She hid this sister, told me she was dead —
I have wasted pity on her — not dead now —
No! acting, playing on me, both of them.
They drag the river for her! no, not they!
Playing on me — not dead now — a swoon — a scene —
Yet — how she made her wail as for the dead!
Enter MILLY.
MILLY.
Pleäse, Mister ‘Arold.
HAROLD (roughly).
Well?
MILLY.
The owd man’s coom’d ageän to ‘issen, an’ wants
To hev a word wi’ ye about the marriage.
HAROLD.
The what?
MILLY.
The marriage.
HAROLD.
The marriage?
MILLY.
Yeäs, the marriage.
Granny says marriages be maäde i’ ‘eaven.
HAROLD.
She lies! They are made in Hell. Child, can’t you see?
Tell them to fly for a doctor.
MILLY.
O law — yeäs, Sir!
I’ll run fur ‘im mysen. [Exit.
HAROLD.
All silent there,
Yes, deathlike! Dead? I dare not look: if dead,
Were it best to steal away, to spare myself,
And her too, pain, pain, pain?
My curse on all
This world of mud, on all its idiot gleams
Of pleasure, all the foul fatalities
That blast our natural passions into pains!
Enter DOBSON.
DOBSON.
You, Master Hedgar, Harold, or whativer
They calls ye, for I warrants that ye goäs
By haäfe a scoor o’ naämes — out o’ the chaumber.
[Dragging him past the body.
HAROLD.
Not that way, man! Curse on your brutal strength!
I cannot pass that way.
DOBSON.
Out o’ the chaumber!
I’ll mash tha into nowt.
HAROLD.
The mere wild-beast!
DOBSON.
Out o’ the chaumber, dang tha!
HAROLD.
Lout, churl, clown!
[While they are shouting and struggling DORA rises and comes between them.
DORA (to DOBSON).
Peace, let him be: it is the chamber of Death!
Sir, you are tenfold more a gentleman,
A hundred times more worth a woman’s love,
Than this, this — but I waste no words upon him:
His wickedness is like my wretchedness —
Beyond all language.
(To HAROLD.)
You — you see her there!
Only fifteen when first you came on her,
And then the sweetest flower of all the wolds,
So lovely in the promise of her May,
So winsome in her grace and gaiety,
So loved by all the village people here,
So happy in herself and in her home —
DOBSON (agitated).
Theer, theer! ha’ done. I can’t abeär to see her.
[Exit.
DORA.
A child, and all as trustful as a child!
Five years of shame and suffering broke the heart
That only beat for you; and he, the father,
Thro’ that dishonour which you brought upon us,
Has lost his health, his eyesight, even his mind.
HAROLD (covering his face).
Enough!
DORA.
It seem’d so; only there was left
A second daughter, and to her you came
Veiling one sin to act another.
HAROLD.
No!
You wrong me there! hear, hear me! I wish’d, if you —— [Pauses.
DORA.
If I ——
HAROLD.
Could love me, could be brought to love me
As I loved you —
DORA.
What then?
HAROLD.
I wish’d, I hoped
To make, to make ——
DORA.
What did you hope to make?
HAROLD.
‘Twere best to make an end of my lost life.
O Dora, Dora!
DORA.
What did you hope to make?
HAROLD.
Make, make! I cannot find the word — forgive it —
Amends.
DORA.
For what? to whom?
HAROLD.
To him, to you!
[Falling at her feet.
DORA.
To him! to me!
No, not with all your wealth,
Your land, your life! Out in the fiercest storm
That ever made earth tremble — he, nor I —
The shelter of your roof — not for one moment —
Nothing from you!
Sunk in the deepest pit of pauperism,
Push’d from all doors as if we bore the plague,
Smitten with fever in the open field,
Laid famine-stricken at the gates of Death —
Nothing from you!
But she there — her last word
Forgave — and I forgive you. If you ever
Forgive yourself, you are even lower and baser
Than even I can well believe you. Go!
[He lies at her feet. Curtain falls.
THE FORESTERS: ROBIN HOOD AND MAID MARIAN
Tennyson’s final drama was produced in New York in 1892, featuring incidental music in nine movements composed by Arthur Sullivan. The success of the performance led to productions in seven other American cities and a new production opened in London in 1893. Although the play was not well received in England, Sullivan’s incidental music was praised. Sullivan and Tennyson had worked together before, on a song cycle for tenor, The Window, written and composed in 1867–68, but not published until 1871. They had not found working together congenial and did not attempt to do so again for over twenty years.
In the mean time, Tennyson had written The Cup, which was produced with success by Henry Irving at the Lyceum Theatre in 1881. Encouraged by this, Tennyson started work on a play based on the Robin Hood legend, completing it after a visit to Sherwood Forest in October 1881. But Irving rejected the play on the grounds that it was not dramatic enough for his audiences at the Lyceum, who were accustomed to more sensational productions. Tennyson turned to other projects, setting The Foresters aside for several years. In 1888, American actress Mary Anderson decided to produce The Cup and Tennyson suggested that she should also produce The Foresters, but again the play was set aside. However, in 1891 Anderson’s brother, Joseph wrote to the American impresario Augustin Daly recommending that The Foresters would be a good project for him and his star actress Ada Rehan. Daly was enthusiastic about the play and, by September 1891 they arranged a New York production. By this time Tennyson was 82 years old.
