Alfred, Lord Tennyson - Delphi Poets Series
Page 181
I am but a stone and a dead stock to thee.
LITTLE JOHN.
I thought I saw thee clasp and kiss a man,
And it was but a woman. Pardon me.
KATE.
Ay, for I much disdain thee; but if ever
Thou see me clasp and kiss a man indeed,
I will again be thine, and not till then.
[Exit.
LITTLE JOHN.
I have been a fool, and I have lost my Kate.
[Exit.
Re-enter ROBIN.
ROBIN
He dozes. I have left her watching him.
She will not marry till her father yield.
The old man dotes.
Nay — and she will not marry till Richard come,
And that’s at latter Lammas — never perhaps.
Besides, tho’ Friar Tuck might make us one,
An outlaw’s bride may not be wife in law.
I am weary. [Lying down on a bank.
What’s here? a dead bat in the fairy ring —
Yes, I remember, Scarlet hacking down
A hollow ash, a bat flew out at him
In the clear noon, and hook’d him by the hair,
And he was scared and slew it. My men say
The fairies haunt this glade; — if one could catch
A glimpse of them and of their fairy queen —
Have our loud pastimes driven them all away?
I never saw them; yet I could believe
There came some evil fairy at my birth
And cursed me, as the last heir of my race:
‘This boy will never wed the maid he loves,
Nor leave a child behind him’ (yawns). Weary — weary
As tho’ a spell were on me (he dreams).
[The whole stage lights up, and fairies are seen swinging on boughs and nestling in hollow trunks.
TITANIA on a hill. Fairies on either side of her. The moon above the hill.
FIRST FAIRY.
Evil Fairy! do you hear?
So he said who lieth here.
SECOND FAIRY.
We be fairies of the wood.
We be neither bad nor good.
SECOND FAIRY.
Back and side and hip and rib,
Nip, nip him for his fib.
TITANIA.
Nip him not, but let him snore.
We must flit for evermore.
FIRST FAIRY.
Tit, my queen, must it be so?
Wherefore, wherefore should we go?
TITANIA.
I Titania bid you flit,
And you dare to call me Tit.
FIRST FAIRY.
Tit, for love and brevity,
Not for love of levity.
TITANIA.
Pertest of our flickering mob,
Wouldst thou call my Oberon Ob?
SECOND FAIRY.
Nay, an please your Elfin Grace,
Never Ob before his face.
TITANIA.
Fairy realm is breaking down
When the fairy slights the crown.
SECOND FAIRY.
No, by wisp and glowworm, no!
Only wherefore should we go?
TITANIA.
We must fly from Robin Hood
And this new queen of the wood.
SECOND FAIRY.
True, she is a goodly thing.
Jealousy, jealousy of the king!
TITANIA.
Nay, for Oberon fled away
Twenty thousand leagues to-day.
CHORUS
Look, there comes a deputation
From our finikin fairy nation.
Enter several FAIRIES.
THIRD FAIRY.
Crush’d my bat whereon I flew,
Found him dead and drench’d in dew,
Queen.
FOURTH FAIRY.
Quash’d my frog that used to quack
When I vaulted on his back,
Queen.
FIFTH FAIRY.
Kill’d the sward where’er they sat,
Queen.
SIXTH FAIRY.
Lusty bracken beaten flat,
Queen.
SEVENTH FAIRY.
Honest daisy deadly bruised,
Queen.
EIGHTH FAIRY.
Modest maiden lily abused,
Queen.
NINTH FAIRY.
Beetle’s jewel armour crack’d,
Queen.
TENTH FAIRY.
Reed I rock’d upon broken-back’d,
Queen.
FAIRIES (in chorus).
We be scared with song and shout,
Arrows whistle all about.
All our games be put to rout.
All our rings be trampled out.
Lead us thou to some deep glen,
Far from solid foot of men,
Never to return again,
Queen.
TITANIA (to FIRST FAIRY).
Elf, with spiteful heart and eye,
Talk of jealousy? You see why
We must leave the wood and fly.
(To all the FAIRIES who sing at intervals with TITANIA.)
Up with you, out of the forest and over the hills and away,
And over this Robin Hood’s bay!
Up thro’ the light of the seas by the moon’s long-silvering ray!
To a land where the fay,
Not an eye to survey,
In the night, in the day,
Can have frolic and play.
Up with you, all of you, out of it! hear and obey.
Man, lying here alone,
Moody creature,
Of a nature
Stronger, sadder than my own,
Were I human, were I human,
I could love you like a woman,
Man, man,
You shall wed your Marian,
She is true, and you are true.
And you love her and she loves you;
Both be happy, and adieu for ever and for evermore — adieu!
ROBIN (half waking).
Shall I be happy? Happy vision, stay.
TITANIA.
Up with you, all of you, off with you, out of it, over
the wood and away!
Note. — In the stage copy of my play I have had this Fairy Scene transfered to the end of the Third Act, for the sake of modern dramatic effect.
