Chapter 11
the OUTLAWS are gathered together talking. Occasionally they look anxiously toward the cave and at the approaches through the wood. Enter two FORESTERS, running and breathless._
FIRST FORESTER
The King's men! They are scouring thro' the wood, Two troops of them, five hundred men in each And more are following.
SECOND FORESTER
We must away from here And quickly.
LITTLE JOHN
Where did you sight them?
SECOND FORESTER
From the old elm, Our watch-tower. They were not five miles away!
FIRST FORESTER
Five, about five. We saw the sunlight flash Along, at least five hundred men at arms; And, to the north, along another line, Bigger, I think; but not so near.
SECOND FORESTER
Where's Robin? We must away at once!
FIRST FORESTER
No time to lose!
LITTLE JOHN
His wound is bitter--I know not if we dare Move him!
FIRST FORESTER
His wound?
LITTLE JOHN
Ay, some damned arrow pierced him When he escaped last night from the Dark Tower. He never spoke of it when first he reached us; And, suddenly, he swooned. He is asleep Now. He must not be wakened. They will take Some time yet ere they thread our forest-maze.
FIRST FORESTER
Not long, by God, not long. They are moving fast.
[_MARIAN appears at the mouth of the cave. All turn to look at her, expectantly. She seems in distress._]
MARIAN
He is tossing to and fro. I think his wound Has taken fever! What can we do?
FRIAR TUCK
I've sent A messenger to Kirklee Priory, Where my old friend the Prioress hath store Of balms and simples, and hath often helped A wounded forester. Could we take him there, Her skill would quickly heal him.
LITTLE JOHN
The time is pressing!
FRIAR TUCK
The lad will not be long!
[_ROBIN appears tottering and white at the mouth of the cave._]
MARIAN
[_Running to him._]
O Robin, Robin, You must not rise! Your wound!
ROBIN
[_He speaks feverishly._]
Where can I rest Better than on my greenwood throne of turf? Friar, I heard them say they had some prisoners. Bring them before me.
FRIAR TUCK
Master, you are fevered, And they can wait.
ROBIN
Yes, yes; but there are some That cannot wait, that die for want of food, And then--the Norman gold will come too late, Too late.
LITTLE JOHN O master, you must rest.
[_Going up to him._]
MARIAN Oh, help me, Help me with him. Help me to lead him back.
ROBIN
No! No! You must not touch me! I will rest When I have seen the prisoners, not before.
LITTLE JOHN
He means it, mistress, better humour him Or he will break his wound afresh.
MARIAN
O Robin, Give me your word that you'll go back and rest, When you have seen them.
ROBIN
Yes, I will try, I will try! But oh, the sunlight! Where better, sweet, than this?
[_She leads him to the throne of turf and he sits down upon it, with MARIAN at his side._]
The Friar is right. This life is wine, red wine, Under the greenwood boughs! Oh, still to keep it, One little glen of justice in the midst Of multitudinous wrong. Who knows? We yet May leaven the whole world.
[_Enter the Outlaws, with several prisoners, among them, a KNIGHT, an ABBOT, and a FORESTER._]
Those are the prisoners? You had some victims of the forest laws That came to you for help. Bring them in, too, And set them over against these lords of the earth!
[_Some ragged women and children appear. Several serfs with iron collars round their necks and their eyes put out, are led gently in._]
Is that our Lincoln green among the prisoners? There? One of my own band?
LITTLE JOHN
Ay, more's the pity! We took him out of pity, and he has wronged Our honour, sir; he has wronged a helpless woman Entrusted to his guidance thro' the forest.
ROBIN
Ever the same, the danger comes from those We fight for, those below, not those above! Which of you will betray me to the King?
THE FORESTER
Do you ask _me_, sir?
ROBIN
Judas answered first, With "Master, is it I?" Hang not thy head! What say'st thou to this charge?
THE FORESTER
Why, Friar Tuck Can answer for me. Do you think he cares Less for a woman's lips than I?
FRIAR TUCK
Cares less, Thou rotten radish? Nay, but a vast deal more! God's three best gifts to man,--woman and song And wine, what dost _thou_ know of all their joy? Thou lean pick-purse of kisses?
ROBIN
Take him out, Friar, and let him pack his goods and go, Whither he will. I trust the knave to thee And thy good quarter-staff, for some five minutes Before he says "Farewell."
FRIAR
Bring him along, Give him a quarter-staff, I'll thrash him roundly.
[_He goes out. Two of the FORESTERS follow with the prisoner. Others bring the ABBOT before ROBIN._]
ROBIN
Ah! Ha! I know him, the godly usurer Of York!
