A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VIII (4th edition) - Various
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[_Exeunt_.
SCENE II.
_Enter_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ MATILDA _at one door_; LITTLE JOHN
_and_ MUCH _the Miller's son at another door_.
MUCH. Luck, I beseech thee, marry and amen!
Blessing betide them! (it be them indeed)
Ah, for my good lord and my little lady![185]
ROB. H. What, Much and John! well-met in this ill time.
LIT. JOHN. In this good time, my lord, for, being met,
The world shall not depart us till we die.[186]
MAT. Say'st thou me so, John? as I am true maid,
If I live long, well shall thy love be paid.
MUCH. Well, there be on us, simple though we stand here, have as much
love in them as Little John.
MAT. Much, I confess thou lov'st me very much,
And I will more reward it than with words.
MUCH. Nay, I know that; but we miller's children love the cog a little,
and the fair speaking.
ROB. H. And is it possible that Warman's spite
Should stretch so far, that he doth hunt the lives
Of bonny Scarlet and his brother Scathlock.
MUCH. O, ay, sir: Warman came but yesterday to take charge of the jail
at Nottingham, and this day he says he will hang the two outlaws. He
means to set them at liberty!
MAT. Such liberty God send the peevish wretch,
In his most need.
ROB. H. Now, by my honour's hope,
Yet buried in the low dust of disgrace,
He is to blame. Say, John, where must they die?
LIT. JOHN. Yonder's their mother's house, and here the tree
Whereon, poor men, they must forego their lives:
And yonder comes a lazy losel friar,
That is appointed for their confessor;
Who, when we brought your money to their mothers,
Was wishing her to patience for their deaths.
_Enter_ FRIAR TUCK _and_ RALPH, _Warman's man_.
RAL. I am timorous, sir, that the prigioners are passed from the jail.
FRIAR. Soft, sirrah! by my order I protest
Ye are too forward: 'tis no game, no jest,
We go about.
ROB. H. Matilda, walk afore
To Widow Scarlet's house; look, where it stands.
Much, man your lady: Little John and I
Will come unto you thither presently.
MUCH. Come, madam; my lord has 'pointed the properer man to go before ye.
MAT. Be careful, Robin, in this time of fear.
[_Exeunt_ MUCH, MATILDA.
FRIAR. Now, by the relics of the holy mass,
A pretty girl, a very bonny lass.
ROB. H. Friar, how like you her?
FRIAR. Marry, by my hood,
I like her well, and wish her nought but good.
RAL. Ye protract, Master Friar. I obsecrate ye with all courtesy,
omitting compliment, you would vouch or deign to proceed.
FRIAR, Deign, vouch, protract, compliment, obsecrate?
Why, goodman Tricks, who taught you thus to prate?
Your name, your name? Were you never christen'd?
RAL. My nomination Radulph is, or Ralph: Vulgars corruptly use to call
me Rafe.
FRIAR. O foul corruption of base palliardize,[187]
When idiots, witless, travail to be wise.
Age barbarous, times impious, men vicious!
Able to upraise,
Men dead many days,
That wonted to praise
The rhymes and the lays
Of poets laureate:
Whose verse did decorate,
And their lines 'lustrate
Both prince and potentate.
These from their graves
See asses and knaves,
Base idiot slaves,
With boastings and braves
Offer to upfly
To the heavens high,
With vain foolery
And rude ribaldry.
Some of them write
Of beastly delight,
Suffering their lines
To flatter these times
With pandarism base,
And lust do uncase
From the placket to the pap:
God send them ill-hap!
Some like quaint pedants,
Good wit's true recreants,
Ye cannot beseech
From pure Priscian speech.
Divers as nice,
Like this odd vice,
Are word-makers daily.
Others in courtesy,
Whenever they meet ye,
With new fashions greet ye:
Changing each congee,
Sometime beneath knee,
With, "Good sir, pardon me,"
And much more foolery,
Paltry and foppery,
Dissembling knavery:
Hands sometime kissing,
But honesty missing.
God give no blessing
To such base counterfeiting.
LIT. JOHN. Stop, Master Skelton! whither will you run?
FRIAR. God's pity! Sir John Eltham, Little John,
I had forgot myself. But to our play.
Come, goodman Fashions, let us go our way,
Unto this hanging business. Would, for me,
Some rescue or reprieve might set them free.
