there's gold to drinke.
I am a man, though in a womans weedes.
Yonders Prince Iohn, I pray yee let mee goe.

Qu.
What rude cōpanions haue we yonder Salsbury?

Col.
Shall we take his money?

2. Col.

No, no; this is the thiefe that robd master
Mighels, and came in like a woman in labour, I warrant
yee.

Sals.

Who haue yee here, honest colliers?

2. Col.

A monster, a monster: a woman with a bearde,
a man in a petticote. A monster, a monster.

Sals.
What my good Lord of Ely, is it you?
Ely is taken, here's the Chauncelor.

1. Col.
Pray God wee be not hangd for this tricke?

Qu.
What my good Lord?

Ely.
I, I, ambitious Ladie.

Prin.
Who, my Lord Chauncelour?

Ely.
I, you proud vsurper.

Sals.
What, is your surplesse turned to a smock?

Ely.
Peace Salsbury, thou changing weathercocke.

Chest.
Alas my Lord, I grieue to see this sight.

Ely.
Chester, it will be day for this darke night.

Fitz.
Ely, thou wert the foe to Huntington:
Robin thou knewest, was my adopted sonne:
O Ely, thou to him wert too too cruell,
With him fled hence Matilda, my faire Iewell:
For their wrong Ely, and thy hautie pride,
I helpt earle Iohn: but now I see thee lowe,
At thy distresse, my heart is full of woe.

Qu.
Needes must I see Fitzwaters ouerthrowe:
Iohn, I affect him not, he loues not thee,
Remooue him Iohn, least thou remooued bee.

Prin.
Mother, let mee alone: by one and one,
I will not leaue one, that enuies our good.
My Lord of Salsbury, giue these honest colliers,
For taking Ely, each a hundred markes.

Sals.
Come fellowes, goe with mee.

Col.
Thanke yee faith: farewell monster.

Exeunt Salsbury, colliers.
Prin.
Sheriffe of Kent, take Ely to your charge,
From Shreeue to Shreeue, send him to Notingham:
Where Warman, by our Patent, is high Shreeue.
There as a traitor let him be close kept,
And to his triall wee will follow straight.

Ely.
A traitor, Iohn?

Pr. Ioh.
Doe not expostulate.
You at your trial shal haue time to prate.

Exeūt cū Ely.
Firz.
God for thy pittie, what a time is here?

Pri.
Right gratious mother, wold your self & Chester
Would but withdrawe you for a little space,
While I conferre wt my good Lord Fitzwater.

Qu.
My Lord of Chester, will you walke aside?

Che.
Whether your Highnesse please, thither I wil.

Exeunt Chester, Queene.
Prin.
Souldiers, attend the person of our mother.
Exeūt.
Noble Fitzwater, now wee are alone,
What oft I haue desir'd, I will intreate,
Touching Matilda, fled with Huntington.

Fitz.
Of her what wold you touch? Touching her flight,
She is fledde hence with Robert, her true knight.

Prin.
Robert is outlawed, and Matilda free.
Why through his fault, should she exiled be?
She is your comfort, all your ages blisse.
Why should your age, so great a comfort misse?
She is all Englands beautie, all her pride.
In forren lands, why should that beautie bide?
Call her againe Fitzwater, call againe
Guiltlesse Matilda, beauties soueraigne.

Fitz.
I graunt prince Iohn, Matilda was my ioy,
And the faire sunne, that kept old winters frost,
From griping deade the marrowe of my bones:
And she is gone, yet where she is, God wote,
Aged Fitzwater truly guesseth not:
But where she is, there is kinde Huntington:
With my faire daughter, is my noble sonne.
If he may neuer be recald againe,
To call Matilda backe it is in vaine.

Prin.
Liuing with him, she liues in vitious state,
For Huntington is excommunicate:
And till his debts be paid, by Romes decree,
It is agreed, absolu'd he can not be:
And that can neuer be. So neuer wife,
But in a loath'd adult'rous beggers life,
Must faire Matilda liue: this you may amend,
And winne Prince Iohn your euer during friend.

Fitz.
As how, as how?

Prin.
Cal her from him: bring her to Englands Court,
Where like faire Phœbe, she may sit as Queene,
Ouer the sacred Honourable maids,
That doe attend the royall Queene, my mother.
There shall shee liue a Princes Cynthia,
And Iohn will be her true Endimion.

Fitz.
By this construction, she should be the Moone,
And you would be the man within the Moone.

Prin.
A pleasant exposition, good Fitzwater:
But if it fell so out, that I fell in,
You of my full ioyes should be chiefe partaker.

Fitz.
Iohn I defie thee: by my Honours hope,
I will not beare this base indignitie:
Take to thy tooles. Thinkst thou a Noble man
Will be a Pandar to his proper childe?
For what intendst thou else? seeing I knowe,
Earle Clepstowes daughter is thy married wife.
Come, if thou be a right Plantaginet,
Drawe and defende thee: oh our Ladie helpe
True English Lords, from such a tyrant Lord.
What, doest thou thinke I ieast? Nay by the Roode,
Ile loose my life, or purge thy lustfull bloode.

Prin.
What my olde Ruffian, lye at your warde?
Haue at your froward bosome, olde Fitzwater.

Fight: Iohn falles. Enter Queene, Chester, Salsbury hastily.
Fitz.
O that thou werte not Royal Richards brother,
Thou shouldst here die in presence of thy mother.
Iohn rises, all compasse Fitzwater, Fitzwater chafes.
What is he vp? Nay Lords, then giue vs leaue.

Chest.
What meanes this rage Fitzwater?

Qu.
Lay hands vpon the Bedlam, traitrous wretch.

Prin.
Nay hale him hence: & heare you old Fitzwater?
See that you stay not fiue daies in the Realme:
For if you doe, you die remedilesse.

Fitz.
Speak Lords, do you confirme what he hath said?

All.
He is our Prince, and he must be obaid.

Fitz.
Harken earle Iohn, but one word will I say.

Prin. Ioh.
I will not heare thee, neither will I stay.
Thou knowest thy time.

Exit.
Fitz.
Will not your Highnesse heare?

Qu.
No: thy Matilda robd mee of my deare.

Exit.
Fitz.
I aided thee in battell Salsbury.

Sals.
Prince Iohn is moou'd, I dare not stay with thee.

Fitz.
Gainst thee and Ely, Chester, was I foe?
And dost thou stay to aggrauate my woe?

Chest.
No, good Fitzwater, Chester doth lament
Thy wrong, thy sodaine banishment.
Whence grue the quarrell twixt the Prince and thee?

Fitz.
Chester, the diuell tempted old Firzwater,
To be a Pandar to his only daughter,
And my great heart (impatient) forst my hand,
In my true Honours right to chalenge him:
Alas the while, wrong will not be reproou'd.

Chest.
Farewell Fitzwater: wheresoere thou bee,
By letters, I beseech thee, send to mee.

Exit.
Fitz.
Chester, I will, I will.
Heauens turne, to good, this woe, this wrong, this ill.

Exit.
Enter Scathlocke and Scarlet, winding their hornes at seuerall doores. To them enter Robin Hoode, Matilda all in greene, Scathlockes mother, Much, little Iohn, all the men with bowes and arrowes.
Rob.
Widowe, I wish thee homeward now to wend:
Least Warmans malice worke thee any wrong.

Wid.
Master I will, and mickle good attend
On thee, thy loue, and all these yeomen strong.

Mat.
Forget not widowe, what you promise mee.

Much.
O I mistresse, for gods sake lets haue Iinny.

Wid.
You shall haue Iinny sent you wt all speede.
Sonnes farewell, and by your mothers reede,
Loue well your master: blessing euer fall
On him, your mistresse, and these yeomen tall.

Exit.
Much.

God be with you mother, haue much minde I
pray on Much, your sonne, and your daughter Iinny.

Rob.
Wind once more, iolly 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, deaths winged darts,
Bring sodaine summons for their fatall ends.

Scar.
Its ful seauen years since we were outlawed first,
And wealthy Sherewood was our heritage:
For all those yeares we raigned vncontrolde:
From Barnsdale shrogs, to Notinghams red cliffes,
At Blithe and Tickhill were we welcome guests.
Good George a Greene at Bradford was our friend,
And wanton Wakefields Pinner lou'd vs well.
At Barnsley dwels a Potter tough and strong,
That neuer brookt, we brethren should haue wrong.
The Nunnes of Farnsfield, pretty Nunnes they bee,
Gaue napkins, shirts, and bands to him and mee.
Bateman of Kendall, gaue vs Kendall greene,
And Sharpe of Leedes, sharpe arrowes for vs made:
At Rotheram dwelt our bowyer, God him blisse,
Iackson he hight, his bowes did neuer misse.
This for our good, 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 my selfe were twaine:
Many resisted, but it was in vaine,
For of them all we wonne the mastery,
And the gilt wreathes, were giuen to him and mee.
There by sir Doncaster of Hethersfield,
Wee were bewraid, beset, and forst to yield:
And so borne bound, from thence to Notingham,
Where we lay doom'd to death, till Warman came.

Rob.
Of that enough. What cheere my dearest loue?

Much.

O good cheare anone sir, she shall haue venson
her bellyfull.

Mat.
Matilda is as ioyfull of thy good,
As ioy can make her: how fares Robin Hood?

Rob.
Well my Matilda, and if thou agree,
Nothing but mirth shall waite on thee and mee.

Mat.
O God, how full of perfect mirth were I,
To see thy griefe turnd to true iollitie!

Rob.
Giue me thy hand; now gods curse on me light,
If I forsake not griefe, in griefes despight.
Much, make a cry, and yeomen stand yee round:
I charge yee neuer more let woefull sound
Be heard among yee; but what euer fall,
Laugh griefe to scorne; and so make sorrowes small.
Much, make a cry, and loudly little Iohn.

