A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VIII (4th edition) - Various
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Blithe sit ye all, and wink at our rude cry:
Mind, where we left in Sherwood merrily
The king, his train Robin, his yeomen tall,
Gone to the wood to see the fat deer fall.
We left maid Marian busy in the bower,
And pretty Jenny looking every hour
For their returning from the hunting-game,
And therefore seek to set each thing in frame.
Warman all woful for his sin we left:
Sir Doncaster, whose villanies and theft
You never heard of, but too soon ye shall,
Housed[259] with the Prior, shame them both befall!
They two will make our mirth be short and small.
But lest I bring ye sorrow ere the time,
Pardon I beg of your well-judging eyne,
And take in part bad prologue and rude play.
The hunters halloo! Tuck must needs away.
Therefore down, weed;
Bow, do the deed
To make the stag bleed;
And if my hand speed,
Hey for a cry,
With a throat strain'd high,
And a loud yall
At the beast's fall
_Enter_ KING, ELY, FITZWATER, SALISBURY, CHESTER,
PRINCE JOHN, LITTLE JOHN, SCATHLOCK.
KING. Where is our mother?[260]
JOHN. Mounted in a stand:
Six fallow deer have died by her hand.
FITZ. Three stags I slew.
ELY. Two bucks by me fell down.
CHES. As many died by me.
SAL. But I had three.
JOHN. Scathlock, where's Much?
SCATH. When last I saw him, may it please your grace,
He and the Friar footed it apace.
JOHN. Scathlock, no grace--your fellow and plain John.
LIT. JOHN. I warrant you, Much will be here anon.
JOHN. Think'st thou, Little John, that he must Jenny wed?
LIT. JOHN. No doubt he must.
JOHN. Then to adorn his head,
We shall have horns good store.
KING. God, for thy grace,
How could I miss the stag I had in chase?
Twice did I hit him in the very neck,
When back my arrows flew, as they had smit
On some sure armour. Where is Robin Hood
And the wight[261] Scarlet? Seek them, Little John.
[_Exit_ LITTLE JOHN.
I'll have that stag, before I dine, to-day.
_Enter_ MUCH.
MUCH. O, the Friar, the Friar, the Friar!
KING. Why, how now, Much?
MUCH. Cry ye mercy, Master King:[262] marry, this is the matter.
Scarlet is following the stag you hit, and has almost lodged him: now,
the Friar has the best bow but yours in all the field; which and
Scarlet had, he would have him straight.
KING. Where is thy master?
MUCH. Nay, I cannot tell, nor the Friar neither.
SCATH. I hear them halloo far off in the wood.
KING. Come, Much, can'st lead us where as Scarlet is?
MUCH. Never fear you: follow me.
[_Exeunt hallooing_.
SCENE II.
_Enter_ SIR DONCASTER, PRIOR.
DON. You were resolv'd to have him poisoned,
Or kill'd, or made away, you car'd not how:
What devil makes you doubtful now to do't?
PRIOR. Why, Doncaster, his kindness in our needs.
DON. A plague upon his kindness! let him die.
I never temper'd poison in my life,
But I employ'd it. By th'mass, and I lose this,
For ever look to lose my company.
PRIOR. But will you give it him?
DON. That cannot be.
The queen, Earl Chester, and Earl Salisbury,
If they once see me, I am a dead man:
Or did they hear my name, I'll lay my life,
They all would hunt me for my life.
PRIOR. What hast thou done to them?
DON. Faith, some odd toys,
That made me fly the south: but pass we them.
Here is the poison; will you give it Robin?
PRIOR. Now, by this gold, I will.
DON. Or, as I said,
For ever I'll defy your company.
PRIOR. Well, he shall die, and in his jollity:
And in my head I have a policy
To make him die disgrac'd.
DON. O, tell it, Prior!
PRIOR. I will, but not as now;
[_Call the_ FRIAR _within_.
We'll seek a place: the woods have many ears,
And some, methinks, are calling for the Friar.[263]
_Enter_ LITTLE JOHN _and_ SCATHLOCK, _calling the_
FRIAR, _as before_.
LIT. JOHN. The Friar! the Friar!
SCATH. Why, where's this Friar?
_Enter_ FRIAR TUCK.
FRIAR. Here, sir: what is your desire?
_Enter_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ WARMAN.[264]
ROB. H. Why, Friar, what a murrain dost thou mean?
