University of Virginia Library

Enter Lorel to Maudlin.
Maud.
Where are you gaang now?

Lor.
Unto my tree,
To see my maistress.

Maud.
Gang thy gait, and try
Thy turns with better luck, or hang thy sel'.
[Exit Maudlin.

[Here ends Jonson's Fragment.]
Lor.
Tak ye na' tent, gud mother; I's do well
By fair or foul means, Lorel cares na' whilk:
But I's begin as mild as new-drawn milk.
Now come ye forth once mair, coy lass, and see
Gin ye will like or scorn my gifts and me.
Gi' me yer hand, as white and soft as wool
Of lambs, or down fra 'neath swans' wings we pull:
Sae soft a hand suld ha' as soft a heart;
But yers is hard as rock—we munna' part.
Look, I ha' brought ye wildings fra' the wood,
And callow nestlings ta'en while the dam sought food.

Ear.
Ah, cruel Carle! haste with them back again;
Sure thou delight'st in giving all things pain.

Lor.
Nay, maistress mine! for tho' I pipe fu' well,
Fit for thine ear I canno' sing mysel;
But ye sall hear these sing, gif ye think meet,
Yer praise, deft lass, in chirps and carrols sweet.
And here's a gaudy girlond for yer locks,
Of zallow sun-flow'rs, and streak'd hollyhocks.
Nay, pu' na' sae, ye sall na' that gait gang;
Come to yon tedded grass wi' me alang:
Or, wi' this osier gyved tul a tree
I's use ye rough; then wise and kinder be.

Ear.
Who can be kind to such a frightful thing?
No longer in my ears your vile suit ding.
Your form, your face, your manners are uncouth;
You need not stare, I tell you but the truth.
Unlike the peerless swain, young Æglamour;
He is my love, my gentle paramour!
No other e'er can please Earine;
But least of all mankind, foul Lorel, thee!

Lor.
Say ye sae, maistress? then, sin' fair words fail,
I's try gif foul deeds better will prevail.
But wha comes here? sore blisters o' their feet!
In to the tree agen!—whan next we meet
I's gar ye pay for this—in, scornfu' wretch!

Ear.
In to my grave with joy to 'scape thy clutch.

[Lorel shuts her up in the tree again, and goes out.
Clarion enters.
Clar.
Where hath this love-craz'd shepherd stray'd, I trow?
Alas, poor Æglamour! thou 'rt so distraught,
I fear thou 'lt plunge into the silver Trent,
Hoping to pluck up drown'd Earine;
But, 'stead thereof, lose in't thy wretched self!
Thrice happy they who know not what is love;
For where one shepherd and his true mate find,
Like Robin Hood and gentle Marian,
Felicity in love, how many pine
Like heart-struck Amie, and sad Æglamour,
And lovelorn misery for aye endure.

[Earine sings in the tree.
SONG.
“Daughter of Jove! Diana chaste!
“Unto a virgin's rescue haste;
“And if I never must regain
“My loving and beloved swain,
“Bright Goddess of the woods and groves,
“Pity a maid who purely loves;
“And let me, Dian, follow in thy train!”

Clar.
Whence are those thrilling sweet, and love-sick sounds?
Sure 'tis some near-hand shepherdess' soft strain;
Yet none can I espy—but hither bends
Sad Æglamour—

[Æglamour enters hastily.
Æg.
Earine! where art thou?
From hence the voice came, but she is not here;
Or, if she is, invisible to me,
Enthrall'd in dim-eyed flesh—Earine!
I heard thy angel notes above, around;
Pleas'd echo still reverberates the sound:
Thou 'rt a bright seraph, hymning thy new birth;
I a poor worm, still crawling sad on earth.
O gentle spright! late rapt to heav'n so high,
Still dost thou deign, pure essence! to come nigh
Earth's grossness thus? and, for thou see'st us dull,
And clogg'd with clay, our souls thou fain would'st pull
Forth their frail thralls, by some celestial sleight,
And waft them hence to thy own starry height.
O, that thou could'st! and that my soul were free
To soar, and join the heav'nly choir with thee!
It shall be so.—I'll follow thee, bright maid!
And be in robes of light like thee array'd!