Much.

O God, O God, helpe, helpe, helpe, I am vndoone,
I am vndoone.

Ioh.

Why how now Much? peace, peace, you roaring
slaue.

Much.

My master bid mee cry, and I will cry till hee
bid me leaue; Helpe, helpe, helpe: I mary will I.

Rob.
Peace Much; reade on the Articles good Iohn.

Ioh.
First, no man must presume to call our master,
By name of Earle, Lord, Baron, Knight, or Squire:
But simply by the name of Robin Hoode.

Rob.
Say yeomen, to this order will ye yielde?

All.
We yield to serue our master Robin Hoode.

Iohn.
Next tis agreed (if therto shee agree)
That faire Matilda henceforth change her name,
And while it is the chance of Robin Hoode,
To liue in Sherewodde a poore outlawes life,
She, by maid Marians name, be only cald.

Mat.
I am contented; reade on little Iohn,
Henceforth let me be nam'd maid Marian.

Ioh.
Thirdly no yeoman, following Robin Hoode
In Sherewod, shall vse widowe, wife, or maid,
But by true labour, lustfull thoughts expell.

Rob.
How like yee this?

All.
Master, we like it well.

Muc.
But I cry no to it. What shal I do wt Iinny then?

Scar.

Peace Much; goe forwarde with the orders, fellowe
Iohn.

Iohn.
Fourthly, no passenger with whom ye meete,
Shall yee let passe till hee with Robin feast:
Except a Poast, a Carrier, or such folke,
As vse with foode to serue the market townes.

All.
An order which we gladly will obserue.

Ioh.
Fiftly, yon neuer shall the poore man wrong,
Nor spare a Priest, a vsurer, or a clarke.

Much.
Nor a faire wench, meete we her in the darke.

Iohn.
Lastly, you shall defend with all your power,
Maids, widowes, Orphants, and distressed men.

All.
All these wee 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 Soueraigns of your toyles,
Will wait, within our bower, your bent bowes spoiles.

Much.
Ile among them master.

Exeunt winding their hornes.
Rob.
Marian, thou seest though courtly pleasurs want,
Yet country sport, in Sherewodde is not scant:
For the soule-rauishing delicious sound
Of instrumentall musique, we haue found
The winged quiristers, with diuers notes,
Sent from their quaint recording prettie throats,
On euery braunch that compasseth our bower:
Without commaund, contenting vs each hower.
For Arras hangings, and rich Tapestrie,
We haue sweete natures best imbrothery.
For thy steele glasse, wherein thou wontst to looke,
Thy Christall eyes, gaze in a Christall brooke.
At Court, a flower or two did decke thy head:
Now with whole garlands is it circled.
For what in wealth we want, we haue in flowers,
And what wee loose in halles, we finde in bowers.

Mar.
Marian hath all, sweete Robert, hauing thee,
And guesses thee as rich, in hauing mee.

Rob.
I am indeede:
For hauing thee, what comfort can I neede?

Mar.
Goe in, goe in.
To part such true loue Robin, it were sinne.

Exeunt.
Enter Prior, sir Doncaster, Frier Tucke.
Pri.
To take his bodie, by the blessed Roode,
Twold doe me more, than any other, good.

Don.
O tis an vnthrift, still the Churchmens foe,
An ill end will betide him, that I knowe.
Twas hee that vrg'd the king to sesse the clergie,
When to the holy land he tooke his iorney:
And he it is that rescued those two theeues,
Scarlet and Scathlocke; that so manie grieues
To Churchmen did: and now they say,
Hee keepes in Sherewod, and himselfe doth play
The lawlesse Rener: heare you, my Lord Prior,
He must be taken, or it will be wrong.

Pri.
I, and he shall bee to.

Tuc.
I, I; soone sed: But ere he be, many wil lie deade:
Except it be by sleight.

Don.
I there, there, Frier.

Tuck.
Giue mee my Lord your execution.
The widowe Scarlets daughter, louely Iinny,
Loues, and is belou'd of Much the millers sonne,
If I can get the girle to goe with mee,
Disguis'd in habit, like a Pedlers mort,
Ile serue this Execution, on my life,
And single out a time alone to take
Robin, that often carelesse walkes alone.
Why? answere not, remember what I saide,
Yonder I see comes Iinny, that faire maide:
If wee agree, then back me soone with aide.

Enter Iinny with a fardle.
Prior.
Tuck if thou doe it,

Don.
Pray you doe not talke.
As we were strangers, let vs carelesse walke.

Iin.
Now to the greene wodde wend I, god me speede.

Tuck.
Amen faire maid, and send thee, in thy neede,
Much, that is borne to doe thee much good deeds.

Iin.
Are you there Frier? nay then yfaith we haue it.

Tuck.
What wenche? my loue?

Iin.
I, gee't mee when I craue it.

Tuck.
Unaskt I offer, pre thee sweete girle take it.

Iin.
Gifts stinke with proffer, foh Frier, I forsake it.

Tuck.
I will be kinde.

Iin.
Will not your kindnesse kill her?

Tuck.
With loue?

Iin.
You cogge.

Tuck.
Tut girle I am no miller: heare in your eare.

Don.
The Frier courts her.

Pri.
Tush, let him alone,
He is our Ladies Chaplaine, but serues Ione.

Don.
Then, from the Friers fault perchance, it may be
The prouerbe grew, Ione's taken for my Ladie.

Pri.
Peace good sir Doncaster, list to the end.

Iin.
But meane yee faith and troth, shall I go weye?

Tuck.
Upon my faith, I doe intend good faith.

Iin.
And shall I haue the pinnes and laces too,
If I beare a Pedlers packe with you?

Tuck.
As I am holy Frier, Iinny thou shalt.

Iin.
Well, there's my hand, see Frier you do not halt.

Tuck.
Goe but before into the miry mead,
And keepe the path that doth to Farnsfield lead:
Ile into Suthwell, and buy all the knacks,
That shall fit both of vs for Pedlers packes.

Iin.
Who be they two that yonder walke, I prey?

Tuck.
Iinny, I knowe not, be they what they may,
I care not for them, pre thee doe dot stay:
But make some speede, that we were gone away.

Iin.
Wel Frier, I trust you that we go to Sherewod.

Tuck.
I by my beads, and vnto Robin Hoode.

Iin.
Make speede good Frier.
Exit Iinny.

Tuck.
Iinny, doe not feare.
Lord Prior, now you heare
As much as I; get mee two Pedlers packes,
Points, laces, looking glasses, pinnes and knackes:
And let sir Doncaster with some wight lads,
Followe vs close: and ere these fortie howers,
Upon my life, earle Robert shall be ours.

Pri.
Thou shalt haue any thing, my dearest Frier,
And in amends, Ile make thee my subprior.
Come good sir Doncaster, and if wee thriue,
Weele frolicke with the Nunnes of Leeds beliue.

Exeunt.
Enter Fitzwater, like an olde man.
Fitz.
Well did he write, and mickle did he knowe,
That said this worlds felicitie was woe,
Which greatest states can hardly vndergoe.
Whilom Fitzwater in faire Englands Court,
Possest felicitie and happie state:
And in his hall blithe fortune kept her sport:
Which glee, one howre of woe did ruinate.
Fitzwater once had castles, townes, and towers,
Faire gardens, orchards, and delightfull bowers:
But now nor garden, orchard, towne, nor tower
Hath poore Fitzwater left within his power.
Only wide walkes are left mee in the world,
Which these stiffe limmes wil hardly let me tread:
And when I sleepe, heauens glorious canopy
Mee and my mossie coutch doth ouer-spreade.
Of this, iniurious Iohn can not bereaue mee,
The aire and earth he (while I liue) must leaue mee.
But from the English aire and earth, poore man,
His tyranny hath ruthlesse thee exil'd:
Yet ere I leaue it, Ile do what I can,
To see Matilda, my faire lucklesse childe:
Curtaines open, Robin Hoode sleepes on a greene banke, and Marian strewing flowers on him.
And in good time, see where my comfort stands,
And by her lyes deiected Huntington.
Looke how my flower holds flowers in her hands,
And flings those sweetes, vpon my sleeping sonne.
Ile close mine eyes as if I wanted sight,
That I may see the end of their delight.

Goes knocking with his staffe.
Mar.
What aged man art thou? or by what chance,
Cam'st thou thus farre into the wailesse wodde?

Fitz.
Widowe or wife, or maiden if thou be,
Lend mee thy hand: thou seest I cannot see.
Blessing betide thee, little feel'st thou want:
With mee, good childe, foode is both hard and scant.
These smooth euen vaines, assure mee he is kinde,
What ere he be, my girle, that thee doth finde.
I poore and olde am reft of all earths good,
And desperately am crept into this wodde,
To seeke the poore mans patron, Robin Hoode.

Mar.
And thou art welcome, welcome aged man,
I ten times welcome, to maid Marian.
Sit downe olde father, sit and call me daughter.
O God, how like he lookes to olde Fitzwater!

Runs in.
Fitz.
Is my Matilda cald maid Marian?
I wonder why her name is changed thus.

Brings wine, meate.
Mar.
Here's wine to cheere thy hart: drink aged man.
There's venson and a knife, here's manchet fine:
Drinke good old man, I pre you drinke more wine.
My Robin stirres, I must sing him a sleepe.

Rob.
Nay, you haue wak't me Marian wt your talke.
What man is that, is come within our walke?

Mar.
An aged man, a silly sightlesse man,
Neere pin'd with hunger: see how fast he eates.

Rob.
Much good may't doe him. Neuer is good meat
Ill spent on such a stomacke. Father proface:
To Robin Hood thou art a welcome man.

Fitz.
I thanke you master. Are you Robin Hood?