[_Exeunt_ FRIAR, RALPH.
ROB. H. Heard'st thou not, Little John, the friar's speech,
Wishing for rescue or a quick reprieve?
LIT. JOHN. He seems like a good fellow, my good lord.
ROB. H. He's a good fellow, John, upon my word.
Lend me thy horn, and get thee in to Much,
And when I blow this horn, come both, and help me.
LIT. JOHN. Take heed, my lord: that villain Warman knows you,
And ten to one he hath a writ against you.
ROB. H. Fear not.
Below the bridge a poor blind man doth dwell,
With him I will change my habit, and disguise:
Only be ready when I call for ye;
For I will save their lives, if it may be.
LIT. JOHN. I will do what you would immediately.
_Enter_ WARMAN, SCARLET, _and_ SCATHLOCK, _bound_;
FRIAR TUCK _as their confessor; officers with halberts_.
WAR. Master Friar, be brief; delay no time.
Scarlet and Scathlock, never hope for life:
Here is the place of execution,
And you must answer law for what is done.
SCAR. Well, if there be no remedy, we must:
Though it ill-seemeth, Warman, thou should'st be
So bloody to pursue our lives thus cruelly.
SCATH. Our mother sav'd thee fro the gallows, Warman:
His father did prefer thee to thy lord.
One mother had we both, and both our fathers
To thee and to thy father were kind friends.
FRIAR. Good fellows, here you see his kindness ends:
What he was once he doth not now consider.
You must consider of your many sins:
This day in death your happiness begins.
SCAR. If you account it happiness, good Friar,
To bear us company I you desire:
The more the merrier; we are honest men.
WAR. Ye were first outlaws, then ye proved thieves,
And now all carelessly ye scoff at death.
Both of your fathers were good, honest men;
Your mother lives, their widow, in good fame;
But you are scapethrifts, unthrifts, villains, knaves,
And as ye lived by shifts, shall die with shame.
SCATH. Warman, good words, for all your bitter deeds:
Ill-speech to wretched men is more than needs.
_Enter_ RALPH, _running_.
RAL. Sir, retire ye, for it hath thus succeeded: the carnifex or
executor, riding on an ill-curtal, hath titubated or stumbled, and is
now cripplified, with broken or fractured tibiards, and, sending you
tidings of success, saith yourself must be his deputy.
WAR. Ill-luck! but, sirrah, you shall serve the turn:
The cords that bind them you shall hang them in.
RAL. How are you, sir, of me opinionated? not to possess your
seneschalship or shrievalty, not to be Earl of Nottingham, will
Ralph be nominated by the base, scandalous vociferation of a
hangman!
_Enter_ ROBIN HOOD, _like an old man_.
ROB. H. Where is the Shrieve, kind friends, I you beseech?
With his good worship let me have some speech.
FRIAR. There is the Sheriff, father: this is he.
ROB. H. Friar, good alms and many blessings! thank thee.
Sir, you are welcome to this troublous shire:
Of this day's execution did I hear.
Scarlet and Scathlock murder'd my young son:
Me have they robb'd and helplessly undone.
Revenge I would, but I am old and dry:
Wherefore, sweet master, for saint Charity,
Since they are bound, deliver them to me,
That for my son's blood I reveng'd may be.
SCAR. This old man lies: we ne'er did him such wrong.
ROB. H. I do not lie: you wot it too-too well.
The deed was such as you may shame to tell;
But I with all entreats might not prevail
With your stern, stubborn minds, bent all to blood.
Shall I have such revenge then, Master Sheriff,
That with my son's loss may suffice myself?
[ROBIN _whispers with them_.
WAR. Do, father, what thou wilt, for they must die.
FRIAR. I never heard them touch'd with blood till now.
WAR. Notorious villains! and they made their brags,
The Earl of Huntington would save their lives:
But he is down the wind, as all such shall,
That revel, waste and spend, and take no care.
ROB. H. My horn once winded, I'll unbind my belt,
Whereat the swords and bucklers are fast-tied.
[_To_ SCARLET _and_ SCATHLOCK.
SCATH. Thanks to your honour. [_Aside_.] Father, we confess,
And were our arms unbound, we would upheave
Our sinful hands with sorrowing hearts to heaven.
ROB. H. I will unbind you, with the sheriff's leave.