The king calls for thee; for a mighty stag
(That hath a copper-ring about his neck
With letters on it, which he would have read)
Hath Scarlet kill'd. I pray thee, go thy way.
FRIAR. Master, I will: no longer will I stay.
[_Exit_ FRIAR TUCK, LITTLE JOHN, _and_ SCATHLOCK.
ROB. H. Good uncle, be more careful of your health,
And yours, Sir Doncaster; your wounds are green.
BOTH. Through your great kindness we are comforted.
ROB. H. And, Warman, I advise you to more mirth.
Shun solitary walks, keep company:
Forget your fault; I have forgiv'n the fault,
Good Warman, be more blithe; and at this time
A little help my Marian and her maid.
Much shall come to you straight: a little now
We must all strive to do the best we may.
[_Exit winding_.[265]
WAR. On you and her I'll wait until my dying day.
[WARMAN _is going out_; DONCASTER _pulls him_.
DON. Warman, a word. My good Lord Prior and I
Are full of grief to see thy misery.
WAR. My misery, Sir Doncaster? why, I thank God,
I never was in better state than now.
PRIOR. Why, what a servile slavish mind hast thou!
Art thou a man, and canst be such a beast,
Ass-like to bear the burthen of thy wrongs?
WAR. What wrong have I? is't wrong to be reliev'd?
DON. Reliev'd, say'st thou? why, shallow-witted fool,
Dost thou not see Robin's ambitious pride,
And how he climbs by pitying, and aspires
By humble looks, good deeds, and such fond toys,
To be a monarch reigning over us,
As if we were the vassals to his will?
WAR. I am his vassal, and I will be still.
PRIOR. Warman, thou art a fool. I do confess,
Were these good deeds done in sincerity--
Pity of mine, thine[266] or this knight's distress,
Without vain brags--it were true charity:
But to relieve our fainting bodies' wants,
And grieve our souls with quips and bitter 'braids,
Is good turns overturn'd: no thanks we owe
To any whatsoever helps us so.
WAR. Neither himself nor any that he keeps
Ever upbraided me, since I came last.
DON. O God, have mercy on thee, silly ass!
Doth he not say to every guest that comes,
This same is Warman, that was once my steward?
WAR. And what of that?
PRIOR. Is't not as much to say,
Why, here he stands that once did me betray?
DON. Did he not bring a troop to grace himself,
Like captives waiting on a conqueror's chair,
And calling of them out by one and one,
Presented them, like fairings, to the king?[267]
PRIOR. O, ay: there was a rare invention.
A plague upon the fool!
I hate him worse for that than all the rest.
WAR. Why should you hate him? why should you--or you--
Envy this noble lord thus, as you do?
DON. Nay rather, why dost thou not join in hate
With us, that lately liv'd, like us, in wealthy state?
Remember this, remember, foolish man,
How thou hast been the Shrieve of Nottingham.
PRIOR. Cry to thy thoughts, let this thought never cease--
"I have been justice of my sovereign's peace,
Lord of fair livings; men with cap and knee
In liveries waited hourly on me."
DON. And when thou think'st thou hast been such and such,
Think then what 'tis to be a mate to Much?
To run when Robin bids, come at his call,
Be Mistress Marian's man.
PRIOR. Nay, think withal--
WAR. What shall I think, but think upon my need,
When men fed dogs, and me they would not feed?
When I despair'd through want, and sought to die,
My piteous master, of his charity,
Forgave my fault, reliev'd and saved me.
This do I think upon; and you should think
(If you had hope of soul's salvation)--
First, Prior, that he is of thy flesh and blood,
That thou art uncle unto Robin Hood;
That by extortion thou didst get his lands--
God and I know how it came to thy hands:
How thou pursued'st him in his misery,
And how heaven plagued thy heart's extremity.
Think, Doncaster, when, hired by this Prior,
Thou cam'st to take my master with the Friar,
And wert thyself ta'en; how he set thee free,
Gave thee an hundred pound to comfort thee.
And both bethink ye, how but yesterday
Wounded and naked in the field you lay;
How with his own hand he did raise your heads,
Pour'd balm into your wounds, your bodies fed,
Watch'd when ye slept, wept when he saw your woe--
DON. Stay, Warman, stay! I grant that he did so;
And you, turn'd honest, have forsworn the villain?
WAR. Even from my soul I villany defy.
PRIOR. A blessed hour; a fit time now to die.
DON. And you shall, conscience.
[_Stabs him_, WARMAN _falls_.
