MARIAN.
They pledge me, Robin?
The silent blessing of one honest man
Is heard in heaven — the wassail yells of thief
And rogue and liar echo down in hell,
And wake the devil, and I may sicken by ‘em.
Well, well, be it so, thou strongest thief of all,
For thou hast stolen my will, and made it thine.
FRIAR TUCK, LITTLE JOHN, MUCH, and SCARLET roll in cask.
FRIAR TUCK.
I marvel is it sack or Malvoisie?
ROBIN.
Do me the service to tap it, and thou wilt know.
FRIAR TUCK.
I would tap myself in thy service, Robin.
ROBIN.
And thou wouldst run more wine than blood.
FRIAR TUCK.
And both at thy service, Robin.
ROBIN.
I believe thee, thou art a good fellow, though a friar.
[They pour the wine into cups.
FRIAR TUCK.
Fill to the brim. Our Robin, King o’ the woods,
Wherever the horn sound, and the buck bound,
Robin, the people’s friend, the King o’ the woods!
[They drink.
ROBIN.
To the brim and over till the green earth drink
Her health along with us in this rich draught,
And answer it in flowers! The Queen o’ the woods,
Wherever the buck bound, and the horn sound,
Maid Marian, Queen o’ the woods!
[They drink.
Here, you three rogues,
[They come out.
You caught a lonely woodman of our band,
And bruised him almost to the death, and took
His moneys.
THIRD BEGGAR.
Captain, nay, it was n’t me.
ROBIN.
You ought to dangle up there among the crows.
Drink to the health of our new Queen o’ the woods,
Or else be bound and beaten.
FIRST BEGGAR.
Sir, sir — well,
We drink the health of thy new Queen o’ the woods.
ROBIN.
Louder! louder! Maid Marian, Queen o’ the woods!
BEGGARS (shouting).
Maid Marian, Queen o’ the woods! Queen o’ the woods!
FIRST and SECOND BEGGARS (aside).
The black fiend grip her!
[They drink.
ROBIN (to the FRIARS).
And you three holy men,
[They come out.
You worshippers of the Virgin, one of you
Shamed a too trustful widow whom you heard
In her confession; and another — worse! —
An innocent maid. Drink to the Queen o’ the woods,
Or else be bound and beaten.
FIRST FRIAR.
Robin Hood,
These be the lies the people tell of us,
Because we seek to curb their viciousness.
However — to this maid, this Queen o’ the woods!
ROBIN.
Louder, louder, ye knaves! Maid Marian!
Queen o’ the woods!
FRIARS (shouting).
Maid Marian, Queen o’ the woods!
FIRST FRIAR (aside).
Maid?
SECOND FRIAR (aside).
Paramour!
THIRD FRIAR (aside).
Hell take her!
[They drink.
FRIAR TUCK.
Robin, will you not hear one of these beggars’ catches? They can do it. I have heard ‘em in the market at Mansfield.
LITTLE JOHN.
No, my lord, hear ours — Robin — I crave pardon, I always think of you as my lord, but I may still say my lady; and, my lady, Kate and I have fallen out again, and I pray you to come between us again, for, my lady, we have made a song in your honour, so your ladyship care to listen.
ROBIN.
Sing, and by Saint Mary these beggars and these friars shall join you. Play the air, Little John.
LITTLE JOHN.
Air and word, my lady, are maid and man. Join them and they are a true marriage; and so, I pray you, my lady, come between me and my Kate, and make us one again. Scarlet, begin.
[Playing the air on his viol.
SCARLET.
By all the deer that spring
Thro’ wood and lawn and ling,
When all the leaves are green;
By arrow and gray goosewing,
When horn and echo ring,
We care so much for a King;
We care not much for a Queen —
For a Queen, for a Queen o’ the woods.
MARIAN.
Do you call that in my honour?
SCARLET.
Bitters before dinner, my lady, to give you a relish. The first part — made before you came among us — they put it upon me because I have a bad wife. I love you all the same. Proceed.
[All the rest sing.
By all the leaves of spring,
And all the birds that sing
When all the leaves are green;
By arrow and by bowstring,
We care so much for a King
That we would die for a Queen —
For a Queen, for a Queen o’ the woods.
Enter FORESTER.
FORESTER.
Black news, black news from Nottingham! I grieve
I am the raven who croaks it. My lord John,
In wrath because you drove him from the forest,
Is coming with a swarm of mercenaries
To break our band and scatter us to the winds.
MARIAN.
O Robin, Robin! See that men be set
Along the glades and passes of the wood
To warn us of his coming! then each man
That owns a wife or daughter, let him bury her
Even in the bowels of the earth to scape
The glance of John ——
ROBIN.
You hear your Queen, obey!
Act IV
Scene I - The Conclusion.
SCENE. — A forest bower, cavern in background. Sunrise.
MARIAN (rising to meet ROBIN).
Robin, the sweet light of a mother’s eye,
That beam of dawn upon the opening flower,
Has never glanced upon me when a child.