Rob.
Father, I am.

Fitz.
God giue your soule much good,
For this good meat maid Marian hath giuen mee.
But heare you master, can you tell mee newes,
Where faire Matilda is, Fitzwaters daughter.

Rob.
Why? here she is, this Marian is shee.

Fitz.
Why did she chaunge her name?

Rob-
What's that to thee?

Fitz.
Yes, I could weepe for griefe that it is so:
But that my teares are all dryed vp with woe.

Rob.
Why? shee is cald maid Marian, honest friend,
Because she liues a spotlesse maiden life:
And shall, till Robins outlawe life haue ende,
That he may lawfully take her to wife;
Which, if king Richard come, will not be long:
For, in his hand is power to right our wrong.

Fitz.
If it be thus, I ioy in her names change,
So pure loue in these times is very strange.

Mar.
Robin, I thinke it is my aged father.

Rob.
Tell mee old man, tell me in curtesie.
Are you no other than you seeme to be?

Fitz.
I am a wretched aged man, you see:
If you will doe mee ought for charitie,
Further than this, sweete, doe not question mee.

Rob.
You shall haue your desire, but what be these?

Enter Frier Tucke, and Iinny, like Pedlers, singing.
What lacke ye? what lacke yee? what ist ye wil buy?
Any points, pins, or laces, any laces, points or pins?
Fine gloues, fine glasses, any buskes, or maskes?
Or any other prettie things?
Come cheape for loue, or buy for money.
Any cony cony skins,
For laces, points, or pins? faire maids come chuse or buy.
I haue prettie poting sticks,
And many other tricks, come chuse for loue, or buy
for money.

Rob.
Pedler, I pre thee set thy packe downe here:
Marian shall buy, if thou be not too deare.

Tuck.
Iinny, vnto thy mistresse shewe thy packe,
Master for you I haue a pretty knacke:
From farre I brought it, please you see the same.

Enter Frier like a Pedler, and Iinny, sir Doncaster, and others weaponed.
Fri.
Sir Doncaster, are not we Pedlerlike?

Don.
Yes, passing fit, and yonder is the bower:
I doubt not wee shall haue him in our power.

Fri.
You and your companie were best stand close,

Don.
What shal the watchword be to bring vs forth?

Fri.
Take it I pray, though it be much more worth.
When I speake that aloude, be sure I serue
The execution presently on him.

Don.
Frier, looke too't.

Fri.
Now Iinny to your song.

Sings.
Enter Marian, Robin.
Mar.
Pedler, what prettie toyes haue you to sell?

Fri.
Iinny, vnto our mistresse shewe your ware.

Mar.
Come in good woman.

Exit.
Fr.
Master, looke here, and God giue care,

So mote I thee, to her and mee, if euer wee, Robin to
thee, that art so free, meane treachery.

Rob.
On Pedler to thy packe,
If thou loue mee, my loue thou shalt not lacke.

Fri.

Master, in briefe, there is a theefe, that seekes
your griefe, God send reliefe, to you in neede: for a foule
deede, if not with speede, you take good heede, there is
decreede.

In yonder brake, there lies a snake, that meanes to
take, out of this wodde, the yeoman good, calde Robin
Hoode.

Rob.

Pedler, I pre thee be more plaine: what brake?
what snake? what trappe? what traine?

Fri.

Robin, I am a holy Frier, sent by the Prior, who
did mee hire, for to conspire thy endlesse woe, and ouerthrowe:
but thou shalt knowe, I am the man, whome
little Iohn, from Notingham, desir'd to be, a clarke to
thee; for hee to mee, saide thou wert free, and I did see,
thy honestie; from gallowe tree, when thou didst free
Scathlocke and Scarlet certaine.

Rob.
Why then it seemes that thou art Frier Tucke.

Fri.
Master, I am,

Rob.
I pray thee frier say,
What treachery is meant to mee this day?

Fri.
First winde your horne; then drawe your sworde:
Hee windes his horne.
For I haue giuen a friers worde,
To take your bodie prisoner:
And yield you to sir Doncaster,
The enuious Priest of Hothersfield:
Whose power your bushie wodde doth shielde:
But I will die, ere you shall yield.
Enter little Iohn &c:
And sith your yeomen doe appeare,
Ile giue the watchword without feare:
Take it I pray thee, though it be more worth.

Rushe in Doncaster with his crue.
Don.
Smite down, lay hold on outlawed Huntington.

Iohn.
Soft hot spurd priest, tis not so quickly done.

Don.
Now out alas, the frier and the maide
Haue, to false theeues, sir Doncaster betraide.

Enter Iohn crowned, Queene Elianor, Chester, Salsbury, Lord Prior, sit downe all. Warman stands.
Ioh.
As Gods Uicegerent, Iohn ascends this throne,
His head impal'd with Englands Diademe,
And in his hand the awfull rodde of rule,
Giuing the humble, place of excellence,
And to the lowe earth, casting downe the proude.

Qu.
Such vpright rule, is in each Realme allowed.

Iohn.
Chester, you once were Elies open friend,
And yet are doubtfull whether he deserue
A publicke triall for his priuate wrongs.

Chest.
I still am doubtfull, whether it be fit
To punish priuate faults with publicke shame,
In such a person as Lord Ely is.

Prior.
Yes Honorable Chester, more it fits
To make apparant, sinnes of mightie men,
And on their persons sharpely to correct
A little fault, a very small defect;
Than on the poore, to practise chastisement.
For if a poore man die, or suffer shame,
Only the poore and vile respect the same:
But if the migtie fall, feare then besets
The proud harts of the mightie ones, his mates:
They thinke the world is garnished with nets,
And trappes ordained to intrappe their states,
Which feare, in them, begets a feare of ill,
And makes them good, contrary to their will.

Iohn.
Your Lordship hath said right: Lord Salsbury,
Is not your minde as ours, concerning Ely?

Sals.
I iudge him worthy of reproofe and shame.

Iohn.
Warman, bring forth your prisoner, Ely the Chancellor,
And wt him, bring the seale that he detains.
Warman why goest thou not?

War.
Be good to mee my Lord.

Iohn.
What hast thou done?

War.
Speake for mee my Lord Prior.
All my good Lords, intreate his Grace for mee.
Ely, my Lord

Iohn.
Why? where is Ely Warman?

War.
Fled to day, this mistie morning he is fled away.

Io.
O Iudas, whom nor friend, nor foe may trust,
Thinkst thou with teares and plaints to answere this?
Doe I not knowe thy heart? doe not I knowe,
That bribes haue purchast Ely this escape?
Neuer make anticke faces, neuer bende,
With fained humblesse, thy still crouching kne:
But with fixt eyes, vnto thy doome attend.
Uillane, Ile plague thee for abusing mee:
Goe hence, and henceforth neuer set thy foote
In house or fielde, thou didst this day possesse.
Marke what I say, aduise thee to looke too't,
Or else be sure thou diest remedilesse.
Nor from those houses see that thou receiue
So much as shall sustaine thee for an hower:
But as thou art, goe where thou canst get friends,
And hee that feedes thee, be mine enemie.

War.
O my good Lord.

Ioh.
Thou thy good Lord betrayedst,
And all the world for money thou wilt sell.

War.
What saies the Queene?

Qu,
Why thus I say:
Betray thy master, thou wilt all betray.

War.
My Lords, of Chester and of Salsbury?

Both.
Speake not to vs, all traitors we defie.

War.
Good my Lord Prior.

Pri.
Alas, what can I doe?

War.
Then I defie the worlde: yet I desire
Your Grace would read this supplication.

Iohn reades.
Ioh.
I thought as much: but Warman dost thou thinke
There is one mouing line to mercie here?
I tell thee no; therefore away, away:
A shamefull death followes thy longer stay.

War.
O poore poore man:
Of miserable, miserablest wretch I am.

Exit.
Iohn.
Confusion be thy guide: a baser slaue
Earth cannot beare, plagues followe him I craue.
Can any tell mee if my Lord of Yorke
Be able to sit vp.

Qu.
The Archbishoppes Grace
Was reasonable well euen now, good sonne.

Sals.
And he desir'd mee that I should desire
Your Maiestie to send vnto his Grace,
If any matter did import his presence.

Ioh.
Wee will our selues steppe in and visit him.
Mother, and my good Lords, will you attend vs?

Prior.
I gladly will attend your Maiestie.

Ihon.
Now good Lord helpe vs:
When I saide good Lords,
I meant not you Lord Prior: Lord I know you are:
But good, God knowes, you neuer meane to bee.

Exeunt Iohn, Queene, Chester, Salsbury.
Prior.
Iohn is incenst, and very much I doubt
That villane Warman hath accused mee,
About the scape of Ely: well, suppose he haue:
Whats that to mee? I am a Cleargie man,
And all his power, if hee all extend,
Cannot preuaile against my holy order;
But the Archbishoppes Grace is now his friend,
And may perchance attempt to doe me ill.
Enter a seruing man.
What newes with you sir?

Ser.
Euen heauie news my Lord: for the light fire
Falling, in manner of a fier Drake,
Upon a barne of yours, hath burnt six barnes,
And not a strike of corne reseru'd from dust.
No hand could saue it, yet ten thousand hands,
Labourd their best, though none for loue of you:
For euery tongue with bitter cursing band,
Your Lordshippe as the viper of the land.

Prior.
What meant the villanes?

Sor.
Thus and thus they cride;
Upon this churle, this hoorder vp of corne,
This spoyler of the Earle of Huntington,
This lust-defiled, mercilesse false Prior,
Heauen raigneth vengeance downe in shape of fier.
Old wiues that scarce could with their crouches creep,
And little babes, that newly learnde to speake,
Men masterlesse that thorough want did weepe,
All in one voice, with a confused cry,
In execrations band you bitterly,
Plague followe plague, they cry, he hath vndone
The good Lord Robert, Earle of Huntington:
And then
What then, thou villane? Get thee from my sight.
They that wish plagues, plagues wil vpon them light.