WAR. O, forgive me, God,
And save my master from their bloody hands!
PRIOR. What, hast thou made him sure?
DON. It's dead--sure he is dead, if that be sure?
PRIOR. Then let us thrust the dagger in his hand,
And when the next comes, cry he kill'd himself.
DON. That must be now: yonder comes Robin Hood.
No life in him?
PRIOR. No, no, not any life.
Three mortal wounds have let in piercing air,
And at their gaps his life is clean let out.
_Enter_ ROBIN HOOD.
ROB. H. Who is it, uncle, that you so bemoan?
PRIOR. Warman, good nephew, whom Sir Doncaster and I
Found freshly bleeding, as he now doth lie.
You were scarce gone, when he did stab himself.
ROB. H. O God!
He in his own hand holds his own heart's hurt:
I dreaded, too, much his distressed look.
Belike the wretch despair'd, and slew himself.
DON. Nay. that's most sure: yet he had little reason,
Considering how well you used him.
ROB. H. Well, I am sorry, but must not be sad,
Because the king is coming to my bower.
Help me, I pray thee, to remove his body,
Lest he should come and see him murdered.
Some time anon he shall be buried.
[_Exeunt_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ SIR DONCASTER _with the body_.[268]
PRIOR. Good! all is good! this is as I desire:
Now for a face of pure hypocrisy.
Sweet murder, clothe thee in religious weeds,
Reign in my bosom, that with help of thee
I may effect this Robin's tragedy.
_Enter_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ SIR DONCASTER.
DON. Nay, nay, you must not take this thing so heavily.
ROB. H. A body's loss, Sir Doncaster, is much;
But a soul's too is more to be bemoan'd.
PRIOR. Truly I wonder at your virtuous mind.
O God, to one so kind who'd be unkind!
Let go this grief: now must you put on joy,
And for the many favours I have found,
So much exceeding all conceit of mine,
Unto your cheer I'll add a precious drink,
Of colour rich and red, sent me from Rome,
There's in it moly,[269] Syrian balsamum,
Gold's rich elixir; O, 'tis precious!
ROB. H. Where is it, uncle?
PRIOR. As yesterday
Sir Doncaster and I rid on our way,
Thieves did beset us, bound us, as you saw,
And among other things did take from me
This rich confection: but regardlessly,
As common drink, they cast into a bush
The bottle, which this day Sir Doncaster
Fetch'd, and hath left it in the inner lodging.
I tell you, nephew (I do love you well).
A pint of this ransom'd the Sophy's son
When he was taken in Natolia.
I meant, indeed, to give it my liege lord,
In hope to have his favour; but to you
I put myself: be my good friend,
And, in your own restoring me restore.
ROB. H. Uncle, I will; you need urge that no more.
But what's the virtue of this precious drink?
PRIOR. It keeps fresh youth, restores diseased sight,
Helps nature's weakness, smooths the scars of wounds,
And cools the entrails with a balmy breath,
When they, by thirst or travail, boil with heat.
ROB. H. Uncle, I thank you: pray you, let me have
A cup prepared 'gainst the king comes in,
To cool his heat: myself will give it him.
PRIOR. And when he drinks, be bold to say, he drinks
A richer draught than that dissolved pearl,
Which Cleopatra drank to Antony.
ROB. H. I have much business: let it be your charge
To make this rich draught ready for the king,
And I will quit it; pray ye, do not fail.
[_Exit_.
PRIOR. I warrant you, good nephew.
DON. Better and better still!
We thought before but to have poison'd him,
And now shall Robin Hood destroy the king.
Even when the king, the queen, the prince, the lords,
Joy in his virtues, this supposed vice
Will turn to sharp hate their exceeding love.
PRIOR. Ha, ha, ha! I cannot choose but laugh,
To see my cousin cozen'd in this sort.
Fail him, quoth you; nay, hang me if I do.
But, Doncaster, art sure the poisons are well-mix'd?
DON. Tut, tut! let me alone for the poisoning:
I have already turn'd o'er four or five,
That anger'd[270] me. But tell me, Prior,
Wherefore so deadly dost thou hate thy cousin?
PRIOR. Shall I be plain? because, if he were dead,
I should be made the Earl of Huntington.
DON. A pretty cause; but thou a churchman art.
PRIOR. Tut, man, if that would fall,
I'll have a dispensation, and turn temporal.
But tell me, Doncaster, why dost thou hate him?
