A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VIII (4th edition) - Various
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QUEEN. Were this bear loose, how he would tear our maws.
CHES. Pale death and vengeance dwell within his jaws.
SAL. But we can muzzle him, and bind his paws:
If King John say we shall, we will indeed.
JOHN. Do, if you can.
LEI. It's well thou hast some fear.
No, curs! ye have no teeth to bait this bear.[220]
I will not bid mine ensign-bearer wave
My tattered colours in this worthless air,
Which your vile breaths vilely contaminate.
Bearer,[221] thou'st been my ancient-bearer long,
And borne up Leicester's bear in foreign lands;
Yet now resign these colours to my hands,
For I am full of grief and full of rage.
John, look upon me: thus did Richard take
The coward Austria's colours in his hand,
And thus he cast them under Acon walls,
And thus he trod them underneath his feet.
Rich colours, how I wrong ye by this wrong!
But I will right ye. Bear[er], take them again,
And keep them ever, ever them maintain:
We shall have use for them, I hope, ere long.
JOHN. Dar'st thou attempt this proudly in our sight?
LEI. What is't a subject dares, that I dare not?
SAL. Dare subjects dare, their sovereign being by?
LEI. O God, that my true sovereign were nigh!
QUEEN. Leicester, he is.
LEI. Madam, by God, you lie.
CHES. Unmanner'd man.
LEI. A plague of reverence,
Where no regard is had of excellence. [_Sound drum_.
But you will quite[222] me now: I hear your drums:
Your principality hath stirr'd up men,
And now you think to muzzle up this bear.
Still they come nearer, but are not the near.
JOHN. What drums are these?
SAL. I think, some friends of yours
Prepare a power to resist this wrong.
LEI. Let them prepare, for Leicester is prepar'd,
And thus he wooes his willing men to fight.
Soldiers,[223] ye see King Richard's open wrong;
Richard, that led ye to the glorious East,
And made ye tread upon the blessed land,
Where he, that brought all Christians blessedness,
Was born, lived, wrought his miracles, and died,
From death arose, and then to heaven ascended;
Whose true religious faith ye have defended.
Ye fought, and Richard taught ye how to fight
Against profane men, following Mahomet;
But, if ye note, they did their kings their right:
These more than heathen sacrilegious men,
Professing Christ, banish Christ's champion hence,
Their lawful lord, their home-born sovereign,
With petty quarrels and with slight pretence.
_Enter_ RICHMOND, _Soldiers_.
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 have borne head!
You are the men that ever conquered:
If multitudes oppress ye that ye die,
Let's sell our lives, and leave them valiantly.
Courage! upon them! till we cannot stand.
JOHN. Richmond is yonder.
QUEEN. Ay, and, son, I think,
The king is not far off.
CHES. Now heaven forfend!
LEI. Why smite ye not, but stand thus cowardly?
RICH. If Richmond hurt good Leicester, let him die.
LEI. Richmond! O, pardon mine offending eye,
That took thee for a foe: welcome, dear friend!
Where is my sovereign Richard? Thou and he
Were both in Austria. Richmond, comfort me,
And tell me where he is, and how he fares.
O, for his ransom, many thousand cares
Have me afflicted.
RICH. Leicester, he is come to London,
And will himself to faithless Austria,
Like a true king, his promis'd ransom bear.
LEI. At London, say'st thou, Richmond? is he there?
Farewell: I will not stay to tell my wrongs
To these pale-colour'd, heartless, guilty lords.
Richmond, you shall go with me: do not stay,
And I will tell you wonders by the way.
RICH. The king did doubt you had some injury,
And therefore sent this power to rescue ye.
LEI. I thank his grace. Madam, adieu, adieu.
I'll to your son, and leave your shade with you.
[_Exeunt_.
JOHN. Hark how he mocks me, calling me your shade.
Chester and Salisbury, shall we gather power,
And keep what we have got?
CHES. And in an hour
Be taken, judg'd, and 'headed with disgrace.
Salisbury, what say you?
SAL. My lord, I bid your excellence adieu.
I to King Richard will submit my knee:
I have good hope his grace will pardon me.
CHES. And, Salisbury, I'll go along with thee.
Farewell, Queen Mother; fare you well, Lord John.