[Æglamour goes out.
Clar.
Alas, fond Shepherd! more and more distract!
[Earine puts her hand through a breach in the tree.
But soft! is it a lily that I see,
Or something whiter, waving by yon tree?
My eyes delude me, or 'tis a fair hand!
(Entranc'd with wonder motionless I stand.)
With vermeil-tinted finger-tips, it shews
Like damask buds, clustring a pallid rose;
Some gentle hamadryad dwells within;
No mortal hand had e'er so white a skin:
If to the touch thou'rt palpable, I'll kiss
And court thee in an ectasy of bliss!
[As Clarion runs towards the tree a sudden darkness prevents him.
'Tis lost in darkness! sure 'tis witchcraft all!
Foul Maudlin holds, I fear, some nymph in thrall;
Perchance Earine, we all thought drown'd:
O, that she yet may live! and, safely found,
Sad Æglamour's pure passion yet be crown'd!
I'll seek him first, wise Alken next.—The guest
So miss'd and mourn'd may still make glad our feast!

[Clarion follows Æglamour.
Douce enters.
Dou.
'Tis a gay garment this, and fits me well;
When first I wore it, I scarce knew mysel.
But now I am us'd to 't, troth, I think no more
Than what I suld ha' had lang time before.
The shepherds doff their bonnets as I pass,
And say, bright Be'voir's maids I a' surpass.
In a' the forest there is nane sae sheen
As dainty Douce; a very greenwood queen!
Compar'd wi' me how like a swine's my brother,
A' bristled o'er!—but, hush! here comes my mother.

[Maudlin and Lorel enter.
Maud.
Still, lubber Lorel, wo't thou waste thy time
To prate and parley wi' a wench in prime?
Was't not enow I stock'd her i' the tree,
Mun I aye tend a heartless lown like thee?
But for the fog I now sae sudden sprad,
Yer maistress had bin found by yon trim lad.
Albe ye had her safely in yer grip,
Ye mak ado as ye were fear'd to clip;
'Twere right e'en o'er yer lugs yer skin to strip!
Next time ye ha' her i' yer hands, be sure
Ye waste na' time in wards, but do unto her
As I ha' tell'd ye.

Lor.
Stand ye in yon space,
I's do it now, 'fore yer and Douce's face.

Dou.
Troth, I na' like't—gud mother, let me gang;
Nor 'bide to see him do the maiden wrang.

Maud.
Ye need na' budge, daft Douce! it can't be now;
My turn mun needs be serv'd ere theirs, I trow.
There's other wark in hand—be sure ye keep
Her safe lock'd up (without a chink to peep
Till ye come back) within the oaken tree—
Ye, and yer sister now mun gang wi' me,
To gather balefu' simples for strong charms,
To wark my safety, and my foemen harms.

Dou.
Mun I dew-dabble, mother, in these claithes?
Let me gang hame, and wrap in fitter swaithes;
Nor, like a may-queen prank'd, a simpling go,
Lest like a miry muckster I suld shew.

Maud.
How now! what wards be these? haste! ye were best,
Wi' a' yer might, to do yer mother's hest.
Sall I by sic a dowdy' as ye be crost,
Whan I the dearest thing I had ha' lost?

Lor.
I's gar her gang bilive, ye need na' fear—
But what is't, mother, ye ha' lost sae dear?

Maud.
My magic girdle, ta'en by Robin Hood,
The cursed outlaw king o' this green wood.
The spotted pestilence his bow'r surround!
Murrains and rots his antled herds confound!
His Marian, yeomen, guests, and self in turn
Pangs, agues, fevers, rack and shake and burn!
Confusion to their meeting! death and dole
Attend their feast, and harrow ilka soul!