DON. By the mass, I cannot tell. O yes, now I ha't:
I hate thy cousin Earl of Huntington,
Because so many love him as there do,
And I myself am loved of so few.
Nay, I have other reasons for my hate:
He is a fool, and will be reconcil'd
To any foe he hath: he is too mild,
Too honest for this world, fitter for heaven.
He will not kill these greedy cormorants,
Nor strip base peasants of the wealth they have!
He does abuse a thief's name and an outlaw's,
And is, indeed, no outlaw nor no thief:
He is unworthy of such reverend names.
Besides, he keeps a paltry whimling[271] girl,
And will not bed, forsooth, before he bride.
I'll stand to't, he abuses maidenhead;
That will not take it, being offered,
Hinders the commonwealth of able men.
Another thing I hate him for again:
He says his prayers, fasts eves, gives alms, does good:
For these and such like crimes swears Doncaster
To work the speedy death of Robin Hood.
PRIOR. Well-said, i' faith. Hark, hark! the
king returns;
To do this deed my heart like fuel burns.
[_Exeunt_.
_Wind horns. Enter_ KING, QUEEN, JOHN, FITZWATER,
ELY, CHESTER, SALISBURY, LEICESTER, LITTLE JOHN,
FRIAR TUCK, SCARLET, SCATHLOCK, _and_ MUCH: FRIAR
TUCK _carrying a stag's head, dancing_.
KING. Gramercy, Friar, for thy glee,
Thou greatly hast contented me:
What with thy sporting and thy game,
I swear, I highly pleased am.
FRIAR. It was my master's whole desire
That maiden, yeoman, swain, and friar,
Their arts and wits should all apply
For pleasure of your majesty.
QUEEN. Son Richard, look, I pray you, on the ring,
That was about the neck of the last stag.
CHES. Was his name Scarlet, that shot off his neck?
JOHN. Chester, it was this honest fellow Scarlet:
This is the fellow, and a yeoman bold
As ever cours'd the swift hart on the mould.
KING. Friar, here's somewhat 'graved upon the ring;
I pray thee read it: meanwhile, list to me.
[_This while most compassing the_ FRIAR _about the ring_.
Scarlet and Scathlock, you bold brethren,
Twelvepence a day I give each for his fee;
And henceforth see ye live like honest men.
BOTH. We will, my liege, else let us die the death.
MUCH. A boon, a boon, upon my knee,
Good King Richard, I beg of thee!
For indeed, sir, the troth is, Much is my father, and he is one of your
tenants, in King's Mill at Wakefield, all on a green:--
O there dwelleth a jolly pinder,
At Wakefield, all on a green.[272]
Now I would have you, if you will do so much for me, to set me forward
in the way of marriage to Jenny: the mill would not be cast away upon us.
KING. Much, be thou ever master of that mill:
I give it thee for thine inheritance.
MUCH. Thanks, precious prince of courtesy.
I'll to Jenny, and tell her of my lands, i'faith.
[_Exit_.
JOHN. Here, Friar, here; here it begins.
FRIAR (_reads_). "When Harold Harefoot reigned king,
About my neck he put this ring."
KING. In Harold's time? more than a hundred year
Hath this ring been about this new-slain deer!
I am sorry now it died; but let the same
Head, ring and all, be sent to Nottingham,
And in the castle kept for monument.[273]
FITZ. My liege, I heard an old tale long ago,
That Harold, being Godwin's son of Kent,[274]
When he had got fair England's government,
Hunted for pleasure once within this wood,
And singled out a fair and stately stag,
Which foot to foot the king in running caught:
And sure this was the stag.
KING. It was, no doubt.
CHES. But some, my lord, affirm
That Julius Caesar, many years before,
Took such a stag, and such a poesy writ.
KING. It should not be in Julius Caesar's time.
There was no English used in this land
Until the Saxons came; and this is writ
In Saxon characters.
JOHN. Well, 'twas a goodly beast.
_Enter_ ROBIN HOOD.
KING. How now, Earl Robert?
FRIAR. A forfeit, a forfeit, my liege lord!
My master's laws are on record!
The court-roll here your grace may see.
KING. I pray thee, Friar, read it me.[275]
FRIAR. One shall suffice, and this is he.
No man, that cometh in this wood
To feast or dwell with Robin Hood,
Shall call him earl, lord, knight, or squire:
He no such titles doth desire,
But Robin Hood, plain Robin Hood,
That honest yeoman stout and good,
On pain of forfeiting a mark,
That must be paid to me his clerk.