Enter another seruant.
Pri.
What are your tidings?

Ser.
The Couent of Saint Maries are agreed,
And haue elected, in your Lordshippes place,
Olde father Ierome, who is stald Lord Prior,
By the newe Archbishoppe,

Pri.
Of Yorke thou meanst.
A vengeance on him, he is my hopes foe.
Enter a Herald.
Gilbert de Hood late Prior of Saint Maries,
Our Soueraigne Iohn commandeth thee by mee,
That presently thou leaue this blessed land,
Defiled with the burden of thy sinne.
All thy goods temporall and spirituall,
(With free consent of Hubert Lorde Yorke,
Primate of England and thy Ordinary)
He hath suspended, and vow'd by heauen,
To hang thee vp, if thou depart not hence,
Without delaying or more question:
And that he hath good reason for the same,
He sends this writing firm'd with Warmans hand,
And comes himselfe: whose presence if thou stay,
I feare this Sunne will see thy dying day.

Pri.
O, Warman hath betraid mee: woe is mee.

Enter Iohn, Queene, Chester, Salsbury.
Ioh.
Hence with that Prior, sirra do not speake,
My eyes are full of wrath, my heart of wreake:
Let Lester come: his hault hart, I am sure,
Will checke the kingly course we vndertake.

Exeunt cum Prior.
Enter Lester, drumme and Ancient.
Iho.
Welcome from warre thrice noble earle of Lester:
Unto our Court, welcome most valiant earle.

Lest.
Your Court in England, & king Richard gone,
A king in England, and the king from home:
This sight and salutations are so strange,
That what I should, I know not how to speake,

Ioh.
What would you say? speake boldly, we intreat.

Lest.
It is not feare, but wonder barres my speach;
I muse to see a mother and a Queene,
Two Peeres, so great as Salsbury and Chester,
Sit and support proud vsurpation,
And see king Richards crowne, worne by earle Iohn.

Qu.
He sits as viceroy and a substitute.

Chest.
He must and shal resigne when Richard comes.

Sals.
Chester, he will without your must and shall.

Lest.
Whether he will or no, he shall resigne.

Ioh.
You knowe your own will Lester, but not mine.

Lest.
Tell me among ye, where is reuerent Ely,
Left by our dreade king, as his deputie?

Iohn.
Banisht he is, as proud vsurpers should.

Lest.
Pride then, belike, was enemy to pride:
Ambition in your selfe, his state enuied.
Where is Fitzwater, that old honoured Lord?

Ioh.
Dishonourd and exil'd, as Ely is.

Lest.
Exil'd he may be, but dishonourd neuer:
He was a fearelesse souldier, and a vertuous scholler.
But where is Huntington, that noble youth?

Chest.
Undoone by ryot.

Lest.
Ah, the greater ruth.

Iohn.
Lester, you question more than doth become you:
On to the purpose, why you come to vs.

Lest.
I came to Ely, and to all the State,
Sent by the king, who three times sent before,
To haue his ransome brought to Austria:
And if you be elected deputie,
Doe as you ought, and send the ransome money.

Ioh.
Lester, you see I am no deputie:
And Richards ransome if you doe require,
Thus wee make answere: Richard is a king,
In Cyprus, Acon, Acres, and rich Palestine:
To get those kingdomes England lent him men,
And many a million of her substance spent,
The very entrals of her wombe was rent.
No plough but paid a share, no needy hand,
But from his poore estate of penurie,
Unto his voyage offered more than mites,
And more, poore soules, than they had might to spare:
Yet were they ioyfull. For still flying newes,
And lying I perceiue them now to be,
Came of king Richards glorious victories,
His conquest of the Souldans, and such tales,
As blewe them vp with hope, when he returnd,
He would haue scattered gold about the streetes.

Lest.
Doe Princes fight for gold? O leaden thought!
Your father knewe, that honour was the aime
Kings leuell at: by sweete Saint Iohn I sweare,
You vrge mee so that I cannot forbeare.
What doe you tell of money lent the King,
When first he went into this holy warre?
As if he had extorted from the poore,
When you, the Queene, and all that heare me speake,
Know with what zeale the people gaue their goods:
Olde wiues tooke siluer buckles from their belts,
Young maids the gilt pins that tuckt vp their traines,
Children their prettie whistles from their neckes,
And euery man what he did most esteeme,
Crying to souldiours; Weare these gifts of ours.
This prooues that Richard had no neede to wrong,
Or force the people, that with willing hearts
Gaue more than was desir'd. And where you say,
You guesse Richards victories but lies:
I sweare he wan rich Cyprus with his sworde:
And thence, more glorious than the guide of Greece,
That brought so huge a fleete to Tenedos,
He saild along the Mediterran sea:
Where on a Sunbright morning he did meete
The warlike souldiours, well prepared fleete.
O still mee thinkes I see king Richard stand,
In his guilt armour staind with Pagans blood,
Upon a gallies prowe, like warres fierce God,
And on his crest, a Crucifix of golde.
O that daies honour can be neuer tolde:
Six times six seuerall Brigandines he boarded,
And in the greedie waues flung wounded Turkes,
And three times thrice the winged Gallies bankes,
(Wherin the Souldans sonne was Admirall)
In his owne person royall Richard smooth'd,
And left no heathen hand to be vpheau'd
Against the Christian souldiers.

Iohn.
Lester, so:
Did he all this?

Lest.
I by God hee did,
And more than this; nay ieast at it Iohn:
I sweare hee did, by Lesters faith hee did,
And made the greene sea red with Pagan blood,
Leading to Ioppa, glorious victory,
And following feare that fled vnto the foe.

Iohn.
All this hee did, perchance all this was so.

Lest.
Holy God helpe mee, souldiers come away:
This carpet knight sits carping at our scarres,
And ieasts at those most glorious well fought warres.

Ioh.
Lester, you are too hot: stay, goe not yet:
Me thinkes, if Richard wonne these victories,
The wealthie kingdomes, he hath conquered,
May better than poore England pay his ransome.
He left this Realme as a young orphant maid,
To Ely, the stepfather of this state,
That stript the virgin to her very skinne:
And Lester, had not Iohn more carefull bin
Than Richard, at this hower, Englād had not Englād bin.
Therefore good warlike Lord, take this in briefe:
We wish king Richard well,
But can send no reliefe.

Lest.
O, let not my heart breake wt inward griefe.

Ioh.
Yes let it Lester, it is not amisse,
That twenty such hearts breake, as your heart is.

Lest.
Are you a mother? were you Englands Queene?
Were Henry, Richard, Gefferey (your sonnes)
All sonnes, but Richard, sunne of all those sonnes?
And can you let this little meteor,
This ignis Fatuus, this same wandring fire,
This Goblin of the night, this brand, this sparke,
Seeme through a lanthorne, greater than he is?
By heauen you doe not well, by earth you doe not.
Chester, nor you, nor you earle Salsbury,
Ye doe not, no yee doe not what yee should.

Q.
Were this Beare loose, how he wold tear our mawes!

Che.
Pale death & vengeance dwel within his iawes.

Sals.
But we can muzzle him, and binde his pawes,
If king Iohn say we shall, wee will indeede.

Ioh.
Doe if you can.

Lest.
Its well thou hast some feare:
No curres, ye haue no teethe to baite this Beare.
I will not bid mine ensigne bearer waue
My tottered colours in this worthlesse aire,
Which your vile breathes vilely contaminate.
Beare, thou hast bene my Auncient bearer long,
And borne vp Lesters Beare in forren lands:
Yet now resigne these colours to my hands.
For I am full of griefe, and full of rage.
Iohn, looke vpon mee, thus did Richard take
The coward Austrias colours in his hand,
And thus he cast them vnder Acon walles,
And thus he trod them vnderneath his feete.
Rich colours, how I wrong ye by this wrong!
But I will right yee: Beare, take them againe,
And keepe them euer, euer them maintaine.
We shall haue vse for them I hope, ere long.

Ioh.
Darest thou attempt thus proudly in our sight?

Lest.
What ist a subiect dares, that I dare not?

Sals.
Dare subiects dare, their Soueraigne being by?

Lest.
O God, that my true Soueraigne were ny.

Qu.
Lester, he is.

Lest.
Madam, by God you ly.

Chest.
Unmannerd man.

Lest.
A plague of reuerence,
Where no regard is had of excellence.
Sound drum.
But you will quit mee nowe; I heare your drummes,
Your principalitie hath stird vp men,
And now ye thinke to muzzle vp this Beare:
Still they come nearer, but are not the neare.

Ioh.
What drums are these?

Sals.
I thinke some friends of yours
Prepare a power to resist this wrong.

Lest.
Let them prepare; for Lester is preparde,
And thus he wooes his willing men to fight;
Souldiers, yee see king Richards open wrong,
Richard that led yee to the glorious East,
And made yee treade vpon the blessed land,
Where he, that brought all Christians blessednesse,
Was borne, liued, wrought his miracles, and died,
From death arose, and then to heauen ascended;
Whose true religious faith ye haue defended.
Yee fought, and Richard taught yee how to fight,
Against prophane men, following Mahomet:
But if ye note, they did their kings their right,
These more than heathen, sacrilegious men,
Professing Christ, banish Christs champion hence,
Their lawfull Lord, their homeborne Soueraigne,
With pettie quarrels, and with slight pretence.
Enter Richmond, souldiers.
O let me be as short as time is short,
For the arm'd foe is now within our sight.
Remember how gainst ten, one man did fight,
So hundreds against thousands, haue borne head:
You are the men that euer conquered.
If multitudes oppresse ye that ye die,
Lets sell our liues, and leaue them valiantly:
Courage, vpon them, till wee cannot stand.