[They go, and Puck re-enters.
Puck.
I went before you, Dame, but yet am here—
Puck can be here, and there, and every where!
Whene'er I please a light and nimble Fairy;
Anon as sluggish; then I'm call'd Puck-hairy.
Those I assist, Robin Good-fellow call
Their friend; while those I scare Hobgoblin bawl.
I am wicked Maud's tame drudge, because I must;
And do her hests, altho' I wish her curst.
But when my term is ended, which draws nigh,
I'll be the beldam's bitterest enemy.
Should Douce turn proud, neglectful of the dairy,
She shall be pinch'd and hag-rid by Puck-hairy!
Unto my namesake, Robin, and his love,
Fair Marian, Robin Good-fellow I'll prove;
So will I to his guests in Sherwood bow'r,
And all his merrymen: to Lorel sour,
I'll be a Will o' the wisp, and oft mislead
His wand'ring steps, 'till in a bog he tread;
Scare him sometimes in shape of wolf or bear,
O'er thorns and briars, his brutal flesh to tear.
But now to Maud—she hath not yet got far;
I'll overtake her like a glancing star!

SCENE changes to Robin Hood's bower; Amie reclining on a seat of turf; Marian and Mellifleur standing on each side of her.
Am.
No, no, you flatter me, sweet Mellifleur;
And you but mock me, Marian, by my troth:
He will not come, alas! he's gone to fish
In Trent's clear stream, where his lov'd sister lies
A prey to those he in revenge shall hook.
But do not touch the finny cannibals,
If he should bring them caught, tho' e'er so pure
And tempting they appear: 'tis with the flesh,
The gorged flesh of drown'd Earine.

Mar.
See, gentle Amie, where kind Karol comes,
With jolly Robin Hood, who blithsome looks;
Chear up, sweet maid, there's comfort yet in store.

Mel.
The courteous Lionel comes with them too.
'Would he were coming Mellifleur to wooe!

[Aside.
Robin Hood, Karolin, and Lionel enter.
Rob.
Here, my bright Marian, is the magic band,
With which the hag was girded, when, like you
As drop to drop of water, I laid hold,
And forc'd her take her own foul shape again:
Now is the mystery clear that caus'd our broil;
The only one our loves did e'er yet soil:
Which nothing short of witchcraft could have done;
Nor shall that more while our lives' currents run.

Mar.
If my lov'd Robin's satisfied, I'm blest;
And thank each chance makes me by thee carest!
Light griefs make after-joys more bright appear,
As clouds dispers'd still shew the heav'ns more clear.
But here's a gentle maid demands our care;
Tender as buds, as new-blown lilies fair;
Drooping with love, and withering with despair.

Kar.
Kind Marian, by your leave; let me desire
But you, and gallant Robin to retire,
With courteous Lionel and Mellifleur;
I will attempt the love-sick maiden's cure.

Rob.
Come then, my Marian, let us see all's set
In order for our feast; I am in thy debt
A countless sum of kisses for what's past.

Mar.
I would the payment might for ever last!

[Robin and Marian retire.
Lio.
Robin and Marian kindly both withdraw,
To give my sister and young Karol law.
Each dove hath got its mate but you and I;
Shall we, sweet Mellifleur, at courtship try?
I' th' rose-and-myrtle grove let us go walk;
And, tho' we wooe not, have some pleasant talk.

Mel.
Each word and look from you I hear and see,
Might serve for wooing a soft maid like me.

[Lionel leads Mellifleur out
Karoline and Amie remain.
Kar.
What ails thee, gentle Amie? what's thy grief?
Look up, sad maid! I come to bring relief;
What I have gather'd since I have been away,
Shall haply be the means thy grief to stay;
Thou lov'st a swain term'd kind; ah! sure he ne'er
Can but be kind to one so passing fair!
One beauteous Virgin of the guests is gone,
My drowned sister! woe enough alone!
Let not another droop, whom aught can save
From a worse fate, a cold and love-lorn grave!
Wilt thou permit me, dearest! to apply
What I think meet, in hope of remedy?
No answer, Amie? silence is consent;
To press my lips to thine is what I meant.
I'll do it chastely as I were thy brother.
[Kisses her.
Have I not, sweet! thou'lt not refuse another?
[Kisses her.
The Shepherds say my kissing pleas'd you so,
That lack of more hath caus'd this loving woe:
You prais'd my voice, they say, and chaunted strain;
Will Amie hear her Karol sing again?
SONG.
'Tis an old saw, “Pity is kin to Love.”
That it is true what I now feel doth prove.
[Aside.
How is my gentle Amie? speak, dear maid!
Thy love to Karolin's with love repaid.