My liege, my liege, this law you broke,
Almost in the last word you spoke:
That crime may not acquitted be,
Till Friar Tuck receive his fee.
KING. There's more than twenty marks, mad Friar.
[_Casts him purse_.
FRIAR. If thus you pay the clerk his hire,
Oft may you forfeit, I desire.
You are a perfect penitent,
And well you do your wrong repent:
For this your highness' liberal gift
I here absolve you without shrift.
KING. Gramercies, Friar. Now, Robin Hood,
Sith Robin Hood it needs must be,
I was about to ask before,
If thou didst see the great stag's fall.
ROB. H. I did, my lord, I saw it all;
But missing this same prating friar,
And hearing you so much desire
To have the losel's company,
I went to seek Small-Honesty.
FRIAR. But you found Much, when you found me.
ROB. H. Ay, Much my man; but not a jot
Of honesty in thee, God wot.
QUEEN. Robin, you do abuse the Friar.
FRIAR. Madam, I dare not call him liar:
He may be bold with me, he knows.
How now, Prince John, how goes, how goes
This woodman's life with you to-day?
My fellow Woodnet you would be.
JOHN. I am thy fellow, thou dost see;
And to be plain, as God me save,
So well I like thee, merry knave,
That I thy company must have:
Nay, and I will.
FRIAR. Nay, and you shall.
ROB. H. My lord, you need not fear at all,
But you shall have his company:
He will be bold, I warrant you.
KING. Know you, where-e'er a spring is nigh?
Fain would I drink, I am right dry.
ROB. H. I have a drink within my bower
Of pleasant taste and sovereign power:
My reverend uncle gives it me,
To give unto your majesty.
KING. I would be loth, indeed, being in heat
To drink cold water. Let us to thy bower.
ROB. H. Run, Friar, before,
And bid my uncle be in readiness.
FRIAR. Gone in a trice[276] on such good business.
[_Exeunt omnes_.
SCENE III.[277]
_Enter_ MARIAN, _with a white apron_.
MAR. What, Much! What, Jenny! Much, I say!
MUCH. What's the matter, mistress?
MAR. I pray thee, see the fueller
Suffer the cook to want no wood.
Good Lord, where is this idle girl?
Why, Jenny!
JENNY (_within_). I come, forsooth.
MAR. I pray thee, bring the flowers forth.
MUCH. I'll go send her, mistress, and help the cooks, if they have
any need.
MAR. Despatch, good Much. What, Jen, I say!
_Enter_ JENNY.
MUCH. Hie ye, hie ye! she calls for life. [_Exit_ MUCH.
MAR. Indeed, indeed, you do me wrong,
To let me cry, and call so long.
JEN. Forsooth, I straw'd[278] the dining bowers,
And smooth'd the walks with herbs and flowers.
The yeomen's tables I have spread,
Dress'd salts, laid trenchers, set on bread.
Nay, all is well, I warrant you.
MAR. You are not well, I promise you,
Your 'foresleeves are not pinn'd; fie, fie!
And all your head-gear stands awry.
Give me the flowers. Go in, for shame,
And quickly see you mend the same.
[_Exit_ JENNY.
_Enter_ SIR DONCASTER, PRIOR. MARIAN _strewing flowers_.
DON. How busy Mistress Marian is!
She thinks this is her day of bliss.
PRIOR. But it shall be the wofull'st day
That ever chanc'd her, if I may.
MAR. Why are you two thus in the air?
Your wounds are green. Good coz, have care.
PRIOR. Thanks for your kindness, gentle maid:
My cousin Robert us hath prayed
To help him in his business.
_Enter_ FRIAR.
FRIAR. Sir Doncaster, Sir Doncaster!
DON. Holla!
FRIAR. I pray you, did you see the Prior?
PRIOR. Why, here I am. What wouldst thou. Friar?
FRIAR. The king is heated in the chase,
And posteth hitherward apace.
He told my master he was dry,
And he desires ye presently
To send the drink whereof ye spake.
PRIOR. Come, it is here: haste let us make.
[_Exeunt_ DONCASTER, PRIOR, _and_ FRIAR.
_Horns blow.
Enter_ KING, QUEEN, JOHN, SCARLET, SCATHLOCK,
ELY, FITZWATER, SALISBURY, CHESTER.
MARIAN _kneels down_.
MAR. Most gracious sovereign, welcome once again:
Welcome to you and all your princely train.
