Alfred, Lord Tennyson - Delphi Poets Series
Page 180
SHERIFF.
Ay, but the cow?
ROBIN.
She was given me.
SHERIFF.
By whom?
ROBIN.
By a thief.
SHERIFF.
Who, woman, who?
ROBIN (sings).
He was a forester good;
He was the cock o’ the walk;
He was the king o’ the wood.
Your worship may find another rhyme if you care to drag your brains for such a minnow.
SHERIFF.
That cow was mine. I have lost a cow from my meadow. Robin Hood was it? I thought as much. He will come to the gibbet at last.
[OLD WOMAN yells.
MERCENARY.
O sweet sir, talk not of cows. You anger the spirit.
PRINCE JOHN.
Anger the scritch-owl.
MERCENARY.
But, my lord, the scritch-owl bodes death, my lord.
ROBIN.
I beseech you all to speak lower. Robin may be hard by wi’ three-score of his men. He often looks in here by the moonshine. Beware of Robin.
[OLD WOMAN yells.
MERCENARY.
Ah, do you hear? There may be murder done.
SHERIFF.
Have you not finished, my lord?
ROBIN.
Thou hast crost him in love, and I have heard him swear he will be even wi’ thee.
[OLD WOMAN yells.
MERCENARY.
Now is my heart so down in my heels that if I stay I can’t run.
SHERIFF.
Shall we not go?
ROBIN.
And, old hag tho’ I be, I can spell the hand. Give me thine. Ay, ay, the line o’ life is marked enow; but look, there is a cross line o’ sudden death. I pray thee go, go, for tho’ thou wouldst bar me fro’ the milk o’ my cow, I would n’t have thy blood on my hearth.
PRINCE JOHN.
Why do you listen, man, to the old fool?
SHERIFF.
I will give thee a silver penny if thou wilt show us the way back to Nottingham.
ROBIN (with a very low curtsey).
All the sweet Saints bless your worship for your alms to the old woman! but make haste then, and be silent in the wood. Follow me.
[Takes his bow.
(They come out of the hut and close the door carefully.)
Outside hut..
ROBIN.
Softly! softly! there may be a thief in every bush.
PRINCE JOHN.
How should this old lamester guide us? Where is thy goodman?
ROBIN.
The Saints were so kind to both on us that he was dead before he was born.
PRINCE JOHN.
Half-witted and a witch to boot! Mislead us, and I will have thy life! and what doest thou with that, who art more bow-bent than the very bow thou carriest?
ROBIN.
I keep it to kill nightingales.
PRINCE JOHN.
Nightingales!
ROBIN.
You see, they are so fond o’ their own voices that I cannot sleep o’ nights by cause on ‘em.
PRINCE JOHN.
True soul of the Saxon churl for whom song has no charm.
ROBIN.
Then I roast ‘em, for I have naught else to live on (whines). O your honour, I pray you too to give me an alms. (To PRINCE JOHN.)
SHERIFF.
This is no bow to hit nightingales; this is a true woodman’s bow of the best yew-wood to slay the deer. Look, my lord, there goes one in the moonlight. Shoot!
PRINCE JOHN (shoots).
Missed! There goes another. Shoot, sheriff!
SHERIFF (shoots).
Missed!
ROBIN.
And here comes another. Why, an old woman can shoot closer than you two.
PRINCE JOHN.
Shoot then, and if thou miss I will fasten thee to thine own doorpost and make thine old carcase a target for us three.
ROBIN. (raises himself upright, shoots, and hits.)
Hit! Did I not tell you an old woman could shoot better?
PRINCE JOHN.
Thou standest straight. Thou speakest manlike. Thou art no old woman — thou art disguised — thou art one of the thieves.
[Makes a clutch at the gown, which comes in pieces and falls, showing Robin in his forester’s dress.
SHERIFF.
It is the very captain of the thieves!
PRINCE JOHN.
We have him at last; we have him at advantage. Strike, sheriff! Strike, mercenary!
[They draw swords and attack him; he defends himself with his.
Enter LITTLE JOHN.
LITTLE JOHN.
I have lodged my pretty Katekin in her bower.
How now? Clashing of swords — three upon one, and that one our Robin! Rogues, have you no manhood?
[Draws and defends ROBIN.
Enter SIR RICHARD LEA (draws his sword).
SIR RICHARD LEA.
Old as I am, I will not brook to see
Three upon two.
(MAID MARIAN in the armour of a Red-cross Knight follows, half unsheathing her sword and half seen.
Back! back! I charge thee, back! Is this a game for thee to play at? Away!
(She retires to the fringe of the copse.)
[He fights on Robin’s side. The other three are beaten off and exeunt.
Enter FRIAR TUCK.
FRIAR TUCK.
I am too late then with my quarterstaff?
ROBIN.
Quick, friar, follow them!
See whether there be more of ‘em in the wood.
FRIAR TUCK.
On the gallop, on the gallop, Robin, like a deer from a dog, or a colt from a gadfly, or a stump-tailed ox in May-time, or the cow that jumped over the moon.