JOHN. Mother, stay you.
QUEEN. Not I, son, by Saint Anne.
JOHN. Will you not stay?
QUEEN. Go with me: I will do the best I may
To beg my son's forgiveness of my son. [_Exit_.
JOHN. Go by yourself. By heaven, 'twas 'long of you
I rose to fall so soon. Leicester and Richmond's crew,
They come to take me: now too late I rue
My proud attempt. Like falling Phaeton,
I perish from my guiding of the sun.
_Enter again_ LEICESTER _and_ RICHMOND.[224]
LEI. I will go back, i' faith, once more and see,
Whether this mock king and the Mother Queen--
And who--Here's neither queen nor lord!
What, king of crickets, is there none but you?
Come off, [this crown: this sceptre, off!][225]
This crown, this sceptre are King Richard's right:
Bear thou them, Richmond, thou art his true knight.
You would not send his ransom, gentle John;
He's come to fetch it now. Come, wily fox,
Now you are stripp'd out of the lion's case,
What, dare you look the lion in the face?
The English lion, that in Austria
With his strong hand pull'd out a lion's heart.
Good Richmond, tell it me; for God's sake, do:
O, it does me good to hear his glories told.
RICH. Leicester, I saw King Richard with his fist
Strike dead the son of Austrian Leopold,
And then I saw him, by the duke's command,
Compass'd and taken by a troop of men,
Who led King Richard to a lion's den.
Opening the door, and in a paved court,
The cowards left King Richard weaponless:
Anon comes forth the fire-eyed dreadful beast,
And with a heart-amazing voice he roar'd,
Opening (like hell) his iron-toothed jaws,
And stretching out his fierce death-threatening paws.
I tell thee, Leicester, and I smile thereat
(Though then, God knows, I had no power to smile),
I stood by treacherous Austria all the while,
Who in a gallery with iron grates
Stay'd to behold King Richard made a prey.
LEI. What was't thou smiledst at in Austria?
RICH. Leicester, he shook--so help me God, he shook--
With very terror at the lion's look.
LEI. Ah, coward! but go on, what Richard did.
RICH. Richard about his right hand wound a scarf
(God quite her for it) given him by a maid:
With endless good may that good deed be paid!
And thrust that arm down the devouring throat
Of the fierce lion, and withdrawing it,
Drew out the strong heart of the monstrous beast,
And left the senseless body on the ground.
LEI. O royal Richard: Richmond, look on John:
Does he not quake in hearing this discourse?
Come, we will leave him, Richmond: let us go.
John, make suit
For grace, that is your [only] means, you know.
[_Exeunt_.
JOHN. A mischief on that Leicester! is he gone?
'Twere best go too, lest in some mad fit
He turn again, and lead me prisoner.
Southward I dare not fly: fain, fain I would
To Scotland bend my course; but all the woods
Are full of outlaws, that in Kendal green
Follow the outlaw'd Earl of Huntington.
Well, I will clothe myself in such a suit,
And by that means as well 'scape all pursuit,
As pass the danger-threatening Huntington;
For, having many outlaws, they'll think me
By my attire one of their mates to be.
[_Exit_.
SCENE 2.
_Enter_ SCARLET, LITTLE JOHN, _and_ FRIAR TUCK.
FRIAR. Scarlet and John, so God me save,
No mind unto my beads I have:
I think it be a luckless day,
For I can neither sing nor say;
Nor have I any power to look
On portace or on matin book.
SCAR. What is the reason, tell us, Friar?
FRIAR. And would ye have me be no liar?
LIT. JOHN. No. God defend that you should lie:
A churchman be a liar?--fie!
FRIAR. Then, by this hallow'd crucifix,
The holy water and the pix,
It greatly at my stomach sticks,
That all this day we had no gues',[226]
And have of meat so many a mess.
MUCH _brings out_ ELY, _like a countryman with a basket_.
MUCH. Well, and ye be but a market, ye are but a market-man.
ELY. I am sure, sir, I do you no hurt, do I?
SCAR. We shall have company, no doubt:
My fellow Much hath found one out.
FRIAR. A fox, a fox! as I am friar,
Much is well worthy of good hire.
LIT. JOHN. Say, Friar, soothly, know'st thou him!
FRIAR. It is a wolf in a sheep's skin.
