You, Prince, our king to come—you that dishonour The daughters and the wives of your own faction— Who hunger for the body, not the soul— This gallant Prince would have me of

his—what? Household? or shall I call it by that new term Brought from the sacred East, his harem? Never, Tho' you should queen me over all the realms Held by King Richard, could I stoop so low As mate with one that holds no love is pure,

No friendship sacred, values neither man Nor woman save as tools—God help the mark— To his own unprincely ends. you, Sheriff, [Turning to the Sheriff. Who thought to buy your marrying me with gold, Marriage is of the soul, not of the body. Win me you cannot, murder me you may, And all I love, Robin, and all his men, For I am one with him and his; but while I breathe Heaven's air, and Heaven looks down on me, And smiles at my best meanings, I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul. [Retreating, with bow drawn, to the bush. Robin Aobin. I am here, my arrow on the cord. He dies who dares to touch thee. Prince John. Advance, advance What, daunted by a garrulous, arrogant girl! Seize her and carry her off into my castle. Sheriff. Thy castle ! Prince John. Said I not, I loved thee, man? Risk not the love I bear thee for a girl. Sheriff. Thy castle Prince John. See thou thwart me not, thou fool! When Richard comes he is soft enough to pardon

And you,

Who bears all down.

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King Richard. What shouts are these that ring along the wood? Friar Tuck (coming forward). Hail, knight, and help us. Here is one would clutch Our pretty Marian for his paramour, This other, willy-nilly, for his bride. Aing Richard. Damsel, is this the truth? Marian. Ay, noble knight. Friar Tuck. Ay, and she will not marry till Richard come. Aing Richard (raising his vizor). I am here, and I am he. Prince John (lowering his, and whispering to his men). It is not he— his face—tho' very like— No, no we have certain news he died in prison. Make at him, all of you, a traitor coming In Richard's name—it is not he—not he. [The men stand amazed. Friar Tuck (going back to the bush). Robin, shall we not move? A’obin. It is the King Let him alone awhile. He loves the chivalry of his single arm. Wait till he blow the horn.

Friar Tuck (coming back). If thou be king, Be not a fool! Why blowest thou not

the horn? Aing Richard. I that have turn'd their Moslem crescent pale— I blow the horn against this rascal rout! [Friar Tuck plucks the horn from him and blows. Richard dashes alone against the Sheriff and John's men, and is almost borne down, when Robin and his men rush in and rescue him. Aing Richard (to Robin Hood). Thou hast saved my head at the peril of thine own. Prince john. A horse ! a horse ! I must away at once; I cannot meet his eyes. I go to Notting

ham. Sheriff, thou wilt find me at Nottingham. [AExit. Sheriff. If anywhere, I shall find thee in hell. What! go to slay his brother, and make frze

The monkey that should roast his chestnuts for him Ring Richard. I fear to ask who left us even now. Robin. I grieve to say it was thy father's son. Shall I not after him and bring him back? Aing Richard. No, let him be. Sheriff of Nottingham, [Sheriff kneels. I have been away from England all these years, Heading the holy war against the Moslem, While thou and others in our kingless realms Were fighting underhand unholy wars Against your lawful king. Sheriff. My liege, Prince John— Aing A'ichard. Say thou no word against my brother John. Sheriff. Why then, my liege, I have no word to say. A'ing Richard (to Robin). My good friend Robin, Earl of Huntingdon, For Earl thou art again, hast thou no fetters For those of thine own band who would betray thee? Robin. I have; but these were never worn as yet. I never found one traitor in my band. Aing Richard. Thou art happier than thy king. Put him in chains. [7 hey setter the Sheriff.

A'obin. Look o'er these bonds, my liege. [Shows the King the bonds. talk together. Aing Richard. You, my lord Abbot, you Justiciary, [The Abbot and Justiciary kneel. I made you Abbot, you Justiciary: You both are utter traitors to your king. ... justiciary. O my good liege, we did believe you dead. A’obin. Was justice dead because the King was dead? Sir Richard paid his monies to the Abbot. You crost him with a quibble of your law. Aing A'ichard. But on the faith and honour of a king The land is his again. Sir Richard. The land the land 1 I am crazed no longer, so I have the land. [Comes out of the litter and kneels. God save the King ! Aing Richard (raising Sir Richard). I thank thee, good Sir Richard. Maid Marian.


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An Eastern tyrant, not an English king. Abbot. Besides, my liege, these men are outlaws, thieves, They break thy forest laws—nay, by the rood They have done far worse—they plunder —yea, ev'n bishops, Yea, ev'n archbishops—if thou side with these, Beware, O King, the vengeance of the Church. Friar Tuck (brandishing his staff). I pray you, my liege, let me execute the vengeance of the Church upon them. I have a stout crabstick here, which longs to break itself across their backs. Aobin. Keep silence, bully friar, before the King. Friar Tuck. If a cat may look at a king, may not a friar speak to one? Aing A'ichard. I have had a year of prison-silence, Robin, And heed him not—the vengeance of the Church 1 Thou shalt pronounce the blessing of the Church On those two here, Robin and Marian. A/arian. He is but hedge-priest, Sir King. King A'ichard. And thou their Queen. Our rebel Abbot then shall join your hands, Or lose all hopes of pardon from us—yet Not now, not now—with after-dinner grace.

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ann. Sir Richard. I had despair'd of thee —that sent me crazed. Thou art worth thy weight in all those marks of gold, Yea, and the weight of the very land itself, Down to the inmost centre. Robin. Walter Lea, Give me that hand which fought for Richard there. Embrace me, Marian, and thou, good Kate, [To Kate entering. Kiss and congratulate me, my good Kate. [..She kisses him. Little John. Lo now ! lo now ! I have seen thee clasp and kiss a man indeed, For our brave Robin is a man indeed. Then by thine own account thou shouldst be mine.

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at dawn and even, Or in the balmy breathings of the night, Will whisper evermore of Robin Hood. We leave but happy memories to the forest. We dealt in the wild justice of the woods. All those poor serfs whom we have served will bless us, All those pale mouths which we have fed will praise us— All widows we have holpen pray for us, Our Lady's blessed shrines throughout the land Be all the richer for us. friar, You Much, you Scarlet, you dear Little John, Your names will cling like ivy to the wood. And here perhaps away Some hunter in day-dreams or half asleep Will hear our arrows whizzing overhead, And catch the winding of a phantom horn.

You, good

a hundred years Robin. And surely these old oaks will murmur thee

Marian along with Robin. I am most happy—

Art thou not mine?—and happy that our King

Is here again, never I trust to roam
So far again, but dwell among his own.
Strike up a stave, my masters, all is well.

Song while they dance a Country Dance.

Now the king is home again, and nevermore to roam again,

Now the king is home again, the king will have his own again,

Home again, home again, and each will have his own again,

All the birds in merry Sherwood sing and sing him home again.

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