Ioh.
Richmond is yonder.

Qu.
I, and sonne, I thinke,
The king is not farre off.

Chest.
Now heauen forfend.

Lest.
Why smite ye not, but stand thus cowardly?

Rich.
If Richmond hurt good Lester, let him die.

Lest.
Richmond, O pardon mine offending eye,
That tooke thee for a foe; welcome deare friend;
Where is my Soueraigne Richard? Thou and he
Were both in Austria: Richmond, comfort mee,
And tell mee where he is, and how he fares.
O, for his ransome, many thousand cares
Haue mee afflicted.

Rich.
Lester, he is come to London,
And will himselfe to faithlesse Austria,
Like a true king, his promis'd ransome beare.

Lest.
At London saist thou Richmond, is he there?
Farewell, I will not stay to tell my wrongs,
To these pale coloured, hartlesse, guiltie Lords.
Richmond, you shall goe with mee, doe not stay,
And I will tell you wonders by the way.

Rich.
The king did doubt you had some iniury,
And therefore sent this power to rescue yee.

Lest.
I thanke his Grace. Madam adieu, adieu.
Ile to your sonne, and leaue your shade with you.

Exeunt.
Ioh.
Harke how he mocks mee, calling me your shade.
Chester and Salsbury, shall wee gather power,
And keepe what we haue got?

Chest.
And in an hower,
Be taken, iudg'd, and headed with disgrace?
Salsbury, what say you?

Sals.
My Lord, I bid your excellence adieu—
I, to king Richard, will submit my knee,
I haue good hope his Grace will pardon mee.

Chest.
And Salsbury, Ile goe along with thee.
Farewell Queene mother, fare you well Lord Iohn.

Ioh.
Mother, stay you,

Qu.
Not I sonne, by Saint Anne,

Ioh.
Will you not stay?

Qu.
Goe with me: I will doe the best I may,
To beg my sonnes forgiuenesse of my sonne.

Exit.
Iohn.
Goe by your selfe. By heauen twas long of you,
I rose to fall so soone. Lester and Richmonds crue,
They come to take me. Now too late I rue
My proud attempt: like falling Phaeton,
I perish from my guiding of the sunne.

Lest.
I will goe backe yfaith once more and see,
Whether this mock-king and the mother Queene,
And: who! heres neither Queene nor Lord.
What, king of Crickets, is there none but you?
Come off, off: this crowne, this scepter are king Richards right:
Beare thou them Richmond, thou art his true knight.
You would not send his ransome, gentle Iohn:
He's come to fetch it now. Come wily Fox,
Now you are stript out of the Lyons case,
What, dare you looke the Lyon in the face?
The English Lyon, that in Austria,
With his strong hand, puld out a Lyons heart.
Good Richmond tell it mee; for Gods sake doe:
Oh, it does mee good to heare his glories tolde.

Richm.
Lester, I saw king Richard with his fist,
Strike deade the sonne of Austrian Leopold,
And then I sawe him, by the Dukes commaund,
Compast and taken by a troope of men,
Who led king Richard to a Lyons denne,
Opening the doore and in a paued court,
The cowards left king Richard weaponlesse.
Anone comes forthe the fier-eyde dreadfull beast,
And with a heart-amazing voice he roarde,
Opening (like hell) his iron toothed iawes,
And stretching out his fierce death-threatning pawes,
I tell thee Lester, and I smile thereat,
(Though then, God knowes, I had no power to smile)
I stoode by treacherous Austria all the while:
Who in a gallery, with iron grates,
Staid to beholde king Richard made a prey.

Lest.
What wast, thou smilest at in Austria?

Rich.
Lester, he shooke, so helpe me God, he shooke,
With very terrour, at the Lyons looke.

Lest.
Ah coward: but goe on what Richard did?

Rich.
Richard about his right hand wound a scarfe
(God quit her for it) giuen him by a maide,
With endlesse good may that good deede be paid,
And thrust that arme downe the deuowring throat
Of the fierce Lyon, and withdrawing it,
Drewe out the strong heart of the monstrous beast,
And left the senselesse bodie on the ground.

Lest.
O royall Richard! Richmond, looke on Iohn:
Does he not quake in hearing this discourse?
Come, we will leaue him Richmond, let vs goe,
Iohn, make sute for grace, yt is your means you knowe.

Exeunt.
Ioh.
A mischiefe on that Lester: is he gone?
I were best goe too, least in some mad fit,
He turne againe, and leade me prisoner.
Southward I dare not flie: faine faine I would,
To Scotland bend my course: but all the woddes
Are full of Outlawes, that in Kendall greene,
Followe the outlawed earle of Huntington.
Well, I will cloath my selfe in such a sute,
And by that meanes aswell scape all pursuite,
As passe the daunger-threatning Huntington:
For hauing many outlawes theyl thinke mee,
By my attire, one of their mates to be.

Exit.
Enter Scarlet, Iohn, and Frier Tucke.
Fri.
Scarlet and Iohn, so God me saue,
No minde vnto my beades I haue:
I thinke it be a lucklesse day;
For I can neither sing, nor say,
Nor haue I any power to looke,
On Portasse, or on Mattins booke.

Scar.
What is the reason, tell vs Frier?

Fri.
And would yee haue mee be no lyer.

Ioh.
No: God defend that you should lie,
A Churchman be a lyer? fie.

Fri.
Then by this hallowed Crucifixe,
The holy water, and the pixe,
It greatly at my stomacke stickes,
That all this day we had no guesse,
And haue of meate so many a messe.

Much bring out Ely, like a country man with a basket.
Much.

Well: and ye be but a market, ye are but a market
man.

Ely.
I am sure sir, I doe you no hurt, doe I?

Scar.
Wee shall haue company, no doubt:
My fellowe Much hath founde one out.

Fri.
A fox, a fox: as I am Frier,
Much is well worthie of good hire.

Ioh.
Say Frier soothly knowest thou him?

Fri.
It is a wolfe in a sheepes skinne.
Goe call our master, little Iohn,
A glad man will he be anone:
It's Ely man, the Chancelor.

Ioh.
Gods pittie looke vnto him, Frier.
Exit Iohn.

Much.
What, ha ye egges to sell old fellowe?

Ely.

I sir, some fewe, and those my neede constraines
mee beare to Mansfield,

That I may sell them there, to buy me bread.

Scar.
Alas good man: I pre the where dost dwell?

Ely.
I dwell at Oxen sir.

Scar.
I knowe the towne.

Much.
Alas poore fellow, if thou dwell with Oxen,
Its strange they doe not gore thee with their hornes.

Ely.
Masters, I tell yee truly where I dwell,
And whether I am going; let mee goe:
Your master would be much displeas'd I knowe,
If he should heare, you hinder poore men thus.

Fri.
Father, one word with you before we part.

Much.
Scarlet, the Frier will make vs haue anger all:
Farewell, and beare me witnesse, though I staid him,
I staid him not:
An olde fellowe, and a market man?

Exit.
Fri.
Whoop! In your riddles Much? then we shall ha't,

Scar.
What dost thou Frier? pre thee let him goe.

Fri.
I pre the Scarlet let vs two alone.

Ely.
Frier, I see thou knowest me, let me goe:
And many a good turne I to thee will owe.

Fri.
My masters seruice bids me answere no:
Yet loue of holy churchmen wils it so.
Well, good my Lord, I will doe what I may
To let your holinesse escape away:
Enter Robin.
Here comes my master, if he question you,
Answere him like a plaine man, and you may passe.

Ely.
Thankes Frier.

Fri.
O, my Lord thinkes mee an Asse.

Rob.
Frier, what honest man is there with thee?

Fri.
A silly man, good master. I will speake for you:
Stand you aloofe, for feare they note your face.

Master in plaine, it were but in vaine, long to detaine,
with toyes a with bables, with fond fained fables: but
him that you see, in so mean degree, is the Lord Ely, that
helpt to exile you, that oft did reuile you. Though in his
fall, his traine be but small, and no man at all, will giue
him the wall, nor Lord doth him call: Yet he did ride,
on Iennets pide, and knightes by his side, did foote it
each tide: O see the fall of pride.

Rob.
Frier, enough.

Fri.
I pray sir let him goe,
He is a very simple man in showe,
He dwelles at Oxen, and to vs doth say,
To Mansfield market he doth take his way.

Ioh.
Frier, this is not Mansfields market day.

Rob.
What would hee sell?

Fri.
Egges sir, as he saies.

Rob.
Scarlet, goe thy waies, take in this olde man,
Fill his skinne with venson:
And after giue him money for his egges.

Ely.
No sir I thanke yon, I haue promised them
To master Bailies wife of Mansfield, all.

Rob.
Nay sir you doe me wrong:
No Baily, nor his wife shall haue an egge.
Scarlet, I say, take his egges, and giue him money.

Ely.
Pray sir.

Fri.
Tush, let him haue your egges.

Ely.
Faith I haue none.

Fri.
Gods pittie, then he will finde you soone.

Scar.
Here are no egges, nor any thing but hay.
Yes by the masse, here's somewhat like a seale.

Rob.
O God, my Princes seale, faire Englands royall seale!
Tell mee, thou man of death, thou wicked man,
How cam'st thou by this seale? wilt thou not speake?
Bring burning irons, I will make him speake.
For I doe knowe the poore distressed Lord,
The kings Uicegerent, learned reuerend Ely,
Flying the furie of ambitious Iohn,
Is murdred by this peasant. Speake vile man,
Where thou hast done thrice Honorable Ely?

Ely.
Why dost thou grace Ely with stiles of Grace,
Who thee with all his power sought to disgrace?