WAR. Do: help him, Ralph: go to them, Master Friar.
ROB. H. And as ye blew your horns at my son's death,
So will I sound your knell with my best breath:
[_Sounds his horn_.
And here's a blade, that hangeth at my belt,
Shall make ye feel in death what my son felt.
_Enter_ LITTLE JOHN _and_ MUCH.[188] _Fight: the_ FRIAR,
_making as if he helped the_ SHERIFF, _knocks down his men,
crying, Keep the king's peace_!
RAL. O, they must be hanged, father.
ROB. H. Thy master and thyself supply their rooms.
Warman, approach me not! tempt not my wrath,
For if thou do, thou diest remediless.
WAR. It is the outlaw'd Earl of Huntington!
Down with him, Friar! O, thou dost mistake![189]
Fly, Ralph, we die else! let us raise the shire.
[SHERIFF _runs away, and his men_.
FRIAR. Farewell. Earl Robert, as I am true friar,
I had rather be thy clerk than serve the Prior.
ROB. H. A jolly fellow. Scarlet, know'st thou him?
SCAR. He is of York, and of St Mary's cloister,
There where your greedy uncle is Lord Prior.
MUCH. O, murrain on ye! have you two 'scap'd hanging?[190]
Hark ye, my lord: these two fellows kept at Barnsdale
Seven year to my knowledge, and no man[191]--
ROB. H. Here is no biding, masters: get ye in,
Take a short blessing at your mother's hands.
Much, bear them company; make Matilda merry:
John and myself will follow presently.
John, on a sudden thus I am resolv'd--
To keep in Sherwood till the king's return,
And being outlaw'd, lead an outlaw's life.
(Seven years these brethren, being yeomen's sons,
Lived and 'scap'd the malice of their foes.)[192]
How think'st thou, Little John, of my intent?
LIT. JOHN. I like your honour's purpose exceeding well.
ROB. H. Nay, no more honour, I pray thee, Little John;
Henceforth I will be called Robin Hood.
Matilda shall be my maid Marian.
Come, John, friends all, for now begins the game;
And after our deserts so grow our fame!
[_Exeunt.
ACT III., SCENE I.
_Enter_ PRINCE JOHN, _and his Lords, with Soldiers_.
JOHN. Now is this comet shot into the sea,
Or lies like slime upon the sullen earth.
Come, he is dead, else should we hear of him.
SAL. I know not what to think herein, my lord.
FITZ. Ely is not the man I took him for:
I am afraid we shall have worse than he.
JOHN. Why, good Fitzwater, whence doth spring your fear.
FITZ. Him for his pride we justly have suppress'd;
But prouder climbers are about to rise.
SAL. Name them, Fitzwater: know you any such?
JOHN. Fitzwater means not anything, I know;
For if he did, his tongue would tell his heart.
FITZ. An argument of my free heart, my lord.
That lets the world be witness of my thought.
When I was taught, true dealing kept the school;
Deeds were sworn partners with protesting words;
We said and did; these say and never mean.
This upstart protestation of no proof--
This, "I beseech you, sir, accept my love;
Command me, use me; O, you are to blame,
That do neglect, my everlasting zeal,
My dear, my kind affect;" when (God can tell)
A sudden puff of wind, a lightning flash,
A bubble on the stream doth longer 'dure,
Than doth the purpose of their promise bide.
A shame upon this peevish, apish age,
These crouching, hypocrite, dissembling times!
Well, well, God rid the patrons of these crimes
Out of this land: I have an inward fear,
This ill, well-seeming sin will be bought dear.
SAL. My Lord Fitzwater is inspired, I think.
JOHN. Ay, with some devil: let the old fool dote.
_Enter_ QUEEN MOTHER, CHESTER, SHERIFF _of Kent, Soldiers_.
QU. MO. From the pursuing of the hateful priest
And bootless search of Ely are we come.
JOHN. And welcome is your sacred majesty;
And, Chester, welcome too against your will.
CHES. Unwilling men come not without constraint;
But uncompell'd comes Chester to this place,
Telling thee, John, that thou art much to blame,
To chase hence Ely, chancellor to the king;
To set thy footsteps on the cloth of state,
And seat thy body in thy brother's throne.
SAL. Who should succeed the brother but the brother?
CHES. If one were dead, one should succeed the other.