KING. Thanks, lovely hostess; we are homely guests.
Where's Robin Hood? he promis'd me some drink.
MAR. Your handmaid, Robin, will not then be long:
The Friar, indeed, came running to his uncle,
Who, with Sir Doncaster, were here with me,
And all together went for such a drink.
KING. Well, in a better time it could not come,
For I am very hot and passing dry.
_Enter_ ROBIN HOOD, _with a cup, a towel, leading_
DONCASTER: TUCK _and_ MUCH _pulling the_ PRIOR.
ROB. H. Traitor! I'll draw thee out before the king.
FRIAR. Come, murderous Prior.
MUCH. Come, ye dog's face.
KING. Why, how now, Robin? Where's the drink you bring?
ROB. H. Lay hold on these!
Far be it I should bring your majesty
The drink these two prepared for your taste.
KING. Why, Robin Hood? be brief and answer me.
I am amazed at thy troubled looks.
ROB. H. Long will not my ill-looks amaze your grace;
I shortly look never to look again.
MAR. Never to look! What, will it still be night?
If thou look never, day can never be.
What ails my Robin? Wherefore dost thou faint?
ROB. H. Because I cannot stand: yet now I can.
[KING _and_ MARIAN _support him_.
Thanks to my king, and thanks to Marian.
KING. Robin, be brief, and tell us what hath chanc'd.
ROB. H. I must be brief, for I am sure of death,
Before a long tale can be half-way told.
FITZ. Of death, my son! bright sun of all my joy!
Death cannot have the power of[279] virtuous life.
ROB. H. Not o'er[280] the virtues, but the life it can.
KING. What, dost thou speak of death? how shouldst thou die?
ROB. H. By poison and the Prior's treachery.
QUEEN. Why, take this sovereign powder at my hands:
Take it, and live in spite of poison's power.
DON. Ay, set him forward. Powders, quoth ye? hah!
I am a fool, then, if a little dust,
The shaving of a horn, a Bezoar stone,[281]
Or any antidote have power to stay
The execution of my heart's resolve.
Tut, tut! you labour, lovely queen, in vain,
And on a thankless groom your toil bestow.
Now hath your foe reveng'd you of your foe:
Robin shall die, if all the world said no.[282]
MAR. How the wolf howls! Fly, like a tender kid,
Into thy shepherd's bosom. Shield me, love!
Canst thou not, Robin? Where shall I be hid?
O God! these ravens will seize upon thy dove.
ROB. H. They cannot hurt thee; pray thee, do not fear:
Base curs will couch, the lion being near.
QUEEN. How works my powder?
ROB. H. Very well, fair queen.
KING. Dost thou feel any ease?
ROB. H. I shall, I trust, anon:
Sleep falls upon mine eyes. O, I must sleep,
And they that love me, do not waken me.
MAR. Sleep in my lap, and I will sing to thee.
JOHN. He should not sleep.
ROB. H. I must, for I must die;
While I live, therefore, let me have some rest.
FITZ. Ay, let him rest: the poison urges sleep.
When he awakes, there is no hope of life.
DON. Of life! Now, by the little time I have to live,
He cannot live one hour for your lives.
KING. Villain! what art thou?
DON. Why, I am a knight.
CHES. Thou wert indeed. If it so please your grace,
I will describe my knowledge of this wretch.
KING. Do, Chester.
CHES. This Doncaster, for so the felon hight,
Was by the king, your father, made a knight,
And well in arms he did himself behave.
Many a bitter storm the wind of rage
Blasted this realm within those woful days,
When the unnatural fights continued
Between your kingly father and his sons.
This cutthroat, knighted in that time of woe,
Seized on a beauteous nun at Berkhamstead,
As we were marching toward Winchester,
After proud Lincoln was compell'd to yield.
He took this virgin straying in the field--
For all the nuns and every covent[283] fled
The dangers that attended on our troops:
For those sad times too oft did testify,
War's rage hath no regard to piety--
She humbly pray'd him, for the love of heaven,
To guide her to her father's, two miles thence:
He swore he would, and very well he might,
For to the camp he was a forager.
Upon the way they came into a wood,
Wherein, in brief, he stripp'd this tender maid:
Whose lust, when she in vain had long withstood,
Being by strength and torments overlaid,
He did a sacrilegious deed of rape,
And left her bathed in her own tears and blood.
When she reviv'd, she to her father's got,
And got her father to make just complaint
Unto your mother, being then in camp.