Rob.
Belike his wisdome sawe some fault in mee.

Ely.
No I assure thee Honorable earle:
It was his enuie, no defect of thine,
And the perswasions of the Prior of Yorke,
Which Ely now repents; see Huntington,
Ely himselfe, and pittie him, good sonne.

Rob.
Alas for woe, alack that so greate state
The malice of this world should ruinate.
Come in great Lord, sit downe and take thy ease,
Receiue the seale and pardon my offence,
With me you shall be safe and if you please,
Till Richard come, from all mens violence:
Aged Fitzwater, banished by Iohn,
And his faire daughter shall con uerse with you:
I and my men that me attend vpon,
Shall giue you all that is to Honour due.
Will you accept my seruice, noble Lord?

Ely.
Thy kindnesse driues me to such inward shame,
That for my life, I no reply can frame.
Goe, I will followe, blessed maist thou bee,
That thus releeu'st thy foes in miserie.

Exeunt.
Ioh.
Skelton, a worde or two beside the play.

Fri.
Now sir Iohn Eltam, what ist you would say?

Ihon.
Me thinks I see no ieasts of Robin Hoode,
No merry Morices of Frier Tuck,
No pleasant skippings vp and downe the wodde,
No hunting songs, no coursing of the Bucke:
Pray God this Play of ours may haue good lucke,
And the kings Maiestie mislike it not.

Fri.
And if he doe, what can we doe to that?
I promist him a Play of Robin Hoode,
His honorable life, in merry Sherewod;
His Maiestie himselfe suruaid the plat,
And bad me boldly write it, it was good.
For merry ieasts, they haue bene showne before,
As how the Frier fell into the Well,
For loue of Iinny that faire bonny bell:
How Greeneleafe robd the Shrieue of Notingham,
And other mirthfull matter, full of game.
Our play expresses noble Roberts wrong,
His milde forgetting trecherous iniurie:
The Abbots malice, rak't in cinders long,
Breakes out at last with Robins Tragedie.
If these that heare the historie rehearst,
Condemne my Play when it begins to spring,
Ile let it wither while it is a budde,
And neuer shewe the flower to the King.

Iohn.
One thing beside; you fall into your vaine,
Of ribble rabble rimes, Skeltonicall,
So oft, and stand so long, that yon offend.

Fri.
It is a fault I hardly can amend
O how I champe my tongue to talke these tearmes,
I doe forget oft times my Friers part:
But pull mee by the sleeue when I exceede,
And you shall see mee mend that fault indeede.
Wherefore still sit you, doth Skelton intreat you,
While he facetè wil breefely repeate you, the history al,
And tale tragical, by whose treachery, and base iniury,
Robin the good, calde Robin Hood, died in Sherewodde:

Which till you see, be rul'd by me, sit patiently, & giue
a plaudite, if any thing please yee.

Exeunt.
Enter Warman.
War.
Banisht from all, of all am I bereft,
No more than what I weare, vnto me left,
O wretched, wretched griefe, desertfull fall:
Striuing to get all, I am reft of all:
Yet if I could a while my selfe relieue,
Till Ely be in some place settled,
A double restitution should I get,
And these sharpe sorrowes that haue ioy supprest,
Should turne to ioy with double interest.
Enter a gentleman, Warmans cosin.
And in good time, here comes my cosin Warman,
Whome I haue often pleasur'd in my time:
His house at Bingham I bestow'd on him:
And therefore doubt not, he will giue me house-roome.
Good euen good cosin.

Cos.
O cousen Warman, what good newes with you?

War.
Whether so farre a foot walk you in Sherewod?

Cos.
I came from Rotheram, and by hither Farnsfield
My horse did tire, and I walkt home a foote.

War.
I doe beseech you cousen at some friends,
Or at your owne house for a weeke or two,
Giue me some succour.

Cos.
Ha? succour say you?
No sir: I heard at Mansfield how the matter stands,
How you haue iustly lost your goods and lands,
And that the Princes indignation
Will fall on any that relieues your state.
Away from mee, your trecheries I hate.
You when your noble master was vndoone
(That honourable minded Huntington)
Who forwarder than you, all to distraine?
And as a wolfe that chaseth on the plaine,
The harmelesse hinde: so wolfe-like you pursued
Him and his seruants: vile ingratitude,
Damnd Iudaisme, false wrong, abhorred trechery,
Impious wickednesse, wicked impietie.
Out, out vpon thee, foh, I spit at thee.

War.
Good cosen.

Cos.
Away, Ile spurne thee if thou followe me.

Exit.
War.
O iust heauen, how thou plagu'st iniquitie!
All that he has, my hand on him bestowed:
My master gaue mee all I euer owed:
My maister I abus'd in his distresse:
In mine, my kinsman leaues me comfortlesse.
Enter Iayler of Notingham, leading a dog.
Here comes another, one that yesterday
Was at my seruice, came when I did call,
And him I made Iayler of Notingham,
Perchance some pittie dwelles within the man.
Iaylor, well met, dost thou not know me man?

Iay.
Yes, thou art Warman, euery knaue knowes thee.

War.
Thou knowest I was thy master yesterday.

Iay.
I, but tis not as it was, farewell, goe by.

War.
Good George relieue my bitter misery.

Iay.
By this fleshe and bloode I will not.
No if I do, the diuell take me quicke.
I haue no money: begger balk the way.

War.
I doe not aske thee money.

Iay.
Wouldst ha meate?

War.
Would God I had a little breade to eate.

Iay.
Soft, let me feele my bagge. O heare is meate,
That I put vp at Redford for my dogge,
I care not greatly if I giue him this.

War.
I pre thee doe?
Yet let me search my conscience for it first:
My dogge's my seruant, faithfull, trustie, true:
But Warman was a traitor to his Lord,
A reprobate, a rascall, and a Iewe,
Worser than dogges, of men to be abhorrd.
Starue thererefore Warman, dogge receiue thy due;
Followe me not, least I belabour you,
You halfe-fac't groat, you thick-cheekt chittiface,
You Iudas, villane, you that haue vndoone
The honourable, Robert, earle of Huntington.

Exit.
War.
Worse than a dogge, the villane me respects,
His dogge hee feedes, mee in my neede reiects.
What shall I doe? yonder I see a shed,
A little cottage, where a woman dwelles,
Whose husband I from death deliuered:
If she denie mee, then I faint and die.
Ho goodwife Tomson?

Wo.
What a noyse is there?
A foule shame on yee: is it you that knockt?

War.
What, doe you knowe mee then?

Wo.
Whoop, who knowes not you?
The beggerd banisht shrieue of Notingham,
You that betraid your master, ist not you?
Yes, a shame on you: and forsooth ye come,
To haue some succour here, because you sau'd,
My vnthrift husband from the gallowe tree.
A pox vpon yee both: would both for me,
Were hangd together; but soft, let mee see:
The man lookes faint: feelst thou indeede distresse?

War.
O doe not mocke me in my heauinesse.

Wo.
Indeede I doe not: well I haue within,
A caudle made, I will goe fetch it him.

War.
O blessed woman, comfortable word:
Be quiet intrals, you shall be releeu'd:

Wo.
Here Warman, put this hēpen caudle ore thy head:
See downeward, yonder is thy masters walke,
And like a Iudas, on some rotten tree,
Hang vp this rotten trunke of miserie:
That goers by, thy wretched end may see.
Stirr'st thou not villane? get thee from my doore:
A plague vpon thee, haste and hang thy selfe,
Runne rogue away: tis thou that hast vndone
Thy noble master, earle of Huntington.

War.
Good counsell, and good comfort by my faith.
Three Doctors are of one opinion,
That Warman must make speede to hang himselfe:
The last hath giuen a caudle comfortable,
That to recure my griefes is strong and able:
Ile take her medcine, and Ile chuse this way,
Wherein she saith my master hath his walke:
There will I offer life for trechery,
And hang, a wonder to all goers by.
But soft what sound hermonious is this?
What birds are these, that sing so cheerefully,
As if they did salute the flowring spring?
Fitter it were, with tunes more dolefully
They shriekt out sorrowe; than thus cheerely sing,
I will goe seeke sad desperations cell:
This is not it, for here are greene-leau'd trees.
Ah for one winter-bitten bared bough,
Whereon, a wretched life, a wretch would leese.
O here is one: thrice blessed be this tree,
If a man cursed, may a blessing giue
Enter old Fitzwater.
But out alas, yonder comes one to me,
To hinder death, when I detest to liue.

Fitz.
What woefull voice heare I within this wod?
What wretch is there complaines of wretchednesse?

War.
A man, old man, bereau'd of all earths good,
And desperately seekes death in this distresse.

Fitz.
Seeke not for that which will be here too soone,
At least if thou be guiltie of ill deedes.
Where art thou sonne? come and neerer sit,
Heare wholsome counsell, gainst vnhallowed thoughts.

War.
The man is blinde. Mufflle the eye of day,
Ye gloomie clouds (and darker than my deedes,
That darker be than pitchie sable night)
Muster together on these high topt trees,
That not a sparke of light thorough their sprayes,
May hinder what I meane to execute.

Fitz.
What dost thou mutter? heare mee wofull man.

Enter Marian, with meate.
Mari.
God morrowe father.

Fitz.
Welcome louely maide,
And in good time, I trust you hither come:
Looke if you see not a distressefull man,
That to himselfe intendeth violence:
One such euen now was here and is not farre:
Seeke I beseech you, saue him if you may.

Mar.
Alas here is, here is a man enrag'd,
Fastning a halter on a withered bough,
And stares vpon mee, with such frighted lookes,
As I am fearefull of his sharpe aspect.

Fitz.
What meanst thou wretch? say, what ist thou wilt doe.

