Chapter 4

_Enter_ LITTLE JOHN _fighting with the_ SHERIFF _and his men_; WARMAN _persuading him_.

LIT. JOHN. Warman, stand off! Tit-tattle, tell not me what ye can do: The goods, I say, are mine, and I say true.

WAR. I say the Sheriff must see them, ere they go.

LIT. JOHN. You say so, Warman: Little John says no.

SHER. I say I must, for I am the king's shrieve.

LIT. JOHN. Your must is false; your office I believe.

WATCH. Down with him! down with him!

LIT. JOHN. Ye bark at me like curs, but I will down With twenty "Stand, and who goes there?"[175] of you, If ye stand long tempting my patience. Why, Master Sheriff, think you me a fool? What justice is there you should search my trunks, Or stay my goods for that my master owes?

SHER. Here's Justice Warman, steward to your lord, Suspects some coin, some jewels, or some plate That 'longs unto your lord, are in your trunks, And the extent is out for all his goods; Therefore we ought to see none be convey'd.

WAR. True, Little John; I am the sorrier.

LIT. JOHN. A plague upon ye else, how sore ye weep! Why, say, thou upstart, that there were some help, Some little, little help in this distress, To aid our lord and master comfortless, Is it thy part, thou screen-fac'd snotty-nose, To hinder him that gave thee all thou hast?

_Enter_ JUSTICE WARMAN'S [_French_] WIFE _oddly attired_.

WIFE. Who's that, husband? you, you! means he you?

WAR. I, by'r Lady is it, I thank him.

WIFE. Ah, ye knave you! God's pity, husband, why dis no your worship send the kneve to Newgate?

LIT. JOHN. Well, Master Sheriff, shall I pass or no?

SHER. Not without search.

LIT. JOHN. Then here the casket stands: Any that dares unto it set their hands, Let him begin.

WIFE. Do, hisband; You are a majesty: I warrant There's old knacks, chains, and other toys.

LIT. JOHN. But not for you, good madam beetle-brows.

WIFE. Out upon him! By my truly, Master Justice, and ye do not clap him up, I will sue a bill of remorse, and never come between a pair of sheets with ye. Such a kneve as this! down with him, I pray.

[_Set upon him: he knocks some down_.

WIFE. Ah, good Lord! come not near, good husband; only charge him, charge him! Ah, good God! help, help!

_Enter_ PRINCE JOHN, _the_ BISHOP OF ELY, _the_ PRIOR OF YORK, _with others. All stay_.

JOHN. What tumult have we here? who doth resist The king's writs with such obstinate contempt?

WIFE. This kneve.

WAR. This rebel.

JOHN. How now, Little John, Have you no more discretion than you show?

ELY. Lay hold, and clap the traitor by the heels.

LIT. JOHN. I am no traitor, my good Lord of Ely First hear me, then commit me, if you please.

JOHN. Speak, and be brief.

LIT. JOHN. Here is a little box, Containing all my gettings twenty year, Which is mine own, and no man's but mine own: This they would rifle, this I do defend, And about this we only do contend.

JOHN. You do the fellow wrong: his goods are his. You only must extend upon the Earl's.

PRIOR. That was, my lord, but now is Robert Hood; A simple yeoman, as his servants were.

WIFE. Back with that leg, my Lord Prior: there be some that were his servants think foul scorn to be called yeomen.

PRIOR. I cry your worship mercy, Mistress Warman: The squire, your husband, was his servant once.

LIT. JOHN. A scurvy squire, with reverence of these lords.

WIFE. Does he not speak treason, pray?

ELY. Sirrah, ye are too saucy: get you hence.

WAR. But hear me first, my lords, with patience. This scoffing, careless fellow, Little John, Hath loaden hence a horse 'twixt him and Much, A silly, rude knave--Much, the miller's son.

_Enter_ MUCH, _Clown_.

