ROB. H. Why, thus of this: as Little John can tell, I had bespoken quaint comedians; But great John, John the prince, my liege's brother-- My rival, Marian, he that cross'd our love-- Hath cross'd me in this jest,[165] and at the court Employs the players should have made us sport. This was the tidings brought by Little John, That first disturbed me, and begot this thought Of sudden rising, which by this, I know, Hath with amazement troubled all our guests. Go in, good love: thou as the chorus shalt Express the meaning of my silent grief, Which is no more but this: I only mean (The more to honour our right noble friends) Myself in person to present some scenes Of tragic matter, or perchance of mirth, Even such as first shall jump with my conceit. MAR. May I be bold thou hast the worst expressed? LIT. JOHN. Fair mistress, all is true my lord hath said. ROB. H. It is, it is. MAR. Speak not so hollow then: So sigh and sadly speak true-sorrowing men. ROB. H. Believe me, love, believe me (I beseech), My first scene tragic is, therefore tragic speech And accents filling woful action, I strive to get. I pray thee, sweet, Go in, and with thy sight appease The many doubts that may arise. That done, Be thou their usher, bring them to this place, And thou shalt see me with a lofty verse Bewitch the hearers' ears, and tempt their eyes To gaze upon the action that I use. MAR. If it be but a play, I'll play my part: But sure some earnest grief affrights thy[166] heart. LIT. JOHN. Let me entreat ye, madam, not to fear, For, by the honesty of Little John, It's but a tragic scene we have in hand, Only to fit the humour of the queen, Who is the chiefest at your troth-plight feast. MAR. Then will I fetch her highness and the rest. [_Exit_. ROB. H. Ay, that same jealous queen, whose doting age Envies the choice of my fair Marian, She hath a hand in this. LIT. JOHN. Well, what of that? Now must your honour leave these mourning tunes, And thus by my areed you shall provide. Your plate and jewels I will straight pack up, And toward Nottingham convey them hence. At Rowford, Sowtham, Wortley, Hothersfield, Of all your cattle money shall be made; And I at Mansfield will attend your coming, Where we'll determine which way's best to take. ROB. H. Well, be it so; a' God's name, let it be; And, if I can, Marian shall come with me. LIT. JOHN. Else care will kill her. Therefore, if you please, At th'utmost corner of the garden wall, Soon in the evening wait for Marian; And as I go I'll tell her of the plan.[167] Your horses at the Bell shall ready be, I mean Belsavage;[168] whence as citizens, That mean[169] to ride for pleasure some small way, You shall set forth. ROB. H. Be it as thou dost say. Farewell awhile: In spite of grief, thy love compels me smile, But now our audience comes, we must look sad.[170]