[Exit.
ROBIN.
Nay, nay, but softly, lest they spy thee, friar!
[To Sir Richard Lea who reels.
Take thou mine arm. Who art thou, gallant knight?
SIR RICHARD.
Robin, I am Sir Richard of the Lea.
Who be those three that I have fought withal?
ROBIN.
Prince John, the sheriff, and a mercenary.
SIR RICHARD.
Prince John again! We are flying from this John.
The sheriff — I am grieved it was the sheriff;
For, Robin, he must be my son-in-law.
Thou art an outlaw, and couldst never pay
The mortgage on my land. Thou wilt not see
My Marian more. So — so — I have presumed
Beyond my strength. Give me a draught of wine.
[MARIAN comes forward.
This is my son but late escaped from prison,
For whom I ran into my debt to the abbot,
Two thousand marks in gold. I have paid him half.
That other thousand — shall I ever pay it?
A draught of wine.
ROBIN.
Our cellar is hard by.
Take him, good Little John, and give him wine.
[Exit Sir Richard leaning on Little John.
A brave old fellow, but he angers me.
[To MAID MARIAN who is following her father.
Young Walter, nay, I pray thee, stay a moment.
MARIAN.
A moment for some matter of no moment!
Well — take and use your moment, while you may.
ROBIN.
Thou art her brother, and her voice is thine,
Her face is thine, and if thou be as gentle
Give me some news of my sweet Marian.
Where is she?
MARIAN.
Thy sweet Marian? I believe
She came with me into the forest here.
ROBIN.
She follow’d thee into the forest here?
MARIAN.
Nay — that, my friend, I am sure I did not say.
ROBIN.
Thou blow
est hot and cold. Where is she then?
MARIAN.
Is she not here with thee?
ROBIN.
Would God she were!
MARIAN.
If not with thee I know not where she is.
She may have lighted on your fairies here,
And now be skipping in their fairy-rings,
And capering hand in hand with Oberon.
ROBIN. Peace!
MARIAN.
Or learning withcraft of your woodland witch,
And how to charm and waste the hearts of men.
ROBIN.
That is not brother-like.
MARIAN (pointing to the sky).
Or there perchance
Up yonder with the man i’ the moon.
ROBIN.
No more!
MARIAN.
Or haply fallen victim to the wolf.
ROBIN.
Tut! be there wolves in Sherwood?
MARIAN.
The wolf, John!
ROBIN.
Curse him! but thou art mocking me. Thou art
Her brother — I forgive thee. Come, be thou
My brother too. She loves me.
MARIAN.
Doth she so?
ROBIN.
Do you doubt me when I say she loves me, man?
MARIAN.
No, but my father will not lose his land;
Rather than that would wed her with the sheriff.
ROBIN.
Thou hold’st with him?
MARIAN.
Yes, in some sort I do.
He is old and almost mad to keep the land.
ROBIN.
Thou hold’st with him?
MARIAN.
I tell thee, in some sort.
ROBIN (angrily).
Sort! sort! what sort? what sort of man art thou
For land, not love? Thou wilt inherit the land,
And so wouldst sell thy sister to the sheriff,
O thou unworthy brother of my dear Marian!
And, now I do bethink me, thou wast by
And never drewest sword to help the old man
When he was fighting.
MARIAN.
There were three to three.
ROBIN.
Thou shouldst have ta’en his place, and fought for him.
MARIAN.
He did it so well there was no call for me.
ROBIN.
My God!
That such a brother — she marry the sheriff!
Come now, I fain would have a bout with thee.
It is but pastime — nay, I will not harm thee.
Draw!
MARIAN.
Earl, I would fight with any man but thee.
ROBIN.
Ay, ay, because I have a name for prowess.
MARIAN.
It is not that.
ROBIN.
That! I believe thou fell’st into the hands
Of these same Moors thro’ nature’s baseness, criedst
‘I yield’ almost before the thing was ask’d,
And thro’ thy lack of manhood hast betray’d
Thy father to the losing of his land.
Come, boy! ‘tis but to see if thou canst fence.
Draw!
[Draws.
MARIAN.
No, Sir Earl, I will not fight to-day.
ROBIN.
To-morrow then?
MARIAN.
Well, I will fight to-morrow.
ROBIN.
Give me thy glove upon it.
MARIAN (pulls off her glove and gives it to him). There!
ROBIN. O God!
What sparkles in the moonlight on thy hand?
[Takes her hand.
In that great heat to wed her to the sheriff
Thou hast robb’d my girl of her betrothal ring.
MARIAN.
No, no!
ROBIN.
What! do I not know mine own ring?
MARIAN.
I keep it for her.
ROBIN.
Nay, she swore it never
Should leave her finger. Give it me, by heaven,
Or I will force it from thee.
MARIAN. O Robin, Robin!
ROBIN.
O my dear Marian,
Is it thou? is it thou? I fall before thee, clasp
Thy knees. I am ashamed. Thou shalt not marry
The sheriff, but abide with me who love thee.