MUCH. I am here to answer for myself, and have taken you in two lies at once: first, Much is no knave, neither was it a horse Little John and I loaded, but a little curtal of some five handfuls high, sib to the ape's only beast at Paris Garden.[176]

LIT. JOHN. But, Master Warman, you have loaded carts, And turned my lord's goods to your proper use. Whoever hath the right, you do the wrong, And are--

WIFE. What is he, kneve?

LIT. JOHN. Unworthy to be nam'd a man.

MUCH. And I'll be sworn for his wife.

WIFE. Ay, so thou mayest, Much.

MUCH. That she sets new marks of all my old lady's linen (God rest her soul!), and my young lord never had them since.

WIFE. Out, out! I took him them but for to whiten, as God mend me.

ELY. Leave off this idle talk; get ye both hence.

LIT. JOHN. I thank your honours: we are not in love With being here. We must seek service that are masterless.

[_Exeunt_ MUCH _and_ LITTLE JOHN.

ELY. Lord Prior of York, here's your commission. You are best make speed, lest in his country houses, By his appointment, all his herds be sold.

PRIOR. I thank your honour, taking humble leave. [_Exit_.

ELY. And, Master Warman, here's your patent sealed For the High Sheriffwick of Nottingham; Except the king our master do repeal This gift of ours.

JOHN. Let him the while possess it.

ELY. A God's name, let him; he hath my good will. [_Exit_.

JOHN. Well, Warman, this proud priest I cannot brook. But to our other matter: send thy wife away.

WAR. Go in, good wife; the prince with me hath private conference.

WIFE. By my troth, ye will anger me: now ye have the pattern, ye should call me nothing but Mistress Sheriff; for I tell you I stand upon my replications. [_Exit_.

JOHN. Thinkest thou that Marian means To 'scape this evening hence with Robin Hood? The horse-boy told me so; and here he comes, Disguised like a citizen, methinks. Warman, let's in; I'll fit him presently: Only for Marian am I now his enemy.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ ROBIN, _like a citizen_.

ROB. H. Earl John[177] and Warman, two good friends of mine: I think they knew me not, or if they did I care not what can follow. I am sure The sharpest end is death, and that will come. But what of death or sorrow do I dream? My Marian, my fair life, my beauteous love Is coming, to give comfort to my grief, And the sly queen, intending to deceive, Hath taught us how we should her sleights receive.[178] But who is this? God's pity! here's Prince John.

JOHN. Good even, sir. This clear evening should portend Some frost, I think: how judge you, honest friend?

ROB. H. I am not weather-wise; but it may be We shall have hard frost; for true charity, Good dealing, faithful friendship, honesty, Are chill-cold, dead with cold.

JOHN. O good sir, stay, That frost hath lasted many a bitter day. Know ye no frozen hearts that are belov'd?

ROB. H. Love is a flame, a fire, that being moved, Still brighter grows. But say, are you beloved?

JOHN. I would be, if I be not: but pass that. Are ye a dweller in this city, pray?

ROB. H. I am; and for a gentlewoman stay, That rides some four or five mile in great haste.

_Enter_ QUEEN _and_ MARIAN.[179]

JOHN. I see your labour, sir, is not in waste, For here come two; are either of these yours?

ROB. H. Both are--one most.[180]

JOHN. Which do you most respect?

ROB. H. The youngest and the fairest I reject.

JOHN. Robin, I'll try you, whether ye say true. [_Aside_.

ROB. H. As you with me, so, John, I'll jest with you. [_Aside_.

QU. ELIN. Marian, let me go first to Robin Hood, And I will tell him what we do intend.

MAR. Do what your highness please; your will is mine.

JOHN. My mother is with gentle Marian: O, it doth grieve her to be left behind.

QU. ELIN. Shall we away, my Robin, lest the queen Betray our purpose? sweet, let us away: I have great will to go, no heart to stay.