QU. MO. My son is king, my son then ought to reign.
FITZ. One son is king; the state allows not twain.
SAL. The subjects many years the king have miss'd.
CHES. But subjects must not choose what king they list.
QU. MO. Richard hath conquer'd kingdoms in the east.
FITZ. A sign he will not lose this in the west.
SAL. By Salisbury's honour, I will follow John.
CHES. So Chester will, to shun commotion.
QU. MO. Why, John shall be but Richard's deputy.
FITZ. To that Fitzwater gladly doth agree.
And look to't, lady, mind King Richard's love;
As you will answer't, do the king no wrong.
QU. MO. Well-said, old Conscience, you keep still one song.
JOHN. In your contentious humours, noble lords,
Peers and upholders of the English state,
John silent stood, as one that did await
What sentence ye determin'd for my life:
But since you are agreed that I shall bear
The weighty burthen of this kingdom's state,
Till the return of Richard our dread king,
I do accept the charge, and thank ye all,
That think me worthy of so great a place.
ALL. We all confirm you Richard's deputy.
SAL. Now shall I plague proud Chester.
QU. MO. Sit you sure, Fitzwater.
CHES. For peace I yield to wrong.
JOHN. Now, old man, for your daughter.
FITZ. To see wrong rule, my eyes run streams of water.
[_A noise within_.
_Enter_ COLLIERS, _crying, A monster_!
COL. A monster! a monster! bring her out, Robin: a monster! a monster!
SAL. Peace, gaping fellow! know'st thou where thou art?
1ST COL. Why, I am in Kent, within a mile of Dover.
'Sblood, where I am! peace, and a gaping fellow!
For all your dagger, wert not for your ging,[193]
I would knock my whipstock on your addle-head.
Come, out with the monster, Robin.
WITHIN. I come, I come. Help me, she scratches!
1ST COL. I'll gee her the lash. Come out, ye bearded witch.
[_Bring forth_ ELY, _with a yard in his hand and
linen cloth, dressed like a woman_.
ELY. Good fellows, let me go! there's gold to drink,
I am a man, though in woman's weeds.
Yonder's Prince John: I pray ye, let me go.
QU. MO. What rude companions have we yonder, Salisbury?
1ST COL. Shall we take his money?
2D COL. No, no; this is the thief that robbed Master Michaels, and came
in like a woman in labour, I warrant ye.
SAL. Who have ye here, honest colliers?
2D COL. A monster, a monster! a woman with a beard, a man in a petticoat.
A monster, a monster!
SAL. What, my good Lord of Ely, is it you?--Ely is taken, here's the
chancellor!
1ST COL. Pray God we be not hanged for this trick.
QU. MO. What, my good lord!
ELY. Ay, ay, ambitious lady.
JOHN. Who? My lord chancellor?
ELY. Ay, you proud usurper.
SAL. What, is your surplice turned to a smock?
ELY. Peace, Salisbury, thou changing weather-cock.
CHES. Alas, my lord! I grieve to see this sight.
ELY. Chester, it will be day for this dark night.
FITZ. Ely, thou wert the foe to Huntington:
Robin, thou knew'st, was my adopted son.
O Ely, thou to him wert too-too cruel!
With him fled hence Matilda, my fair jewel.
For their wrong, Ely, and thy haughty pride,
I help'd Earl John; but now I see thee low,
At thy distress my heart is full of woe.
QU. MO. Needs must I see Fitzwater's overthrow.
John, I affect him not, he loves not thee:
Remove him, John, lest thou removed be.
JOHN. Mother, let me alone; by one and one
I will not leave one that envies our good.
My Lord of Salisbury, give these honest colliers
For taking Ely each a hundred marks.
SAL. Come, fellows; go with me.
COL. Thank ye, [i'] faith. Farewell, monster.
[_Exeunt_ SALISBURY, _with_ COLLIERS.
JOHN. Sheriff of Kent, take Ely to your charge.
From shrieve to shrieve send him to Nottingham,
Where Warman, by our patent, is high shrieve.
There, as a traitor, let him be close-kept.
And to his trial we will follow straight.
ELY. A traitor, John?
JOHN. Do not expostulate:
You at your trial shall have time to prate.
[_Exeunt cum_ ELY.
FITZ. God, for thy pity, what a time is here!