War.
As Iudas did, so I intend to doe.
For I haue done alreadie as he did:
His master he betraid: so I haue mine.
Faire mistresse looke not on me with your blessed eyne.
From them as from some excellence diuine,
Sparkles sharpe iudgement, and commaunds wt speede
Faire, fare you well: foule fortune is my fate:
As all betraiers, I die desperate.

Fitz.
Soft sir, goe Marian call in Robin Hoode:
Tis Warman woman, that was once his steward.

Mar.
Alas, although it be, yet saue his life:
I will sende helpe vnto you presently.

Exit.
Fitz.
Nay Warman stay, thou shalt haue thy will.

War.
Art thou a blinde man, and canst see my shame?
To hinder treachers, God restoreth sight,
And giueth infants tongues to cry alowde,
A wofull woe against the trecherous.

Enter Much running.
Much.

Hold, hold, hold. I heare say, my fellowe Warman
is about to hang himselfe, and I make some speede
to saue him a labour. O good master Iustice Shriue,
haue you execution in hand, and is there such a murren
among theeues and hangmen, that you play two parts
in one? For old inquaintance, I wil play one part: The
knot vnder the eare, the knitting to the tree: Good master
Warman, leaue that worke for mee.

War.

Dispatch me Much, & I will pray for thee.

Much.

Nay keepe your praiers, no bodie sees vs.

He takes the rope, and offers to clime.
Fitz.

Downe sirra, downe: whether a knaues name
clime you?

Much.

A plague on ye for a blinde sinksanker: would
I were your match: you are much blinde yfaith, can hit
so right.

Enter little Iohn.
Iohn.
What master Warman, are yee come to yield
A true account for your false stewardshippe?

Enter Sarlet and Scathlocke.
Scath.
Much, if thou meanst to get a hundred pound,
Present vs to the shrieue of Notingham.

Much.
Masse, I thinke there was such a purclamation.
Come my small fellowe Iohn,
You shall haue halfe, and therefore bring in one.

Iohn.
No, my big fellow, honest master Much.
Take all vnto your selfe, ile be no halfe.

Much.
Then stand, you shall be the two theeues, and
I will be the presenter.
O master Shrieue of Notingham,
When eares vnto my tydings came

(Ile speake in prose, I misse this verse vilely) that
Scathlock and Scarlet were arrested by Robin Hood my
master, and little Iohn my fellowe, and I Much his seruant,
and taken from you master Shrieue, being well
forward in the hanging way, wherein yee now are (and
God keepe yee in the same) & also y
t you master Shrieue would giue any man in towne, citie, or contrey, a hundred
pound of lawfull arrant money of Englande, that
would bring y
e same two theeues, being these two: now I, the said Much, chalenge of you the saide Shrieue,
bringing them, the same money.

Scar.

Faith, he can not pay thee, Much.

Much.

I, but while this end is in my hand, and that about
his necke, he is bound to it.

Enter Robin, Ely, Marian.
War.
Mock on, mock on: make me your ieasting game,
I doe deserue much more than this small shame.

Rob.
Disconsolate and poore deiected man,
Cast from thy necke that shamefull signe of death,
And liue for mee, if thou amende thy life,
As much in fauour as thou euer didst.

War.
O worse than any death,
When a man, wrongd, his wronger pittieth.

Ely.
Warman, be comforted, rise and amend.
On my word Robin Hoode will be thy friend.

Rob.
I will indeede: go in, heart-broken man,
Father Fitzwater, pray you leade him in:
Kinde Marian, with sweete comforts comfort him,
And my tall yeomen, as you mee affect,
Upbraide him not with his forepassed life.
Warman, goe in, goe in and comfort thee.

War.
O God requite your Honours curtesie.

Mar.
Scathlocke or Scarlet, helpe vs some of yee.

Exeunt Warman, Marian, Fitzwater, Scathlock, Scarlet, Much. Enter Frier Tucke in his trusse, without his weede.
Fri.

Iesu benedicite, pittie on pittie, mercie on mercy,
misery on misery; O such a sight, as by this light, doth
mee affright.

Rob.
Tell vs the matter, pre thee holy Frier.

Fri.
Sir Doncaster the Priest, and the proud Prior
Are stript and wounded in the way to Bawtrey,
And if there goe not spedie remedie,
Theyl die, theyl die in this extreamitie.

Rob.
Alas, direct vs to that wretched place:
I loue mine vncle, though he hateth mee.

Fri.
My weede I cast to keepe them from the colde,
And Iinny gentle girle tore all her smocke,
The blodie issue of their wounds to stoppe.

Rob.
Will you goe with vs, my good Lord of Ely?

Ely.
I will, and euer praise thy perfect charitie.

Enter Prince Iohn, solus, in greene, bowe and arrowes.
Iohn.
Why this is somewhat like, now may I sing,
As did the Wakefield Pinder in his note;
At Michaelmas commeth my couenant out,
My master giues me my fee:
Then Robin Ile weare thy Kendall greene,
And wend to the greenewodde with thee.
But for a name now, Iohn it must not bee,
Alreadie little Iohn on him attends.
Greeneleafe? Nay surely there's such a one alreadie:
Well, Ile be Wodnet, hap what happen may.
Enter Scathlocke.
Here comes a greene cote (good lucke be my guide)
Some sodaine shift might helpe me to prouide.

Scath.
What fellow William, did you meete our master?

Iohn.
I did not meete him yet my honest friend.

Scath.
My honest friend? why, what a terme is here?
My name is Scathlocke, man, and if thou be
No other than thy garments shewe to mee,
Thou art my fellowe, though I knowe thee not.
What is thy name? when wert thou entertaind?

Ioh.
My name is Woodnet, and this very day,
My noble master, earle of Huntington,
Did giue mee both my fee and liuerie.

Scath.
Your noble master, earle of Huntington?
Ile lay a crowne you are a counterfait,
And that you knowe, lacks money of a Noble.
Did you receiue your liuery and fee,
And neuer heard our orders read vnto you?
What was the oath was giuen you by the Frier?

Ioh.
Who? Frier Tuck?

Enter Frier Tucke.
Scath.
I doe not play the lyer:
For he comes here himselfe to shriue.

Iohn.
Scathlock farewell, I will away.

Scath.
See you this arrowe? it saies nay.
Through both your sides shall fly this feather,
If presently you come not hither.

Fri.
Now heauens true liberalitie
Fall euer for his charitie,
Upon the heade of Robin Hoode,
That to his very foes doth good.
Lord God, how he laments the Prior,
And bathes his wounds against the fier!
Faire Marian, God requite it her,
Doth euen as much for Doncaster,
Whome newly she hath laine in bed,
To rest his weary wounded head.

Scath.
Ho Frier Tuck, knowe you this mate?

Fri.
Whats hee?

Scath.
He saith my master late,
Gaue him his fee and liuery.

Fri.
It is a leasing, credit mee.
How chance sir then you were not sworne?

Iohn.
What meane this groome and lozell Frier,
So strictly matters to inquire?
Had I a sword and buckler here,
You should aby these questions deare.

Fri.
Saist thou me so lad? lend him thine,
For in this bush here lyeth mine:
Now will I try this newcome guest.

Scath.
I am his first man, Frier Tuck,
And if I faile and haue no lucke,
Then thou with him shalt haue a plucke.

Fri.
Be it so Scathlocke: holde thee lad,
No better weapons can be had:
The dewe doth them a little rust:
But heare yee, they are tooles of trust.

Iohn.
Gramercy Frier for this gift,
And if thou come vnto my shrift,
Ile make thee call those fellowes fooles
That on their foes bestowe such tooles.

Scath.
Come let vs too't.

Fight, and the Frier lookes on.
Fri.
The youth is deliuer and light,
He presseth Scathlocke with his might:
Now by my beades to doe him right,
I thinke he be some tryed knight.

Scath.
Stay, let vs breath.

Ioh.
I will not stay:
If you leaue, Frier, come away.

Scath.
I pre the Frier holde him play.

Fri.
Frier Tuck will doe the best he may.

Fight. Enter Marian.
Mar.
Why, what a noyse of swordes is here?
Fellowes, and fight our bower so neere?

Scath.
Mistresse, he is no man of yours,
That fightes so fast with Frier Tucke:
But on my worde he is a man,
As good for strength as any can.

Mar.
Indeede hee's more than common men can be,
In his high heart there dwels the bloode of kings.
Goe call my Robin, Scathlock: tis Prince Iohn.

Scath.
Mistresse I will, I pray part the fray.

Exit.
Mar.
I pre thee goe, I will doe what I may.
Frier I charge thee holde thy hand.

Fri.
Nay yonker, to your tackling stand.
What all amort, wil you not fight?

Ioh.
I yield, vnconquered by thy might:
But by Matildas glorious sight.

Fri.
Mistresse, he knowes you: what is hee?

Ioh.
Like to amazing wonder she appeares,
And from her eye, flies loue vnto my heart,
Attended by suspicious thoughts and feares,
That numme the vigor of each outward part:
Only my sight hath all sacietie,
And fulnesse of delight, viewing her deitie.

Mar.
But I haue no delight in you Prince Iohn.

Fri.
Is this Prince Iohn?
Giue me thy hand, thou art a proper man,
And for this mornings worke, by Saints aboue,
Be euer sure of Frier Tucks true loue.

Ioh.
Be not offended that I touch thy shrine
Make this hand happie, let it folde in thine.

Enter Robin Hoode, Fitzwater, Ely, Warman.
Rob.
What sawcie wodman Marian stands so neere?

Ioh.
A wodman Robin, that would strike your deere,
With all his heart. Nay neuer looke so strange,
You see this fickle world, is full of change:
Iohn is a ranger, man, compeld to range.

Fitz.
You are young, wilde Lord, & wel may trauel bear.