ROB. H. Away with thee? No; get thee far away From me, foul Marian, fair though thou be nam'd; For thy bewitching eyes have raised storms, That have my name and noblesse ever sham'd; Prince John, my dear friend once, is now for thee Become an unrelenting enemy.

JOHN. But I'll relent and love thee, if thou leave her.

ROB. H. And Elinor my sovereign, mother-queen,[181] That yet retains true passion in her breast, Stands mourning yonder. Hence! I thee detest. I will submit me to her majesty. Great princess, if you will but ride with me A little of my way, I will express My folly past, and humble pardon beg.

MAR. I grant, Earl Robert, and I thank thee too.

QU. ELIN. She's not the queen; sweet Robin, it is I.

ROB. H. Hence, sorceress! thy beauty I defy. If thou have any love at all to me, Bestow it on Prince John; he loveth thee.

[_Exeunt_ ROBIN, MARIAN.

JOHN. And I will love thee, Robin, for this deed, And help thee, too, in thy distressful need.

QU. ELIN. Wilt thou not stay nor speak, proud Huntington? Ay me! some whirlwind hurries them away.

JOHN. Follow him not, fair love, that from thee flies, But fly to him that gladly follows thee. Wilt thou not, girl? turn'st thou away from me?

QU. ELIN. Nay, we shall have it then, If my quaint son his mother 'gin to court. [_Aside_.

JOHN. Wilt thou not speak, fair Marian, to Prince John, That loves thee well?

QU. ELIN. Good sir, I know you do.

JOHN. That can maintain thee.

QU. ELIN. Ay, I know you can, But hitherto I have maintained you.

JOHN. My princely mother!

QU. ELIN. Ay, my princely son.

JOHN. Is Marian then gone hence with Huntington?

QU. ELIN. Ay, she is gone; ill may they either thrive.

JOHN. Mother, they [needs] must go, whom the devil drives; For your sharp fury and infernal rage, Your scorn of me, your spite to Marian, Your overdoating love to Huntington, Hath cross'd yourself, and me it hath undone.

QU. ELIN. I in mine own deceit have met deceit: In brief the manner thus I will repeat. I knew with malice that the Prior of York Pursued Earl Robert; and I furthered it, Though God can tell, for love of Huntington. For thus I thought: when he was in extremes, Need and my love would win some good regard From him to me, if I reliev'd his want. To this end came I to the mock spouse-feast; To this end made I change for Marian's weed, That me for her Earl Robert should receive: But now I see they both of them agreed, In my deceit I might myself deceive. Come in with me, come in, and meditate How to turn love to never-changing hate. [_Exit_.

JOHN. In by yourself; I pass not for your spells. Of youth and beauty still you are the foe: The curse of Rosamond rests on your head, Fair Rose confounded by your cank'rous hate,[182] O, that she were not as to me she is, A mother, whom by nature I must love, Then I would tell her she were too-too base To dote thus on a banish'd careless groom: Then should I tell her that she were too fond To trust[183] fair Marian to an exile's hand.

_Enter a_ MESSENGER _from_ ELY.

MES. My lord, my Lord of Ely sends for you About important business of the state.

JOHN. Tell the proud prelate I am not dispos'd Nor in estate to come at his command. [_Smites him; he bleeds_. Begone with that; or tarry, and take this! 'Zwounds! are ye list'ning for an after-errand? [_Exit_ MESSENGER. I'll follow with revengeful, murd'rous hate The banish'd, beggar'd, bankrupt Huntington.

_Enter_ SIMON, _Earl of Leicester_.

LEI. How now, Prince John? body of me! I muse What mad moods toss ye in this busy time To wound the messenger that Ely sent, By our consents? i'faith, ye did not well.

JOHN. Leicester, I meant it, Ely, not his man: His servant's head but bleeds, he headless shall From all the issues of his traitor-neck Pour streams of blood, till he be bloodless left. By earth, it shall--by heaven, it shall be so! Leicester, it shall, though all the world say no.