JOHN. Right gracious mother, would yourself and Chester
Would but withdraw you for a little space,
While I confer with my good Lord Fitzwater?
QUEEN. My Lord of Chester, will you walk aside?
CHES. Whither your highness please, thither I will.
[_Exeunt_ CHESTER _and_ QUEEN.
JOHN. Soldiers, attend the person of our mother.
[_Exeunt_ SOLDIERS.
Noble Fitzwater, now we are alone,
What oft I have desir'd I will entreat,
Touching Matilda, fled with Huntington.
FITZ. Of her what would you touch? Touching her flight,
She is fled hence with Robert, her true knight.
JOHN. Robert is outlaw'd, and Matilda free;
Why through his fault should she exiled be?
She is your comfort, your old[194] age's bliss;
Why should your age so great a comfort miss?
She is all England's beauty, all her pride;
In foreign lands why should that beauty bide?
Call her again, Fitzwater, call again
Guiltless Matilda, beauty's sovereign.
FITZ. I grant, Prince John, Matilda was my joy,
And the fair sun that kept old Winter's frost
From griping dead the marrow of my bones;
And she is gone; yet where she is, God wot:
Aged Fitzwater truly guesseth not.
But where she is, there is kind Huntington;
With my fair daughter is my noble son.
If he may never be recall'd again,
To call Matilda back it is in vain.
JOHN. Living with him, she lives in vicious state,
For Huntington is excommunicate;
And till his debts be paid, by Rome's decree
It is agreed absolv'd he cannot be;
And that can never be: so ne'er a[195] wife,
But a loathed[196] adulterous beggar's life,
Must fair Matilda live. This you may amend,
And win Prince John your ever-during friend.
FITZ. As how? as how?
JOHN. Call her from him: bring her to England's court,
Where, like fair Phoebe, she may sit as queen
Over the sacred, honourable maids
That do attend the royal queen, my mother.
There shall she live a prince's Cynthia,
And John will be her true Endymion.
FITZ. By this construction she should be the moon,
And you would be the man within the moon!
JOHN. A pleasant exposition, good Fitzwater:
But if it so fell out that I fell in,
You of my full joys should be chief partaker.
FITZ. John, I defy thee! by my honour's hope,
I will not bear this base indignity!
Take to thy tools! think'st thou a nobleman
Will be a pander to his proper[197] child?
For what intend'st thou else, seeing I know
Earl Chepstow's daughter is thy married wife.
Come, if thou be a right Plantaganet,
Draw and defend thee. O our Lady, help
True English lords from such a tyrant lord!
What, dost thou think I jest? Nay, by the rood,
I'll lose my life, or purge thy lustful blood.
JOHN. What, my old ruffian, lie at your ward?[198]
Have at your froward bosom, old Fitzwater.
[_Fight_: JOHN _falls_.
_Enter_ QUEEN, CHESTER, SALISBURY, _hastily_.
FITZ. O, that thou wert not royal Richard's brother,
Thou shouldst here die in presence of thy mother.
[JOHN _rises: all compass_ FITZWATER; FITZWATER _chafes_.
What, is he up? Nay, lords, then give us leave.
CHES. What means this rage, Fitzwater?
QUEEN. Lay hands upon the Bedlam, trait'rous wretch!
JOHN. Nay, hale him hence! and hear you, old Fitzwater:
See that you stay not five days in the realm.
For if you do, you die remediless.
FITZ. Speak, lords: do you confirm what he hath said?
ALL. He is our prince, and he must be obey'd.
FITZ. Hearken, Earl John! but one word will I say.
JOHN. I will not hear thee; neither will I stay.
Thou know'st thy time.
[_Exit_ JOHN.
FITZ. Will not your highness hear?
QUEEN. No: thy Matilda robb'd me of my dear.
[_Exit_ QUEEN.
FITZ. I aided thee in battle, Salisbury.
SAL. Prince John is mov'd; I dare not stay with thee.
[_Exit_ SALISBURY.[199]
FITZ. 'Gainst thee and Ely, Chester, was I foe,
And dost thou stay to aggravate my woe?
CHES. No, good Fitzwater; Chester doth lament
Thy wrong, thy sudden banishment.
Whence grew the quarrel 'twixt the prince and thee?