Go, call our master, Little John;
A glad man will he be anon.
It's Ely, man, the chancellor. [_Aside_.]
LIT. JOHN. God's pity! look unto him, Friar.
[_Aside. Exit_ LITTLE JOHN.
MUCH. What, ha' ye eggs to sell, old fellow?
ELY. Ay, sir, some few; and those my need constrains me bear to
Mansfield, that I may sell them there to buy me bread.
SCAR. Alas, good man! I prythee, where dost dwell?
ELY. I dwell in Oxon, sir.
SCAR. I know the town.
MUCH. Alas, poor fellow! if thou dwell with oxen, it's strange they do
not gore thee with their horns.
ELY. Masters, I tell ye truly where I dwell,
And whither I am going; let me go.
Your master would be much displeas'd, I know,
If he should hear you hinder poor men thus.
FRIAR. Father, one word with you, before we part.
MUCH. Scarlet, the Friar will make us have anger all.
Farewell; and bear me witness, though I stay'd him,
I stay'd him not. An old fellow and a market man! [_Exit_.
FRIAR. Whoop! in your riddles, Much? then we shall ha't.
SCAR. What dost thou, Friar? prythee, let him go.
FRIAR. I prythee, Scarlet, let us two alone.
[_Exit_ SCAR.
ELY. Friar, I see thou know'st me: let me go,
And many a good turn I to thee will owe.
FRIAR. My master's service bids me answer no,
Yet love of holy churchmen wills it so.
Well, good my lord, I will do what I may
To let your holiness escape away.
_Enter_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ LITTLE JOHN.[227]
Here comes my master: if he question you,
Answer him like a plain man, and you may pass.
ELY. Thanks, Friar.
FRIAR. O, my lord thinks me an ass.
ROB. H. Friar, what honest man is there with thee?
FRIAR. A silly man, good master. I will speak for you:
Stand you aloof, for fear they note your face. [_To_ ELY.
Master, in plain,
It were but in vain,
Long to detain
With toys or with babbles,
With fond, feigned fables;
But him that you see
In so mean degree
Is the Lord Ely,
That help'd to exile you,
That oft did revile you.
Though in his fall
His train be but small,
And no man at all
Will give him the wall,
Nor lord doth him call,
Yet he did ride,
On jennets pied,
And knights by his side
Did foot it each tide.
O, see the fall of pride.[228]
ROB. H. Friar, enough. [_Aside_.
FRIAR. I pray, sir, let him go,
He is a very simple man in show:
He dwells at Oxon, and to us doth say,
To Mansfield market he doth take his way.
LIT. JOHN. Friar, this is not Mansfield market-day.
ROB. H. What would he sell?
FRIAR. Eggs, sir, as he says.
ROB. H. Scarlet, go thy ways:
Take in this old man, fill his skin with venison,
And after give him money for his eggs.
ELY. No, sir, I thank you, I have promis'd them
To Master Bailey's wife, of Mansfield, all.
ROB. H. Nay, sir, you do me wrong:
No Bailey nor his wife shall have an egg.
Scarlet, I say, take his eggs, and give him money.
ELY. Pray, sir.
FRIAR. Tush, let him have your eggs.
ELY. Faith, I have none.
FRIAR. God's pity, then, he will find you some.[229]
SCAR. Here are no eggs, nor anything but hay.
Yes, by the mass, here's somewhat like a seal!
ROB. H. O God!
My prince's seal! fair England's royal seal!
Tell me, thou man of death, thou wicked man,
How cam'st thou by this seal? wilt thou not speak?
Bring burning irons! I will make him speak.
For I do know the poor distressed lord,
The king's vicegerent, learned, reverend Ely,
Flying the fury of ambitious John,
Is murder'd by this peasant. Speak, vile man,
Where thou hast done thrice honourable Ely!
ELY. Why dost thou grace Ely with styles of grace,
Who thee with all his power sought to disgrace?
ROB. H. Belike, his wisdom saw some fault in me.
ELY. No, I assure thee, honourable earl;
It was his envy, no defect of thine,
And the persuasions of the Prior of York,
Which Ely now repents. See, Huntington,
Ely himself, and pity him, good son.
ROB. H. Alas, for woe! alack, that so great state
The malice of this world should ruinate!