[Kisses her.
Am.
Oh, I'm in Heav'n, kind Karol! where's my pain?
'Twas in my heart but now; 'tis gone again!
Oh, magic touch! thy lips have chas'd all smart,
Warm'd my chill veins, and eas'd my love-sick heart.
Oh, Karolin! sweet Karolin! dear life!
Wilt thou accept fond Amie for thy wife?
In faith I love thee! and, tho' maids should hide
Such wishes, wish I were kind Karol's bride.

Kar.
I'll plight my troth to thee, but cannot wed
Sweet Amie, while in Trent's cold watry bed
My sister lies; poor, drown'd Earine!
Her beauteous body first I'll thence set free,
And lay beneath a holy turf to rest;
Then will we wed, and, blessing, each be blest!

[Exeunt Karolin and Amie.
The SCENE changes to a wild part of the Forest.
John, Scarlet, Scathlock, and George, enter.
John.
This way she went e'en now, and like a hare,
But swifter.

Scar.
No, no; it can never be—
I'll not believe she so could cheat our eyes,
To make us think, while we all look'd on her,
We only saw a weak and timorous hare.
What think you, George? was it old Maud, or no?

George.
I know not what to think, but this I know;
Soon as we saw the witch, John blew his horn,
When suddenly she took her to that brake
Whence sprang what ye have all now run in view;
And while you three pursued the hare-like hag,
Each bush around I beat for her in vain.

Scat.
Troth ye mak mony words, fools as ye are,
To stand here splottering till ye lose yer game;
'Twas Maudlin, the curst crone, ye mar our sport.

[Alken enters to them.
Alk.
Well overtaken, friends! I'm out of breath!
But I have seen from yon o'erhanging hill,
(Whither I went to get protecting herbs)
The various process of the witch's wiles,
And her familiar's pranks, the goblin Puck;
Who, tho' he still, perforce, assists the hag,
Hath done her sordid son each spiteful turn,
As with his sister, Douce, he rang'd around
Through fenny flats, in search of baleful weeds.
Unto the witch's dimble all are gone;
Foul Maudlin; Douce; and Lorel, scar'd by Puck:
Let us too hasten to the hag's dark dell;
My life upon't our hunt shall yet end well.

[Exeunt Alken and the Woodmen.
The SCENE changes to the Witch's Dimble.
Maudlin is seen with her Spindle, Images, &c. &c. &c.
Maud.
Here am I safe—were Douce and Lorel come,
I'd wark a charm suld strike the curst crew dumb.
For their affronts I's mak 'em pay fu' dear,
And homage me, tho' not for love, through fear.
The huntsmen canno', gif they track my way,
Be here as yet, mak a' the speed they may—
Now for my thred, pins, images of wax,
To wark them torments wairs than whips or racks.
[She spins and sings.

[She continues preparing her magical operations.
Alken, John, George, Scarlet, and Scathlock enter.
Alk.
See where she sits, foul hag! her shape resum'd,
In her drear fourm, chaunting some uncouth spell.
Hold fast your vervain, dill, and misletoe;
So shall you safe and all-unseen remain,
Till we may work the wicked beldam's thrall.

Scat.
Sal I lay grip upo' the wily witch?

Alk.
No; wait with patience till her charms are done,
Which cannot hurt as I have counterwork'd;
Then will we seize her, naked of defence.

Maud.
Here come my bairns, well stor'd wi' wicked herbs;
The spurs to evil, and o' gud the curbs.
[Douce and Lorel enter.
Now quick relate what ye ha' carefu' sought.
What ha' ye mist? what ha' ye heedfu' brought?
Lorel's o'er-breath'd; say what ha' ye, first, Douce?

Dou.
Wi' a canker'd herdsman soon as I made truce,
I got some wool fra' a coal-black lamb's back.