Ioh.
What, my olde friende Fitzwater, are you there?
And you Lord Ely? and old best betrust?
Then I perceiue that to this geere we must.
A messe of my good friends, which of you foure
Will purchase thanks by yielding to the king,
The bodie of the rash rebellious Iohn?
Will you Fitzwater?

Fitz.
No Iohn, I defie,
To stain my old hands in thy youthfull bloode.

Ioh.
You will Lord Ely, I am sure you will.

Ely.
Be sure young man, my age means thee no ill.

Iohn.
O you will haue the praise, braue Robin Hood:
The lustie outlawe, Lord of this large wodde,
Hee'l lead a kings sonne, prisoner to a king,
And bid the brother smite the brother deade.

Rob.
My purpose you haue much misconstrued:
Prince Iohn, I would not for the wide worlds wealth
Incense his Maiestie: but doe my best,
To mitigate his wrath, if he be mou'd.

Ioh.
Will none of you? then here's one I dare say,
That from his childehoode, knowes how to betray:
Warman, will not you helpe to hinder all you may.

War.
With what I haue beene, twit me not my Lord.
My olde sins at my soule I doe detest.

Ioh.
Then that he came this way, prince Iohn was blest.
Forgiue me Ely, pardon mee Fitzwater:
And Robin, to thy hands my selfe I yield.

Rob.
And as my heart, from hurt I will thee shield.

Enter Much, running.
Mu.
Master fly, hide ye mistresse, we al shall be taken.

Rob.
Why, whats the matter?

Much.
The king, the king, & twelue and twenty score of horses.

Rob.
Peace foole. we haue no cause from him to fly.

Enter Scarlet, little Iohn.
Ioh.
Scarlet and I were hunting on the plaine.
To vs came royall Richard from his traine
(For a great traine of his is hard at hand)
And questiond vs, if we seru'd Robin Hoode:
I saide wee did: and then his Maiestie,
Putting this massie chaine about my necke,
Said what I shame to say, but ioyde to heare:
Let Sarlet tell it, it befits not mee.

Scar.
Quoth our good king, thy name is little Iohn,
And thou hast long time seru'd earle Huntington:
Because thou leftst him not in miserie,
A hundred markes I giue thee yearelie fee,
And from henceforth, thou shalt a squier bee.

Much.
O Lord what luck had I to runne away?
I should haue bene made a knight, or a lady sure.

Scar.
Goe, said the king, and to your master say,
Richard is come to call him to the court.
And with his kingly presence chase the clouds
Of griefe and sorrow, that in mistie shades,
Haue vaild the honour of earle Huntington.

Rob.
Now God preserue him, hye you backe againe,
And guide him, least in by-paths he mistake.
Much, fetch a richer garment for my father:
Good Frier Tuck, I pre thee rouse thy wits.
Warman, visit myne vncle and sir Doncaster,
See if they can come forth to grace our showe.
Gods pittie Marian, let your Iinny waite.
Thankes my Lord Chancellor: you are well prepar'd,
And good Prince Iohn, since you are all in greene,
Disdaine not to attend on Robin Hoode:
Frolick I pray, I trust to doe yee good.
Welcome good vncle, welcome sir Doncaster.
Say, will yee sit, I feare yee cannot stand.

Pri.
Yes, very well.

Rob.
Why, cheerely cheerely then.
The trumpet, sounds, the king is now at hand:
Lords, yeomen, maids, in decent order stand.

The trumpets sound, the while Robin places them. Enter first, bare-heade, little Iohn and Scarlet; likewise Chester, and Lester, bearing the sword and scepter; the King follow crowned, clad in green: after him Queene mother, after her Salsbury and Richmond. Scarlet and Scathlocke turne to Robin Hoode; who with all his cōpany kneele downe and cry.
All.
God saue King Richard, Lord preserue your Grace.

King.
Thanks all, but chiefely, Huntington, to thee.
Arise poore earle, stand vp, my late lost sonne,
And on thy shoulders let me rest my armes,
That haue bene toyled long with heathen warres:
True piller of my state, right Lord indeede,
Whose honour shineth in the denne of neede,
I am euen full of ioy, and full of woe;
To see thee, glad: but sad to see thee so.

Rob.
O that I could powre out my soule in prayers,
And praises for this kingly curtesie.
Doe not, dread Lord, grieue at my lowe estate:
Neuer so rich, neuer so fortunate,
Was Huntington as now himselfe he findes.
And to approue it, may it please your Grace,
But to accept such presents at the hand
Of your poore seruant, as he hath prepar'd,
You shall perceiue, the Emperour of the East,
Whom you contended with at Babilon,
Had not such presents to present you with.

King.
Art thou so rich? sweet let me see thy gifts.

Rob.
First take againe this Iewell you had lost,
Aged Fitzwater, banished by Iohn.

King.
A iemme indeede: no Prince hath such a one.
Good, good old man, as welcome vnto mee,
As coole fresh ayre, in heats extreamitie.

Fitz.
And I as glad to kisse my Soueraignes hand,
As the wrackt swimmer, when he feeles the land.

Qu.
Welcome Fitzwater, I am glad to see you.

Fitz.
I thanke your Grace: but let me hug these twain,
Lester and Richmond, Christes sworne champions,
That follow'd Richard in his holy warre.

Richm.
Noble Fitzwater, thanks, & welcome both.

Lest.
O God how glad I am to see this Lord!
I cannot speake: but welcome at a worde.

Rob.
Next take good Ely in your royall hands,
Who fled from death, and most vnciuill bands.

Kin.
Robin, thy gifts exceede: Moorton my Chancellour!
In this man giust thou holinesse and honour.

Ely.
Indeede he giues me, and he gaue me life,
Preseruing me from fierce pursuing foes,
When I too blame, had wrought him many woes:
With me he likewise did preserue this seale,
Which I surrender to your maiestie.

Kin.
Keepe it good Ely, keepe it still for me.

Rob.
The next faire Iewell that I will presente
Is richer than both these, yet in the foyle,
My gratious Lord, it hath a foule default:
Which if you pardon, boldly I protest,
It will in value farre exceede the rest.

Ioh.
Thats me he meanes, yfaith my turne is next.
He calles me foile, ifaith I feare a foile.
Well, tis a mad Lord, this same Huntington.

Rob.
Here is Prince Iohn your brother, whose reuolt,
And folly in your absence, let me craue,
With his submission may be buried.
For he is now no more the man he was,
But duetifull in all respects to you.

Kin.
Pray God it prooue so. Wel good Huntington,
For thy sake pardon'd is our brother Iohn,
And welcome to vs in all heartie loue.

Rob.
This last I giue, as tenants do their lands,
With a surrender, to receiue againe,
The same into their owne possession:
No Marian, but Fitzwaters chast Matilda:
The precious Iewell that poore Huntington,
Doth in this world, hold as his best esteeme.
Although with one hand I surrender her,
I holde the other, as one looking still,
Richard returnes her: so I hope he will.

Kin.
Els God forbid: receiue thy Marian backe,
And neuer may your loue be separate,
But florish fairely to the vtmost date.

Rob.
Now please my king to enter Robins bower,
And take such homely welcome as he findes,
It shall be reckened as my happinesse.

Kin.
With all my heart: then as combined friends,
Goe we togither, here all quarrelles ends.

Exeunt.
Manet Sir Iohn Eltam and Skelton.
S. Ioh.
Then Skelton here I see you will conclude.

Skel.
And reason good: haue we not held too long?

S. Ioh.
No in good sadnesse, I dare gage my life,
His Highnesse will accept it very kindly.
But I assure you, he expects withall,
To see the other matters tragicall,
That followe in the processe of the storie,
Wherein are many a sad accident,
Able to make the strictest minde relent:
I neede not name the points, you knowe them all.
From Marians eye shall not one teare be shed?
Skelton, yfaith tis not the fashion.
The King must greeue, the Queene must take it ill:
Ely must mourne, aged Fitzwater weepe,
Prince Iohn, the Lords: his yeomen must lament,
And wring their wofull hands, for Robins woe.
Then must the sicke man fainting by degrees,
Speake hollowe words, and yield his Marian,
Chast maid Matilda, to her fathers hands:
And giue her, with king Richards full consent,
His lands, his goods, late seazd on by the Prior,
Now by the Priors treason made the kings.
Skelton, there are a many other things,
That aske long time to tell them lineally:
But ten times longer will the action be.

Skel.
Sir Iohn, yfaith I knowe not what to doe:
And I confesse that all you say is true.
Will you doe one thing for me, craue the king
To see two parts: say tis a prettie thing:
I know you can doe much, if you excuse mee,
While Skelton liues, Sir Iohn be bolde to vse mee.

S. Ioh.
I will perswade the king: but how can you
Perswade all these beholders to content?

Skel.
Stay sir Iohn Eltam; what to them I say,
Deliuer to the king, from mee, I pray.
Well iudging hearers, for a while suspence
Your censures of this Plaies vnfinisht end:
And Skelton promises for this offence,
The second part shall presently be pend:
There shall you see, as late my friend did note,
King Richards reuels at earle Roberts bower,
The purpos'd mirth, and the performed mone,
The death of Robin, and his murderers.
For interest of your stay, this will I adde,
King Richards voyage backe to Austria:
The swift returned tydings of his death,
The manner of his royall funerall.
Then Iohn shall be a lawfull crowned king,
But to Matilda beare vnlawfull loue.
Aged Fitzwaters finall banishment:
His pitious end, of power teares to moue
From marble pillers. The Catastrophe
Shall shewe you faire Matildas Tragedie,
Who (shunning Iohns pursute, became a Nunne,
At Dumwod Abbey, where she constantly
Chose death to saue her spotlesse chastitie.
Take but my word, and if I faile in this,
Then let my paines be baffled with a hisse.