Come in, great lord, sit down and take thy ease,
Receive the seal, and pardon my offence.
With me you shall be safe, and if you please,
Till Richard come, from all men's violence.
Aged Fitzwater, banished by John,
And his fair daughter shall converse with you:
I and my men that me attend upon
Shall give you all that is to honour due.
Will you accept my service, noble lord?
ELY. Thy kindness drives me to such inward shame,
That, for my life, I no reply can frame.
Go; I will follow. Blessed may'st thou be,
That thus reliev'st thy foes in misery!
[_Exeunt_.
LIT. JOHN. Skelton, a word or two beside the play.
FRIAR. Now, Sir John Eltham, what is't you would say?
LIT. JOHN. Methinks, I see no jests of Robin Hood,
No merry morrices of Friar Tuck,
No pleasant skippings up and down the wood,
No hunting-songs, no coursing of the buck.
Pray God this play of ours may have good luck,
And the king's majesty mislike it not.
FRIAR. And if he do, what can we do to that?
I promis'd him a play of Robin Hood,
His honourable life in merry Sherwood.
His majesty himself survey'd the plot,
And bad me boldly write it; it was good.
For merry jests they have been shown before,
As how the friar fell into the well
For love of Jenny, that fair bonny belle;
How Greenleaf robb'd the Shrieve of Nottingham,
And other mirthful matter full of game.[230]
Our play expresses noble Robert's wrong;
His mild forgetting treacherous injury:
The abbot's malice, rak'd in cinders long,
Breaks out at last with Robin's tragedy.
If these, that hear the history rehears'd,
Condemn my play, when it begins to spring,
I'll let it wither, while it is a bud,
And never show the flower to the king.
LIT. JOHN. One thing beside: you fall into your vein
Of ribble-rabble rhymes Skeltonical,
So oft, and stand so long, that you offend.
FRIAR. It is a fault I hardly can amend.
O, how I champ my tongue to talk these terms!
I do forget ofttimes my friar's part;
But pull me by the sleeve when I exceed,
And you shall see me mend that fault indeed.
Wherefore, still sit you,
Doth Skelton entreat you
While he _facete_
Will briefly repeat ye
The history all
And tale tragical,
By whose treachery
And base injury
Robin the good,
Call'd Robin Hood,
Died in Sherwood.
Which till you see,
Be ruled by me:
Sit patiently,
And give a plaudite,
If anything please ye.
[_Exeunt_.
ACT V., SCENE 1.
_Enter_ WARMAN.
WAR. Banish'd from all, of all I am bereft!
No more than what I wear unto me left.
O wretched, wretched grief, desertful fall!
Striving to get all, I am reft of all.
Yet if I could awhile myself relieve,
Till Ely be in some place settled,
A double restitution should I get,
And these sharp sorrows, that have joy suppress'd,
Should turn to joy with double interest.
_Enter a_ GENTLEMAN, _Warman's Cousin_.
And in good time, here comes my cousin Warman,
Whom I have often pleasur'd in my time.
His house at Bingham I bestow'd on him,
And therefore doubt not, he will give me house-room.
Good even, cousin.
COU. O cousin Warman, what good news with you?
WAR. Whither so far a-foot walk you in Sherwood?
COU. I came from Rotherham; and by hither Farnsfield
My horse did tire, and I walk'd home a-foot.
WAR. I do beseech you, cousin, at some friend's,
Or at your own house, for a week or two
Give me some succour.
COU. Ha! succour, say you? No, sir:
I heard at Mansfield how the matter stands;
How you have justly lost your goods and lands,
And that the prince's indignation
Will fall on any that relieves your state.
Away from me! your treacheries I hate.
You, when your noble master was undone,
(That honourable-minded Huntington),
Who forwarder than you all to distrain?
And, as a wolf that chaseth on the plain
The harmless hind, so wolf-like you pursued
Him and his servants. Vile ingratitude,
Damn'd Judasism,[231] false wrong, abhorred treachery,
Impious wickedness, wicked impiety!
Out, out upon thee! foh, I spit at thee!
WAR. Good cousin.
COU. Away! I'll spurn thee if thou follow me.
[_Exit_.
WAR. O just heaven, how thou plagu'st iniquity!