He was my father, mother, both in one.
The love that children owe to both I give
To him alone.
(ROBIN offers to caress her.)
MARIAN.
Quiet, good Robin, quiet!
You lovers are such clumsy summer-flies
For ever buzzing at your lady’s face.
ROBIN.
Bees rather, flying to the flower for honey.
MARIAN (sings).
The bee buzz’d up in the heat:
‘I am faint for your honey, my sweet.’
The flower said, ‘Take, it my dear,
For now is the spring of the year.
So come, come!’
‘Hum!’
And the bee buzz’d down from the heat.
And the bee buzz’d up in the cold
When the flower was wither’d and old.
‘Have you still any honey, my dear?’
She said, ‘It’s the fall of the year,
But come, come!’
‘Hum!’
And the bee buzz’d off in the cold.
ROBIN.
Out on thy song!
MARIAN.
Did I not sing it in tune?
ROBIN.
No, sweetheart! out of tune with Love and me.
MARIAN.
And yet in tune with Nature and the bees.
ROBIN.
Out on it, I say, as out of tune and time!
MARIAN.
Till thou thyself shalt come to sing it — in time.
ROBIN. (taking a tress of her hair in his hand).
>
Time! if his backward-working alchemy
Should change this gold to silver, why, the silver
Were dear as gold, the wrinkle as the dimple.
Thy bee should buzz about the court of John.
No ribald John is Love, no wanton prince,
The ruler of an hour, but lawful King,
Whose writ will run thro’ all the range of life.
Out upon all hard-hearted maidenhood!
MARIAN.
And out upon all simple bachelors!
Ah, well! thou seest the land has come between us,
And my sick father here has come between us,
And this rich sheriff too has come between us;
So, is it not all over now between us?
Gone, like a deer that hath escaped thine arrow!
ROBIN.
What deer when I have mark’d him ever yet
Escaped mine arrow? over is it? wilt thou
Give me thy hand on that?
MARIAN.
Take it.
ROBIN (kisses her hand).
The sheriff!
This ring cries out against thee. Say it again,
And, by this ring, the lips that never breathed
Love’s falsehood to true maid will seal Love’s truth
On those sweet lips that dare to dally with it.
MARIAN.
Quiet, quiet! or I will to my father.
ROBIN.
So, then, thy father will not grace our feast
With his white beard to-day.
MARIAN.
Being so sick.
How should he, Robin?
ROBIN.
Then that bond he hath
Of the abbot — wilt thou ask him for it?
MARIAN. Why?
ROBIN.
I have sent to the abbot and justiciary
To bring their counter-bond into the forest.
MARIAN.
But will they come?
ROBIN.
If not I have let them know
Their lives unsafe in any of these our woods,
And in the winter I will fire their farms.
But I have sworn by our Lady if they come
I will not tear the bond, but see fair play
Betwixt them and Sir Richard — promised too,
So that they deal with us like honest men,
They shall be handled with all courteousness.
MARIAN.
What wilt thou do with the bond then?
ROBIN.
Wait and see.
What wilt thou do with the sheriff?
MARIAN.
Wait and see.
I bring the bond.
[Exit Marian.
Enter LITTLE JOHN, FRIAR TUCK, and MUCH, and FORESTERS and PEASANTS laughing and talking.
ROBIN.
Have you glanced down thro’ all the forest ways,
And mark’d if those two knaves from York be coming?
LITTLE JOHN.
Not yet, but here comes one of bigger mould.
Enter KING RICHARD.
Art thou a knight?
KING RICHARD.
I am.
ROBIN.
And walkest here
Unarmour’d? all these walks are Robin Hood’s,
And sometimes perilous.
KING RICHARD.
Good! but having lived
For twenty days and nights in mail, at last
I crawl’d like a sick crab from my old shell,
That I might breathe for a moment free of shield
And cuirass in this forest where I dream’d
That all was peace — not even a Robin Hood —
(Aside) What if these knaves should know me for their King?
ROBIN.
Art thou for Richard, or allied to John?
KING RICHARD.
I am allied to John.
ROBIN.
The worse for thee.
KING RICHARD.
Art thou that banish’d lord of Huntingdon,
The chief of these outlaws who break the law?
ROBIN.
I am the yeoman, plain Robin Hood, and being out of the law how should we break the law? if we broke into it again we should break the law, and then we were no longer outlaws.
KING RICHARD.
But, earl, if thou be he ——
FRIAR TUCK.
Fine him! fine him! he hath called plain
Robin an earl. How much is it, Robin, for a knight?
ROBIN.
A mark.
KING RICHARD (gives it).
There.
ROBIN.
Thou payest easily, like a good fellow,
But being o’ John’s side we must have thy gold.
KING RICHARD.
But I am more for Richard than for John.
ROBIN.
What, what, a truckler! a word-eating coward!
Nay, search him then. How much hast thou about thee?
KING RICHARD.
I had one mark.
ROBIN.
What more?
KING RICHARD.