Act III
Scene I - The Crowning of Marian.
MARIAN and KATE (in Forester’s green).
KATE.
What makes you seem so cold to Robin, lady?
MARIAN.
What makes thee think I seem so cold to Robin?
KATE.
You never whisper close as lovers do,
Nor care to leap into each other’s arms.
MARIAN.
There is a fence I cannot overleap,
My father’s will.
KATE.
Then you will wed the sheriff?
MARIAN.
When heaven falls, I may light on such a lark!
But who art thou to catechize me — thou
That hast not made it up with Little John?
KATE.
I wait till Little John makes up to me.
MARIAN.
Why, my good Robin fancied me a man,
And drew his sword upon me, and Little John
Fancied he saw thee clasp and kiss a man.
KATE.
Well, if he fancied that I fancy a man
Other than him, he is not the man for me.
MARIAN.
And that would quite unman him, heart and soul,
For both are thine.
(Looking up.)
But listen — overhead —
Fluting, and piping, and luting, ‘Love, love, love’ —
Those sweet tree-Cupids half-way up in heaven,
The birds — would I were one of ‘em! O good Kate —
If my man-Robin were but a bird-Robin
,
How happily would we lilt among the leaves,
‘Love, love, love, love’ — what merry madness — listen!
And let them warm thy heart to Little John.
Look where he comes!
KATE.
I will not meet him yet,
I’ll watch him from behind the trees, but call
Kate when you will, for I am close at hand.
KATE stands aside and enter ROBIN, and after him at a little distance LITTLE JOHN, MUCH the miller’s son, and SCARLET with an oaken chaplet, and other FORESTERS.
LITTLE JOHN.
My lord — Robin — I crave pardon — you always seem to me my lord — I Little John, he Much the miller’s son, and he Scarlet, honouring all womankind, and more especially my lady Marian, do here, in the name of all our woodmen, present her with this oaken chaplet as queen of the wood, I Little John, he, young Scarlet, and he, old Much, and all the rest of us.
MUCH.
And I, old Much, say as much, for being every inch a man I honour every inch of a woman.
ROBIN.
Friend Scarlet, art thou less a man than Much? Why art thou mute? Dost thou not honour woman?
SCARLET.
Robin, I do, but I have a bad wife.
ROBIN.
Then let her pass as an exception, Scarlet.
SCARLET.
So I would, Robin, if any man would accept her.
MARIAN (puts on the chaplet).
Had I a bulrush now in this right hand
For sceptre, I were like a queen indeed.
Comrades, I thank you for your loyalty,
And take and wear this symbol of your love;
And, were my kindly father sound again,
Could live as happy as the larks in heaven,
And join your feasts and all your forest games
As far as maiden might. Farewell, good fellows!
[Exeunt several foresters, the others withdraw to the back.
ROBIN.
Sit here by me, where the most beaten track
Runs thro’ the forest, hundreds of huge oaks,
Gnarl’d — older than the thrones of Europe — look,
What breadth, height, strength — torrents of eddying bark!
Some hollow-hearted from exceeding age —
That never be thy lot or mine! — and some
Pillaring a leaf-sky on their monstrous boles,
Sound at the core as we are. Fifty leagues
Of woodland hear and know my horn, that scares
The baron at the torture of his churls,
The pillage of his vassals.
O maiden-wife,
The oppression of our people moves me so
That, when I think of it hotly, Love himself
Seems but a ghost, but when thou feel’st with me
The ghost returns to Marian, clothes itself
In maiden flesh and blood, and looks at once
Maid Marian, and that maiden freedom which
Would never brook the tyrant. Live thou maiden!
Thou art more my wife so feeling, than if my wife
And siding with these proud priests, and these barons,
Devils, that make this blessed England hell.
MARIAN.
Earl ——
ROBIN.
Nay, no earl am I. I am English yeoman.
MARIAN.
Then I am yeo-woman. O the clumsy word!
ROBIN.
Take thou this light kiss for thy clumsy word.
Kiss me again.
MARIAN.
Robin, I will not kiss thee,
For that belongs to marriage; but I hold thee
The husband of my heart, the noblest light
That ever flash’d across my life, and I
Embrace thee with the kisses of the soul.
ROBIN.
I thank thee.
MARIAN.
Scarlet told me — is it true? —
That John last week return’d to Nottingham,
And all the foolish world is pressing thither.
ROBIN.
Sit here, my queen, and judge the world with me.
Doubtless, like judges of another bench,
However wise, we must at times have wrought
Some great injustice, yet, far as we knew,
We never robb’d one friend of the true King.
We robb’d the traitors that are leagued with John;
We robb’d the lawyer who went against the law;
We spared the craftsman, chapman, all that live
By their own hands, the labourer, the poor priest;
We spoil’d the prior, friar, abbot, monk,
For playing upside down with Holy Writ.
‘Sell all thou hast and give it to the poor;’
Take all they have and give it to thyself!