Formed of blank verse and prose, the play contains songs and dances which Daly, at Tennyson’s suggestion, approached Sullivan to compose. Daly made numerous changes to Tennyson’s text, cutting dialogue, moving events from one act to another and re-assigning songs and dialogue to different characters. Sullivan completed the score by December 1891 and the play opened in New York on 17 March 1892. The piece starred Rehan as Marian and John Drew Jr. as Robin. It was an instant hit, becoming Tennyson’s greatest theatrical success. By the time that an English production opened at the new Daly’s Theatre, in London, on 3 October 1893, the author had died.
Sir Arthur Seymour Sullivan (1842–1900) was an English composer, best known for his series of 14 operatic collaborations with the dramatist W. S. Gilbert, including such popular works as H.M.S. Pinafore, The Pirates of Penzance and The Mikado.
John Drew, Jr. (1853–1927) was an American stage actor noted for his roles in Shakespearean comedy, society d
rama and light comedies. He also played the lead role of Robin Hood in the first production of ‘The Foresters’.
CONTENTS
Dramatis Personæ
Act I
Scene I - The Bond
Scene II - The Outlawry
Scenes II, III, The Outlawry
Scene III - The Outlawry
Act II
Scene I - The Flight of Marian.
Scene II - Another Glade in the Forest.
Act III
Scene I - The Crowning of Marian.
Act IV
Scene I - The Conclusion.
The programme for the 1893production
Dramatis Personæ
ROBIN HOOD, Earl of Huntingdon.
KING RICHARD, Coeur de Lion.
PRINCE JOHN.
Followers of Robin Hood:
LITTLE JOHN,
WILL SCARLET,
FRIAR TUCK,
MUCH,
A JUSTICIARY.
SHERIFF OF NOTTINGHAM.
ABBOT OF St. MARY’S.
WALTER LEA, son of Sir Richard Lea.
MAID MARIAN, daughter of Sir Richard Lea.
KATE, attendant on Marian.
OLD WOMAN.
Retainers, Messengers, Merry Men, Mercenaries, Friars, Beggars, Sailors, Peasants (men and women), &c.
Act I
Scene I - The Bond
SCENE I. — The garden before SIR RICHARD LEA’S castle.
KATE (gathering flowers).
These roses for my Lady Marian; these lilies to lighten Sir Richard’s black room, where he sits and eats his heart for want of money to pay the abbot.
[Sings.
The warrior Earl of Allendale,
He loved the Lady Anne;
The lady loved the master well,
The maid she loved the man.
All in the castle garden,
Or ever the day began,
The lady gave a rose to the earl,
The maid a rose to the man.
‘I go to fight in Scotland
With many a savage clan;’
The lady gave her hand to the earl,
The maid her hand to the man.
‘Farewell, farewell, my warrior earl!’
And ever a tear down ran.
She gave a weeping kiss to the earl,
And the maid a kiss to the man.
Enter four ragged RETAINERS.
FIRST RETAINER.
You do well, Mistress Kate, to sing and to gather roses. You be fed with tit-bits, you, and we be dogs that have only the bones, till we be only bones our own selves.
SECOND RETAINER.
I am fed with tit-bits no more than you are, but I keep a good heart and make the most of it; and, truth to say, Sir Richard and my Lady Marian fare wellnigh as sparely as their people.
THIRD RETAINER.
And look at our suits, out at knee, out at elbow. We be more like scarecrows in a field than decent servingmen; and then, I pray you, look at Robin Earl of Huntingdon’s men.
FIRST RETAINER.
She hath looked well at one of ‘em, Little John.
THIRD RETAINER.
Ay, how fine they be in their liveries, and each of ‘em as full of meat as an egg, and as sleek and as round-about as a mellow codlin.
FOURTH RETAINER.
But I be worse off than any of you, for I be lean by nature, and if you cram me crop-full I be little better than Famine in the picture, but if you starve me I be Gaffer Death himself. I would like to show you, Mistress Kate, how bare and spare I be on the rib: I be lanker than an old horse turned out to die on the common.
KATE.
Spare me thy spare ribs, I pray thee; but now I ask you all, did none of you love young Walter Lea?
FIRST RETAINER.
Ay, if he had not gone to fight the King’s battles, we should have better battles at home.
KATE.
Right as an Oxford scholar, but the boy was taken prisoner by the Moors.
FIRST RETAINER.
Ay.
KATE.
And Sir Richard was told he might be ransomed for two thousand marks in gold.
FIRST RETAINER.
Ay.
KATE.
Then he borrowed the moneys from the Abbot of York, the Sheriff’s brother. And if they be not paid back at the end of the year, the land goes to the abbot.
FIRST RETAINER.
No news of young Walter?
KATE.