FITZ. Chester, the devil tempted old Fitzwater
To be a pander to his only daughter;
And my great heart, impatient, forc'd my hand,
In my true honour's right to challenge him.
Alas the while! wrong will not be reprov'd.
CHES. Farewell, Fitzwater: wheresoe'er thou be,
By letters, I beseech thee, send to me.
[_Exit_ CHESTER.
FITZ. Chester, I will, I will.
Heavens turn to good this woe, this wrong, this ill.
[_Exit_.
SCENE II.
_Enter_ SCATHLOCK _and_ SCARLET, _winding their horns,
at several doors. To them enter_ ROBIN HOOD, MATILDA,
_all in green_, SCATHLOCK'S MOTHER, MUCH, LITTLE JOHN:
_all the men with bows and arrows_.
ROB. H. Widow, I wish thee homeward now to wend,
Lest Warman's malice work thee any wrong.
WID. Master, I will; and mickle good attend
On thee, thy love, and all these yeomen strong.
MAT. Forget not, widow, what you promis'd me.
MUCH. O, ay, mistress; for God's sake let's have Jenny.
WID. You shall have Jenny sent you with all speed.
Sons, farewell, and, by your mother's reed,
Love well your master: blessing ever fall
On him, your mistress, and these yeomen tall.
[_Exit_.
MUCH. God be with you, mother: have much mind, I pray, on Much your son,
and your daughter Jenny.
ROB. H. Wind once more, jolly huntsmen, all your horns;
Whose shrill sound, with the echoing wood's assist,
Shall ring a sad knell for the fearful deer,
Before our feathered shafts, death's winged darts,
Bring sudden summons for their fatal ends.
SCAR. It's full seven years since we were outlaw'd first,
And wealthy Sherwood was our heritage:
For all those years we reigned uncontroll'd,
From Barnsdale shrogs to Nottingham's red cliffs;
At Blithe and Tickhill were we welcome guests.
Good George-a-Greene at Bradford was our friend,
And wanton Wakefield's Pinner[200] lov'd us well.
At Barnsley dwells a potter tough and strong,
That never brook'd we brethren should have wrong.
The nuns of Farnsfield (pretty nuns they be)
Gave napkins, shirts, and bands to him and me.
Bateman of Kendal gave us Kendal green,
And Sharpe of Leeds sharp arrows for us made:
At Rotheram dwelt our bowyer, God him bless;
Jackson he hight, his bows did never miss.
This for our good--our scathe let Scathlock 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 myself were twain.
Many resisted, but it was in vain,
For of them all we won the mastery,
And the gilt wreaths were given to him and me.
There by Sir Doncaster of Hothersfield
We were bewray'd, beset, and forc'd to yield,
And so borne bound from thence to Nottingham,
Where we lay doom'd to death till Warman came.
ROB. H. Of that enough. What cheer, my dearest love?
MUCH. O, good cheer anon, sir; she shall have venison her bellyful.
MAT. Matilda is as joyful of thy good
As joy can make her: how fares Robin Hood?
ROB. H. Well, my Matilda, and if thou agree,
Nothing but mirth shall wait on thee and me.
MAT. O God, how full of perfect mirth were I
To see thy grief turn'd to true jollity!
ROB. H. Give me thy hand; now God's curse on me light,
If I forsake not grief, in griefs despite.
Much, make a cry, and, yeomen, stand ye round:
I charge ye never more let woful sound
Be heard among ye; but whatever fall,
Laugh grief to scorn, and so make sorrow small,
Much, make a cry, and loudly: Little John.
MUCH. O God, O God! help, help, help! I am undone, I am undone!
LIT. JOHN. Why, how now, Much? Peace, peace, you roaring slave.
MUCH. My master bad me cry, and I will cry till he bid me leave.
Help, help, help! Ay, marry will I.
ROB. H. Peace, Much. Read on the articles, good John.
LIT. JOHN. First, no man must presume to call our master
By name of Earl, Lord, Baron, Knight, or Squire;
But simply by the name of Robin Hood.
ROB. H. Say, yeomen, to this order will ye yield?
ALL. We yield to serve our master, Robin Hood.
LIT. JOHN. Next, 'tis agreed, if thereto she agree,
That fair Matilda henceforth change her name,
And while it is the chance of Robin Hood
To live in Sherwood a poor outlaw's life,
She by Maid Marian's name be only call'd.