No more, I think.
But how then if I will not bide to be search’d?
ROBIN.
We are four to one.
KING RICHARD.
And I might deal with four.
ROBIN.
Good, good, I love thee for that! but if I wind
This forest-horn of mine I can bring down
Fourscore tall fellows on thee.
KING RICHARD.
Search me then.
I should be hard beset with thy fourscore.
LITTLE JOHN (searching KING RICHARD).
Robin, he hath No more. He hath spoken truth.
ROBIN.
I am glad of it. Give him back his gold again.
KING RICHARD.
But I had liefer than this gold again —
Not having broken fast the livelong day —
Something to eat.
ROBIN.
And thou shalt have it, man.
Our feast is yonder, spread beneath an oak,
Venison, and wild boar, wild goose, besides
Hedge-pigs, a savoury viand, so thou be
Squeamish at eating the King’s venison.
KING RICHARD.
Nay, Robin, I am like thyself in that
I look on the King’s venison as my own.
FRIAR TUCK.
Ay, ay, Robin, but let him know our forest laws: he that pays not for his dinner must fight for it. In the sweat of thy brow, says Holy Writ, shalt thou eat bread, but in the sweat of thy brow and thy breast, and thine arms, and thy legs, and thy heart, and thy liver, and in the fear of thy life shalt thou eat the King’s venison — ay, and so thou fight at quarterstaff for thy dinner with our Robin, that will give thee a new zest for it, though thou wert like a bottle full up to the cork, or as hollow as a kex, or the shambles-oak, or a weasel-sucked egg, or the head of a fool, or the heart of Prince John, or any other symbol of vacuity.
[They bring out the quarterstaffs, and the foresters and peasants crowd round to see the games, and applaud at intervals.
KING RICHARD.
Great woodland King, I know not quarterstaff.
LITTLE JOHN.
A fine! a fine! He hath called plain Robin a king.
ROBIN.
A shadow, a poetical fiction — did ye not call me king in your song? — a mere figure. Let it go by.
FRIAR TUCK.
No figure, no fiction, Robin. What, is not man a hunting animal? And look you now, if we kill a stag, our dogs have their paws cut off, and the hunters, if caught, are blinded, or worse than blinded. Is that to be a king? If the King and the law work injustice, is not he that goes against the King and the law the true King in the sight of the King of kings? Thou art the King of the forest, and I would thou wert the King of the land.
KING RICHARD.
This friar is of much boldness, noble ca
ptain.
ROBIN.
He hath got it from the bottle, noble knight.
FRIAR TUCK.
Boldness out of the bottle! I defy thee.
Boldness is in the blood, Truth in the bottle.
She lay so long at the bottom of her well
In the cold water that she lost her voice,
And so she glided up into the heart
O’ the bottle, the warm wine, and found it again.
In vino veritas. Shall I undertake
The knight at quarterstaff, or thou?
ROBIN.
Peace, magpie!
Give him the quarterstaff. Nay, but thyself
Shalt play a bout with me, that he may see
The fashion of it.
[Plays with FRIAR TUCK at quarterstaff.
KING RICHARD.
Well, then, let me try.
[They play.
I yield, I yield. I know no quarterstaff.
ROBIN.
Then thou shalt play the game of buffets with us.
KING RICHARD.
What’s that?
ROBIN.
I stand up here, thou there. I give thee
A buffet, and thou me. The Holy Virgin
Stand by the strongest! I am overbreathed,
Friar, by my two bouts at quarterstaff.
Take him and try him, friar.
FRIAR TUCK.
There!
[Strikes.
KING RICHARD (strikes).
There!
[FRIAR falls.
FRIAR TUCK. There!
Thou hast roll’d over the Church militant
Like a tod of wool from wagon into warehouse.
Nay, I defy thee still. Try me an hour hence.
I am misty with my thimbleful of ale.
ROBIN.
Thou seest, Sir Knight, our friar is so holy
That he’s a miracle-monger, and can make
Five quarts pass into a thimble. Up, good Much.
FRIAR TUCK.
And show thyself more of a man than me.
MUCH.
Well, no man yet has ever bowl’d me down.
SCARLET.
Ay, for old Much is every inch a man.
ROBIN.
We should be all the more beholden to him.
MUCH.
Much and more! much and more! I am the oldest of thy men, and thou and thy youngsters are always muching and moreing me.
ROBIN.
Because thou art always so much more of a man than my youngsters, old Much.
MUCH.
Well, we Muches be old.
ROBIN.
Old as the hills.
MUCH.
Old as the mill. We had it i’ the Red King’s time, and so I may be more of a man than to be bowled over like a ninepin. There!
[Strikes.
KING RICHARD.
There!
[MUCH falls.
ROBIN.
‘Much would have more,’ says the proverb; but Much hath had more than enough. Give me thy hand, Much; I love thee (lifts him up). At him, Scarlet.
SCARLET.
I cannot cope with him: my wrist is strain’d.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson - Delphi Poets Series Page 182