None, nor of the gold, nor the man who took out the gold; but now ye know why we live so stintedly, and why ye have so few grains to peck at. Sir Richard must scrape and scrape till he get to the land again. Come, come, why do ye loiter here? Carry fresh rushes into the dining-hall, for those that are there they be so greasy and smell so vilely that my Lady Marian holds her nose when she steps across it.
FOURTH RETAINER.
Why there, now! that very word ‘greasy’ hath a kind of unction in it, a smack of relish about it. The rats have gnawed ‘em already. I pray Heaven we may not have to take to the rushes.
[Exeunt.
KATE.
Poor fellows!
The lady gave her hand to the earl,
The maid her hand to the man.
Enter LITTLE JOHN
LITTLE JOHN.
My master, Robin the Earl, is always a-telling us that every man, for the sake of the great blessed Mother in heaven, and for the love of his own little mother on earth, should handle all womankind gently, and hold them in all honour, and speak small to ‘em, and not scare ‘em, but go about to come at their love with all manner of homages, and observances, and circumbendibuses.
KATE.
The lady gave a rose to the earl,
The maid a rose to the man.
LITTLE JOHN (seeing her).
O the sacred little thing! What a shape! what lovely arms! A rose to the man! Ay, the man had given her a rose, and she gave him another.
KATE.
Shall I keep one little rose for Little John? No.
LITTLE JOHN.
There, there! You see I was right. She hath a tenderness toward me, but is too shy to show it. It is in her, in the woman, and the man must bring it out of her.
KATE.
She gave a weeping kiss to the earl,
The maid a kiss to the man.
LITTLE JOHN.
Did she? But there I am sure the ballad is at fault. It should have told us how the man first kissed the maid. She does n’t see me. Shall I be bold? shall I touch her? shall I give her the first kiss? O sweet Kate, my first love, the first kiss, the first kiss!
KATE (turns and kisses him).
Why lookest thou so amazed?
LITTLE JOHN.
I cannot tell; but I came to give thee the first kiss, and thou hast given it me.
KATE.
But if a man and a maid care for one another, does it matter so much if the maid give the first kiss?
LITTLE JOHN.
I cannot tell, but I had sooner have given thee the first kiss. I was dreaming of it all the way hither.
KATE.
Dream of it, then, all the way back, for now I will have none of it.
LITTLE JOHN.
Nay, now thou hast given me the man’s kiss, let me give thee the maid’s.
KATE.
If thou draw one inch nearer, I will give thee a buffet on the face.
LITTLE JOHN.
Wilt thou not give me rather the little rose for Little John?
KATE (throws it down and tramples on it).
There!
[Kate, seeing MARIAN, exit hurriedly.
Enter MARIAN (singing).
Love flew in at the window,
As Wealth walk’d in at the door.
‘You have come for you saw Wealth coming,’ said I.
But he flutter’d his wings with a sweet little cry,
‘I’ll cleave to you rich or poor.’
Wealth dropt out of the window,
&nbs
p; Poverty crept thro’ the door.
‘Well, now you would fain follow Wealth,’ said I,
But he flutter’d his wings as he gave me the lie,
‘I cling to you all the more.’
LITTLE JOHN.
Thanks, my lady — inasmuch as I am a true believer in true love myself, and your ladyship hath sung the old proverb out of fashion.
MARIAN.
Ay, but thou hast ruffled my woman, Little John. She hath the fire in her face and the dew in her eyes. I believed thee to be too solemn and formal to be a ruffler. Out upon thee!
LITTLE JOHN.
I am no ruffler, my lady; but I pray you, my lady, if a man and a maid love one another, may the maid give the first kiss?
MARIAN.
It will be all the more gracious of her if she do.
LITTLE JOHN.
I cannot tell. Manners be so corrupt, and these are the days of Prince John.
[Exit.
Enter SIR RICHARD LEA (reading a bond).
SIR RICHARD.
Marian!
MARIAN.
Father!
SIR RICHARD.
Who parted from thee even now?
MARIAN.
That strange starched stiff creature, Little John, the earl’s man. He would grapple with a lion like the King, and is flustered by a girl’s kiss.
SIR RICHARD.
There never was an earl so true a friend of the people as Lord Robin of Huntingdon.
MARIAN.
A gallant earl. I love him as I hate John.
SIR RICHARD.
I fear me he hath wasted his revenues in the service of our good King Richard against the party of John, as I have done, as I have done: and where is Richard?
MARIAN.
Cleave to him, father! he will come home at last.
SIR RICHARD.
I trust he will, but if he do not I and thou are but beggars.
MARIAN.
We will be beggar’d then, and be true to the King.
SIR RICHARD.
Thou speakest like a fool or a woman. Canst thou endure to be a beggar whose whole life hath been folded like a blossom in the sheath, like a careless sleeper in the down; who never hast felt a want, to whom all things, up to this present, have come as freely as heaven’s air and mother’s milk?
MARIAN.
Tut, father! I am none of your delicate Norman maidens who can only broider and mayhap ride a-hawking with the help of the men. I can bake and I can brew, and by all the saints I can shoot almost as closely with the bow as the great earl himself. I have played at the foils too with Kate: but is not to-day his birthday?
SIR RICHARD.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson - Delphi Poets Series Page 177