All that he has my hand on him bestowed.
My master gave me all I ever owed,
My master I abus'd in his distress;
In mine my kinsman leaves me comfortless.
_Enter_ JAILER _of Nottingham, leading a dog_.
Here comes another; one that yesterday
Was at my service, came when I did call,
And him I made jailer of Nottingham.
Perchance some pity dwells within the man;
Jailer, well met; dost thou not know me, man?
JAI. Yes, thou art Warman; every knave knows thee.
WAR. Thou know'st I was thy master yesterday.
JAI. Ay, but 'tis not as it was: farewell; go by.
WAR. Good George, relieve my bitter misery.
JAI. By this flesh and blood, I will not.
No, if I do, the devil take me quick.
I have no money, beggar: balk the way!
WAR. I do not ask thee money.
JAI. Wouldst ha' meat?
WAR. Would God I had a little bread to eat.
JAI. Soft, let me feel my bag. O, here is meat,
That I put up at Retford for my dog:
I care not greatly if I give thee[232] this.
WAR. I prythee, do.
JAI.[233] Yet let me search my conscience for it first:
My dog's my servant, faithful, trusty, true;
But Warman was a traitor to his lord,
A reprobate, a rascal and a Jew,
Worser than dogs, of men to be abhorr'd!
Starve, therefore, Warman; dog, receive thy due.
Follow me not, lest I belabour you,
You half-fac'd groat, you thick-cheek'd chittyface;
You Judas-villain! you that have undone
The honourable Robert Earl of Huntington. [_Exit_.
WAR. Worse than a dog the villain me respects,
His dog he feeds, me in my need rejects.
What shall I do? yonder I see a shed,
A little cottage, where a woman dwells,
Whose husband I from death delivered:
If she deny me, then I faint and die.
Ho! goodwife Thompson!
WOM. What a noise is there?
A foul shame on ye! is it you that knock'd?
WAR. What, do you know me then?
WOM. Whoop! who knows not you?
The beggar'd, banish'd Shrieve of Nottingham,
You that betray'd your master: is't not you?
Yes, a shame on you! and forsooth ye come,
To have some succour here, because you sav'd
My unthrift husband from the gallow-tree.
A pox upon you both! would both for me
Were hang'd together. But soft, let me see;
The man looks faint: feel'st thou indeed distress?
WAR. O, do not mock me in my heaviness.
WOM. Indeed, I do not. Well, I have within
A caudle made, I will go fetch it him. [_Exit_.
WAR. O blessed woman! comfortable word!
Be quiet, entrails, you shall be reliev'd.
_Enter_ WOMAN.[234]
WOM. Here, Warman, put this hempen caudle o'er thy head.
See downward yonder is thy master's walk;
And like a Judas, on some rotten tree,
Hang up this rotten trunk of misery,
That goers-by thy wretched end may see.
Stirr'st thou not, villain? get thee from my door;
A plague upon thee, haste and hang thyself.
Run, rogue, away! 'tis thou that hast undone
Thy noble master, Earl of Huntington.
[_Exit_.
WAR. Good counsel and good comfort, by my faith.
Three doctors are of one opinion,
That Warman must make speed to hang himself.
The last hath given a caudle comfortable,
That to recure my griefs is strong and able:
I'll take her medicine, and I'll choose this way,
Wherein, she saith, my master hath his walk;
There will I offer life for treachery,
And hang, a wonder to all goers-by.
But soft! what sound harmonious is this?
What birds are these, that sing so cheerfully,
As if they did salute the flowering spring?
Fitter it were with tunes more dolefully
They shriek'd out sorrow, than thus cheerly sing.
I will go seek sad desperation's cell;
This is not it, for here are green-leav'd trees.
Ah, for one winter-bitten bared bough,
Whereon a wretched life a wretch would lese.
O, here is one! Thrice-blessed be this tree,
If a man cursed may a blessing give.
_Enter_ OLD FITZWATER.
But out, alas! yonder comes one to me
To hinder death, when I detest to live.
FITZ. What woful voice hear I within this wood?
What wretch is there complains of wretchedness?
WAR. A man, old man, bereav'd of all earth's good,
And desperately seeks death in this distress.
FITZ. Seek not for that which will be here too soon,
At least, if thou be guilty of ill-deeds.