LEI. It shall, it shall! but how shall it be done? Not with a stormy tempest of sharp words, But slow, still speeches and effecting deeds. Here comes old Lacy and his brother Hugh! One is our friend, and the other is not true.

_Enter_ LORD LACY, SIR HUGH, _and his Boy_.

LACY. Hence, treacher, as thou art! by God's bless'd mother! I'll lop thy legs off, though thou be my brother, If with thy flattering tongue thou seek to hide Thy traitorous purpose. Ah, poor Huntington! How in one hour have villains thee undone!

HUGH. If you will not believe what I have sworn, Conceit your worst. My Lord of Ely knows That what I say is true.

LACY. Still facest thou? Draw, boy, and quickly see that thou defend thee.

LEI. Patience, Lord Lacy! get you gone, Sir Hugh; Provoke him not, for he hath told you true: You know it, that I know the Prior of York, Together with my good lord chancellor, Corrupted you, Lord Sentloe, Broughton, Warman, To feast with Robert on his day of fall.

HUGH. They lie that say it: I defy ye all.

JOHN. Now, by the rood, thou liest. Warman himself, That creeping Judas, joy'd, and told it me.

LACY. Let me, my lords, revenge me of this wretch, By whom my daughter and her love were lost.

JOHN. For her, let me revenge: with bitter cost, Shall Sir Hugh Lacy and his fellows buy Fair Marian's loss, lost by their treachery; And thus I pay it. [_Stabs him; he falls; Boy runs in_.

LEI. Sure payment, John.

LACY. There let the villain lie. For this old Lacy honours thee, Prince John: One treacherous soul is sent to answer wrong.

_Enter_ ELY, CHESTER, _Officers, Hugh Lacy's Boy_.

BOY. Here, here, my lord! look, where my master lies.

ELY. What murd'rous hand hath kill'd this gentle knight, Good Sir Hugh Lacy, steward of my lands?

JOHN. Ely, he died by this princely hand.

ELY. Unprincely deed! Death asketh death, you know. Arrest him, officers.

JOHN. O sir, I will obey. You will take bail, I hope.

CHES. 'Tis more, sir, than he may.

LEI. Chester, he may by law, and therefore shall.

ELY. Who are his bail?

LEI. I.

LACY. And I.

ELY. You are confederates.

JOHN. Holy Lord, you lie.

CHES. Be reverend, Prince John: my Lord of Ely, You know, is Regent for his majesty,

JOHN. But here are letters from his majesty, Sent out of Joppa, in the Holy Land, To you, to these, to me, to all the state, Containing a repeal of that large grant, And free authority to take the seal Into the hands of three lords temporal And the Lord Archbishop of Roan, he sent. And he shall yield it, or as Lacy lies, Desertfully, for pride and treason stabb'd, He shall ere long lie. Those, that intend as I, Follow this steely ensign, lift on high.

[_Lifts up his drawn sword. Exit, cum_ LEICESTER _and_ LACY.

ELY. A thousand thousand ensigns of sharp steel, And feather'd arrows from the bow of death, Against proud John wrong'd Ely will employ. My Lord of Chester, let me have your aid, To lay the pride of haught,[184] usurping John.

CHES. Some other course than war let us bethink: If it may be, let not uncivil broils Our civil hands defile.

ELY. God knows that I For quiet of the realm would aught forbear: But give me leave, my noble lord, to fear, When one I dearly lov'd is murdered Under the colour of a little wrong Done to the wasteful Earl of Huntington; Whom John, I know, doth hate unto the death, Only for love he bears to Lacy's daughter.

CHES. My lord, it's plain this quarrel is but pick'd For an inducement to a greater ill; But we will call the council of estate, At which the Mother Queen shall present be: Thither by summons shall Prince John be call'd, Leicester, and Lacy, who, it seems, Favour some factious purpose of the prince.

ELY. You have advised well, my Lord of Chester; And as you counsel, so do I conclude.

[_Exeunt_.