Maud.
Out, dunce! it is the blood, not wool, I lack.
What ha' ye else? produce a' in a crack.

Dou.
I ha' brought besides each harmfu' plant ye use,
Whan mankind or their beasts ye wald abuse.
False-smiling crow-foot, savin, and snake-root;
Moon-wort, and bane-wort, wolf and hen-bane both;
Either to lack methought ye wald be loth—
Hemlock, and deadly-night-shade; cypress; yew;
Which, as ye see, a' dropping poisonous dew,
O'er the dank grave of a self-murderer grew.

Maud.
These are but nosegays to my venom'd spite.
Now, Lorel, say, on what did ye alight?

Lor.
By some thwart fiend I was misled and scared,
Sae in my errand I but scantly fared;
And only here and there pick'd up a bit.
Here's snake-weed, paddock-rude, and cuckow-spit;
An unbroke bag of vipers; slow-worm; newt;
An o'ergorg'd spider; rat's-tail; swan's black foot.
And see too, mother, what I (lucky) found—
A jellied star, dropt yesternight to ground—
I guess'd it might be potent in yer craft,
Sae brought it; tho' my sister at me laught.
I spied an adder sucking o' kie 's teat ;
I pu'd it thrice by th' tail, but 'twoud na' quit—
I cut off's head which still clung fast to suck,
And brought the body to ye: but, best luck!
Sprad in a spongy fungus' fewmand shade,
This swoll'n and speckle-bellied toad was laid,
Surcharg'd wi' venom, whilk his bowels brast,
And on his back the ranc'rous reptile cast.
A' these I ha' brought ye, mother; and had more,
But that some fiend (I tell'd ye) scared me sore.

Maud.
Ye 'are daft as Douce, what fiend I trow suld scare
My bairns, when potent Maud and Puck are near?
Now hie ye hence awhile, nor view mine art;
Nae further in my witcheries ye bear part.

Lor.
I's to my tree agen; gif stubborn still
I find the lass, I's force her to my will.

Dou.
And I's gae proyn me new, wi' mickle pains,
Then proudly prance amang the shepherd swains.

[Lorel and Douce depart.
Maud.
Ho! goblin Puck! come at yer dame's desire.

Puck enters.
Puck.
Here I am, dame! what now doth Maud require?
My service almost draweth to an end—
In what shall Puck his last assistance lend?

Maud.
This is nae time to talk—fa' to, stout drudge!
And aid yer mistress wreak the rankled grudge
She bears to Robin Out-law, and his crew—
Scathlock first anger'd me, he first sal rue!
Here are the images of a' my foes;
What's done to them sal cause their like like woes.
For taking back the venison, (come! begin!)
Into the heart of Scathlock run this pin.

Scat.
Hold, damned hell-cat! or, wi'sharpen'd knife,
I's rid the warld o' sic a sinfu' life!

Maud.
Whase voice is that? help, Puck! my spells are cross'd!

Puck.
Hence, dame! forego your purpose, or you're lost!
Your foes are here invisible; aroint!
Their scheme to trap you now I'll disappoint.
Which service ends my thraldom! vanish strait;
Leaving your shade whereon to wreak their hate.

Maud.
Now then I go.

Puck.
Rise, shadow! substance, down!

Maud.
The witch's curse remain! hang, stab, or drown!

[Puck and Maudlin sink with a strange noise; a phantom like the witch rises in her stead, grinning at the huntsmen: they strike at it, and it disappears, leaving them in confusion.
Scat.
Where's Maud?

John.
She sunk!

Scar.
She 'rose again!

Geo.
She's gone!

Alk.
Oh, your impatience has my scheme o'erthrown!
If you had silent waited till each charm
She' had, harmless, practis'd, nor giv'n this alarm;
We should have ta'en her, maugre all her art,
And strait consign'd her to the pool or cart!
But o'er her goblin since she' hath no more pow'r,
I'll end her witcheries this very hour.
Come, let's about it, ere the day grow late;
Then to our friends this magic tale relate.

[Exeunt.