[She moves from him, the moonlight falls upon her.
O, look! before the shadow of these dark oaks
Thou seems’t a saintly splendour out from heaven,
Clothed with the mystic silver of her moon.
Speak but one word, not only of forgiveness,
But to show thou art mortal.
MARIAN.
Mortal enough,
If love for thee be mortal. Lovers hold
True love immortal. Robin, tho’ I love thee,
We cannot come together in this world.
Not mortal! after death, if after death ——
ROBIN.
Life, life! I know not death. Why do you vex me
With raven-croaks of death and after death?
MARIAN.
And I and he are passing overseas:
He has a friend there will advance the moneys;
So now the forest lawns are all as bright
As ways to heaven, I pray thee give us guides
To lead us thro’ the windings of the wood.
ROBIN.
Must it be so? If it were so, myself
Would guide you thro’ the forest to the sea.
But go not yet, stay with us, and when thy brother —
MARIAN.
Robin, I ever held that saying false
That Love is blind, but thou hast proven it true.
Why — even your woodland squirrel sees the nut
Behind the shell, and thee however mask’d
I should have known. But thou — to dream that he
My brother, my dear Walter — now, perhaps,
Fetter’d and lash’d, a galley-slave, or closed
For ever in a Moorish tower, or wreckt
And dead beneath the midland ocean, he
As gentle as he’s brave — that such as he
Would wrest from me the precious ring I promised
Never to part with — No, not he, nor any!
I would have battled for it to the death.
[In her excitment she draws her sword.
See, thou hast wrong’d my brother and myself.
ROBIN (kneeling).
See then, I kneel once more to be forgiven.
Enter SCARLET, MUCH, several of the FORESTERS, rushing on.
SCARLET.
Look! look! he kneels! he has anger’d the foul witch,
Who melts a waxen image by the fire,
And drains the heart and marrow from a man.
MUCH.
Our Robin beaten, pleading for his life!
Seize on the knight! wrench his sword from him!
[They all rush on MARIAN.
ROBIN (springing up and waving his hand).
Back!
Back all of you! this is Maid Marian
Flying from John — disguised.
MEN.
Maid Marian? she?
SCARLET.
Captain, we saw thee cowering to a knight
And thought thou wert bewitch’d.
MARIAN.
You dared to dream
That our great earl, the bravest English heart
Since Hereward the Wake, would cower to any
Of mortal build! Weak natures that impute
Themselves to their unlikes, and their own want
Of manhood to their leader! he would break,
Far as he might, the power of John — but you —
What rightful cause could grow to such a heat
As burns a wrong to ashes, if the followers
Of him who heads the movement held him craven?
Robin — I know not, can I trust myself
With your brave band? in some of these may lodge
That baseness which for fear or moneys, might
Betray me to the wild prince.
ROBIN.
No, love, no!
Not any of these, I swear!
MEN.
No, no, we swear.
Scene II - Another Glade in the Forest.
ROBIN and MARIAN passing. Enter FORESTER.
FORESTER.
Knight, your good father had his draught of wine,
And then he swooned away. He had been hurt,
And bled beneath his armour. Now he cries,
‘The land! the land!’ Come to him.
MARIAN.
O my poor father!
ROBIN.
Stay with us in this wood till he recover.
We know all balms and simples of the field
To help a wound. Stay with us here, sweet love,
Maid Marian, till thou wed what man thou wilt.
All here will prize thee, honour, worship thee,
Crown thee with flowers; and he will soon be well:
All will be well.
MARIAN.
O, lead me to my father!
[As they are going out, enter LITTLE JOHN and KATE, who falls on the neck of MARIAN.
KATE.
No, no, false knight, thou canst not hide thyself
From her who loves thee.
LITTLE JOHN.
What!
By all the devils in and out of hell!
Wilt thou embrace thy sweetheart ‘fore my face?
Quick with my sword! the yeoman braves the knight.
There! (strikes her with the flat of his sword).
MARIAN (laying about her).
Are the men all mad? there then, and there!
KATE.
O, hold thy hand! this is our Marian.
LITTLE JOHN.
What! with this skill of fence! let go mine arm.
ROBIN.
Down with thy sword! she is my queen and thine,
The mistress of the band.
MARIAN (sheathing her sword).
A maiden now
Were ill-bested in these dark days of John,
Except she could defend her innocence.
O, lead me to my father!
[Exeunt Robin and Marian.
LITTLE JOHN.
Speak to me,
I am like a boy now going to be whipt;
I know I have done amiss, have been a fool;
Speak to me, Kate, and say you pardon me!
KATE.
I never will speak word to thee again.
What! to mistrust the girl you say you love
Is to mistrust your own love for your girl!
How should you love if you mistrust your love?
LITTLE JOHN.
O Kate, true love and jealousy are twins,
And love is joyful, innocent, beautiful,
And jealousy is wither’d, sour, and ugly;
Yet are they twins and always go together.
KATE.
Well, well, until they cease to go together,