LITTLE JOHN
We saw a woman beg for alms, One of the sufferers by the rule which gave This portly Norman his fat priory And his abundant lands. We heard him say That he was helpless, had not one poor coin To give her, not a scrap of bread! He wears Purple beneath his cloak: his fine sleek palfrey Flaunted an Emperor's trappings!
ABBOT
Man, the Church Must keep her dignity!
ROBIN
[_Pointing to the poor woman, etc._]
Ay, look at it! There is your dignity! And you must wear Silk next your skin to show it. But there was one You call your Master, and He had not where To lay His head, save one of these same trees!
ABBOT
Do you blaspheme! I pray you, let me go! There are grave matters waiting. I am poor!
ROBIN
Look in his purse and see.
ABBOT
[_Hurriedly._]
I have five marks In all the world, no more. I'll give them to you!
ROBIN
Look in his purse and see.
[_They pour a heap of gold out of his purse._]
ROBIN
Five marks, Indeed! Here's, at the least, a hundred marks in gold!
ABBOT
That is my fees, my fees; you must not take them!
ROBIN
The ancient miracle!--five loaves, two small fishes; And then--of what remained--they gathered up Twelve basketsful!
ABBOT
Oh, you blaspheming villains!
ROBIN
Abbot, I chance to know how this was wrought, This miracle; wrought with the blood, anguish and sweat Of toiling peasants, while the cobwebs clustered Around your lordly cellars of red wine. Give him his five and let him go.
ABBOT
[_Going out._]
The King Shall hear of this! The King will hunt you down!
ROBIN
And now--the next!
SCARLET
Beseech you, sir, to rest, Your wound will--
ROBIN
No! The next, show me the next!
SCARLET
This Norman baron--
ROBIN
What, another friend! Another master of broad territories. How many homes were burned to make you lord Of half a shire? What hath he in his purse?
SCARLET
Gold and to spare!
BARON
To keep up mine estate I need much more.
ROBIN
[_Pointing to the poor._]
Ay, you need these! these! these!
BARON
[_Protesting._]
I am not rich.
ROBIN
Look in his purse and see.
BARON
You dogs, the King shall hear of it!
ROBIN
[_Murmuring as if to himself._]
Five loaves! And yet, of what remained, they gathered up Twelve basketsful. The bread of human kindness Goes far! Oh, I begin to see new meanings In that old miracle! How much? How much?
SCARLET
Five hundred marks in gold!
ROBIN
[_Half rising and speaking with a sudden passion._]
His churls are starving, Starving! Their little children cry for bread! One of those jewels on his baldric there Would feed them all in plenty all their lives! Five loaves--and yet--and yet--of what remained, The fragments, mark you, twelve great basketsful!
BARON
I am in a madman's power! The man is mad!
ROBIN
Take all he has, all you can get. To-night, When all is dark (we must have darkness, mind, For deeds like this) blind creatures will creep out With groping hands and gaping mouths, lean arms, And shrivelled bodies, branded, fettered, lame, Distorted, horrible; and they will weep Great tears like gouts of blood upon our feet, And we shall succour them and make them think (That's if you have not mangled their poor souls As well, or burned their children with their homes), We'll try to make them think that some few roods Of earth are not so bitter as hell might be. Are you not glad to think of this? Nay--go-- Or else your face will haunt me when I die! Take him quickly away. The next! The next! O God!
[_Flings up his arms and falls fainting._]
MARIAN
[_Bending over him._]
O Robin! Robin! Help him quickly. The wound! The wound!
[_They gather round ROBIN. The OUTLAWS come back with the captive FORESTER, his pack upon his back._]
FRIAR TUCK
[_To the FORESTER._]
Now, get you gone and quickly! What, what hath happened?
[_FRIAR TUCK and the OUTLAWS join the throng round ROBIN. The FORESTER shakes his fist at them and goes across the glade muttering. The MESSENGER from Kirklee Priory comes out of the forest at the same moment and speaks to him, not knowing of his dismissal._]
MESSENGER
All's well! Robin can come To Kirklee. Our old friend the Prioress Is there, and faithful! They've all balms and simples To heal a wound.
FORESTER
[_Staring at him._]
To Kirklee?
MESSENGER
Yes, at sunset, We'll take him to the borders of the wood All will be safe. Where he can steal in easily, alone.
FORESTER
The King's men are at hand!
MESSENGER
Oh, but if we can leave him there, all's safe; We'll dodge the King's men.
FORESTER
When is he to go?
MESSENGER
Almost at once; but he must not steal in Till sundown, when the nuns are all in chapel. How now? What's this? What's this?
[_He goes across to the throng round ROBIN._]
FORESTER
[_Looking after him._]
Alone, to Kirklee!
[_Exit._]