A Select Collection of Old English Plays - novelonlinefull.com
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GLO. Leicester, do not come near me; For, if thou do, thou shalt buy it dearly.
LEI. I'll have thy hand for this.
GLO. Not for thy heart.
SKINK. Brave Earl, had Skink known thou hadst been the n.o.ble Gloster (whose mad tricks have made me love thee), I would have dyed Blackheath red with the blood of millions, ere we would have been taken; but what remedy? we are fast, and must answer it like gentlemen, like soldiers, like resolutes.
GLO. Aye, ye are a gallant. Come, old Lancaster.
For thy sake will I go, or else, by heaven, I'd send some dozen of these slaves to h.e.l.l.
SCENE THE THIRTY-FIRST.
_Enter_ PRINCE RICHARD, ROBIN HOOD, _and_ LADY FAUCONBRIDGE.
LADY F. Your travail and your comfortable news: This ring, the certain sign you met with him: Binds me in duteous love unto your grace; But on my knees I fall, and humbly crave Importune that no more you ne'er can have.
RICH. Nay, then, ye wrong me, Lady Fauconbridge, Did you not join your fair white hands, Swore that ye would forswear your husband's bed, [And] if I could but find out Gloster?
LADY F. I swear so!
RICH. [Yes,] by heaven.
ROB. Take heed; it's an high oath, my lord.
RICH. What meanest thou, Huntington?
ROB. To save your soul; I do not love to have my friends forsworn, She never promis'd, that you urge her with.
RICH. Go to; provoke me not.
ROB. I tell you true; 'Twas I in her attire that promis'd you.
She was gone unto the wizard at Blackheath, And there had suitors more than a good many.
RICH. Was I deluded then?
LADY F. No, not deluded; But hind'red from desire unchaste and rude.
O, let me woo ye with the tongue of ruth, Dewing your princely hand with pity's tears, That you would leave this most unlawful suit, If e'er we live, till Fauconbridge be dead, (As G.o.d defend his death I should desire).
Then, if your highness deign so base a match, And holy laws admit a marriage, Considering our affinity in blood, I will become your handmaid, not your harlot-- That shame shall never dwell upon my brow.
ROB. I'faith, my lord, she's honourably resolv'd, For shame, no more; importune her no more.
RICH. Marian, I see thy virtue, and commend it; I know my error, seeking thy dishonour, But the respectless, reasonless command Of my inflamed love, bids me still try, And trample under foot all piety; Yet, for I will not seem too impious, Too inconsiderate of thy seeming grief, Vouchsafe to be my mistress: use me kindly.
And I protest I'll strive with all my power, That l.u.s.t himself may in his heat devour.
LADY F. You are my servant, then.
RICH. Thanks, sacred mistress.
ROB. What am I?
LADY F. You are my fellow Robert.
_Enter_ FAUCONBRIDGE _in his hose and doublet_.
FAU. What, Prince Richard? n.o.ble Huntington?
Welcome, i'faith, welcome! by the morrow ma.s.s!
You are come as fitly as my heart can wish.
Prince John this night will be a reveller, He hath invited me and Marian, G.o.d's marry mother, go along with us, It's but hard by, close by--at our town-tavern.
RICH. Your tavern?
FAU. O, aye, aye, aye; 'tis his own made match, I'll make you laugh, I'll make you laugh, i'faith; Come, come; he's ready. O, come, come away.
LADY F. But where's the princess?
FAU. She is[536] ready too; Block, Block, my man, must be her waiting-man.
Nay, will ye go? for G.o.d's sake, let us go.
RICH. Is the jest so? nay, then, let us away.
ROB. O, 'twill allay his heat, make dead his fire.
FAU. Ye bobb'd me first; ye first gave me my hire, But come, a G.o.d's name, Prince John stays for us.
[_Exeunt_.
ROB. This is the word ever at spendthrifts' feasts, They are gull'd themselves, and scoff'd at by their guests.
[_Exit_.
SCENE THE THIRTY-SECOND.
_A tavern. Enter_ JOHN, FAUCONBRIDGE, ROBIN HOOD, RICHARD, _and the others_[537].
JOHN. Baffled and scoff'd! Skink, Gloster, women, Fools and boys abuse me. I'll be reveng'd.
RICH. Reveng'd? and why, good child?
Old Fauconbridge hath had a worser basting.
FAU. Aye, they have banded [me] from chase to chase; I have been their tennis-ball, since I did court.
RICH. Come, John, take hand with virtuous Isabel, And let's unto the court, like loving friends.
Our kingly brother's birth-day's festival Is forthwith to be kept; thither we'll hie, And grace with pomp that great solemnity.