Where art thou, son? come, and nearer sit:
Hear wholesome counsel 'gainst unhallow'd thoughts.
WAR. The man is blind. Muffle the eye of day,
Ye gloomy clouds (and darker than my deeds,
That darker be than pitchy sable night)
Muster together on these high-topp'd trees,
That not a spark of light thorough their sprays
May hinder what I mean to execute.
FITZ. What dost thou mutter? Hear me woful man.
_Enter_ MARIAN _with meat_.
MAR. Good morrow, father.
FITZ. Welcome, lovely maid;
And in good time, I trust, you hither come.
Look if you see not a distressful man,
That to himself intendeth violence:
One such even now was here, and is not far.
Seek, I beseech you; save him, if you may.
MAR. Alas! here is, here is a man enrag'd,
Fastening a halter on a wither'd bough,
And stares upon me with such frighted looks,
As I am fearful of his sharp aspect.
FITZ. What mean'st thou, wretch? say, what is't thou wilt do?
WAR. As Judas did, so I intend to do,
For I have done already as he did:
His master he betray'd, so I have mine.
Fair mistress, look not on me with your blessed eyne:
From them, as from some excellence divine,
Sparkles sharp judgment, and commands with speed.
Fair, fare you well: foul fortune is my fate;
As all betrayers, I die desperate.
FITZ. Soft, ho! Go, Marian, call in Robin Hood:
'Tis Warman, woman, that was once his steward.
MAR. Alas! although it be, yet save his life!
I will send help unto you presently. [_Exit_.
FITZ. Nay, Warman, stay; thou shalt have thy will.
WAR. Art thou a blind man, and canst see my shame?
To hinder treachers God restoreth sight,
And giveth infants tongues to cry aloud
A woful woe against the treacherous.
_Enter_ MUCH, _running_.
MUCH. Hold, hold, hold! I hear say my fellow Warman is about to hang
himself, and make I some speed to save him a labour. O good master,
Justice Shrieve, have you execution in hand, and is there such a
murrain among thieves and hangmen, that you play two parts in one? For
old acquaintance, I will play one part. The knot under the ear, the
knitting to the tree: Good Master Warman, leave that work for me.
WAR. Despatch me, Much, and I will pray for thee.
MUCH. Nay, keep your prayers, nobody sees us.
[_He takes the rope, and offers to climb_.
FITZ. Down, sirrah, down! whither, a knave's name, climb you?
MUCH. A plague on ye for a blind sinksanker![235] would I were your
match. You are much blind, i'faith, can hit so right.
_Enter_ LITTLE JOHN.
LIT. JOHN. What, Master Warman, are ye come to yield
A true account for your false stewardship?
_Enter_ SCARLET _and_ SCATHLOCK.
SCATH. Much, if thou mean'st to get a hundred pound,
Present us to the Shrieve of Nottingham.
MUCH. Mass, I think there was such proclamation.
Come, my small fellow John,
You shall have half, and therefore bring in one.
LIT. JOHN. No, my big fellow, honest Master Much,
Take all unto yourself: I'll be no half.
MUCH. Then stand: you shall be the two thieves, and I'll be the
presenter.
O Master Shrieve of Nottingham,
When ears unto my tidings came,[236]
(I'll speak in prose, I miss this verse vilely) that Scathlock and
Scarlet were arrested by Robin Hood, my master, and Little John, my
fellow, and Much, his servant, and taken from you, Master Shrieve,
being well forward in the hanging way, wherein ye now are (and God keep
ye in the same), and also that you, Master Shrieve, would give any man
in town, city, or country a hundred pound of lawful arrant[237] money
of England, that would bring the same two thieves, being these two; now
I, the said Much, challenge of you the said Shrieve, bringing them, the
same money.
SCAR. Faith, he cannot pay thee, Much.
MUCH. Ay, but while this end is in my hand, and that about his neck,
he is bound to it.
_Enter_ ROBIN, ELY, MARIAN.
WAR. Mock on, mock on: make me your jesting game.
I do deserve much more than this small shame.
ROB. H. Disconsolate and poor dejected man,
Cast from thy neck that shameful sign of death,
And live for me, if thou amend thy life,
As much in favour as thou ever didst.