Then after we have eased them of their coins
It is our forest custom they should revel
Along with Robin.
MARIAN.
And if a woman pass ——
ROBIN.
Dear, in these days of Norman license, when
Our English maidens are their prey, if ever
A Norman damsel fell into our hands,
In this dark wood when all was in our power
We never wrong’d a woman.
MARIAN.
Noble Robin.
LITTLE JOHN (coming forward).
Here come three beggars.
Enter the three BEGGARS.
LITTLE JOHN.
Toll!
FIRST BEGGAR.
Eh! we be beggars, we come to ask o’ you. We ha’ nothing.
SECOND BEGGAR.
Rags, nothing but our rags.
THIRD BEGGAR.
I have but one penny in pouch, and so you would make it two I should be grateful.
MARIAN.
Beggars, you are sturdy rogues that should be set to work. You are those that tramp the country, filch the linen from the hawthorn, poison the house-dog, and scare lonely maidens at the farmstead. Search them, Little John.
LITTLE JOHN.
These two have forty gold marks between them, Robin.
ROBIN.
Cast them into our treasury, the beggars’ mites. Part shall go to the almshouses at Nottingham, part to the shrine of our Lady. Search this other.
LITTLE JOHN.
He hath, as he said, but one penny.
ROBIN.
Leave it with him and add a gold mark thereto. He hath spoken truth in a world of lies.
THIRD BEGGAR.
I thank you, my lord.
LITTLE JOHN.
A fine, a fine! he hath called plain Robin a lord. How much for a beggar?
ROBIN.
Take his penny and leave him his gold mark.
LITTLE JOHN.
Sit there, knaves, till the captain call for you.
[They pass behind the trunk of an oak on the right.
MARIAN.
Art thou not hard upon them, my good Robin?
ROBIN.
They might be harder upon thee, if met in a black lane at midnight: the throat might gape before the tongue could cry who?
LITTLE JOHN.
Here comes a citizen, and I think his wife.
Enter CITIZEN and WIFE.
CITIZEN.
That business which we have in Nottingham ——
LITTLE JOHN.
Halt!
CITIZEN.
O dear wife, we have fallen into the hands
Of Robin Hood.
MARIAN.
And Robin Hood hath sworn —
Shame on thee, Little John, thou hast forgotten —
That by the blessed Mother no man, so
His own true wife came with him, should be stay’d
From passing onward. Fare you well, fair lady!
[Bowing to her.
ROBIN.
And may your business thrive in Nottingham!
/> CITIZEN.
I thank you, noble sir, the very blossom
Of bandits. Courtesy to him, wife, and thank him.
WIFE.
I thank you, noble sir, and will pray for you
That you may thrive, but in some kindlier trade.
CITIZEN.
Away, away, wife, wilt thou anger him?
[Exeunt Citizen and his Wife.
LITTLE JOHN.
Here come three friars.
ROBIN.
Marian, thou and thy woman
(looking round),
Why, where is Kate?
MARIAN (calling).
Kate!
KATE.
Here!
ROBIN.
Thou and thy woman are a match for three friars. Take thou my bow and arrow, and compel them to pay toll.
MARIAN.
Toll!
Enter three FRIARS.
FIRST FRIAR (advancing).
Behold a pretty Dian of the wood,
Prettier than that same widow which you wot of.
Ha, brother! Toll, my dear? the toll of love.
MARIAN (drawing bow).
Back! how much money hast thou in thy purse?
FIRST FRIAR.
Thou art playing with us. How should poor friars have money?
MARIAN.
How much? how much? Speak, or the arrow flies.
FIRST FRIAR.
How much? well, now I bethink me, I have one mark in gold which a pious son of the Church gave me this morning on my setting forth.
MARIAN (bending bow at the second).
And thou?
SECOND FRIAR.
Well, as he said, one mark in gold.
MARIAN (bending bow at the third).
And thou?
THIRD FRIAR.
One mark in gold.
MARIAN.
Search them, Kate, and see if they have spoken truth.
KATE.
They are all marked men. They have all told but a tenth of the truth: they have each ten marks in gold.
MARIAN.
Leave them each what they say is theirs, and take the twenty-seven marks to the captain’s treasury. Sit there till you be called for.
FIRST FRIAR.
We have fallen into the hands of Robin Hood.
[MARIAN and KATE return to Robin.
[The Friars pass behind an oak on the left.
ROBIN.
Honour to thee, brave Marian, and thy Kate!
I know them arrant knaves in Nottingham.
One half of this shall go to those they have wrong’d,
One half shall pass into our treasury.
Where lies that cask of wine whereof we plunder’d
The Norman prelate?
LITTLE JOHN.
In that oak, where twelve
Can stand upright, nor touch each other.
ROBIN. Good!
Roll it in here. These friars, thieves, and liars,
Shall drink the health of our new woodland queen.
And they shall pledge thee, Marian, loud enough
To fright the wild swan passing overhead,
The mouldwarp underfoot.