FITZ. Well did he write, and mickle did he know, That said this world's felicity was woe, Which greater states can hardly undergo. Whilom Fitzwater, in fair England's court, Possess'd felicity and happy state, And in his hall blithe fortune kept her sport, Which glee one hour of woe did ruinate. Fitzwater once had castles, towns, and towers, Fair gardens, orchards, and delightful bowers; But now nor garden, orchard, town, nor tower, Hath poor Fitzwater left within his power. Only wide walks are left me in the world, Which these stiff limbs will hardly let me tread; And when I sleep, heaven's glorious canopy Me and my mossy couch doth overspread. Of this injurious John cannot bereave me; The air and earth he (while I live) must leave me; But from the English air and earth, poor man, His tyranny hath ruthless thee exiled. Yet e'er I leave it, I'll do what I can To see Matilda, my fair luckless child. [_Curtains open_:--ROBIN HOOD _sleeps on a green bank, and_ MARIAN _strewing flowers on him_. And in good time, see where my comfort stands, And by her lies dejected Huntington. Look how my flow'r holds flowers in her hands, And flings those sweets upon my sleeping son. I'll close mine eyes as if I wanted sight, That I may see the end of their delight. [_Goes knocking with his staff_. MAR. What aged man art thou? or by what chance Cam'st thou thus far into the wayless wood? FITZ. Widow or wife, or maiden if thou be, Lend me thy hand; thou seest I cannot see: Blessing betide thee, little feel'st thou want; With me, good child, food is both hard and scant. These smooth even veins assure me he is kind, Whate'er he be, my girl, that thee doth find. I, poor and old, am reft of all earth's good, And desperately am crept into this wood To seek the poor man's patron, Robin Hood. MAR. And thou art welcome: welcome, aged man, Ay, ten times welcome to Maid Marian. Sit down, old father, sit, and call me daughter. O God, how like he looks to old Fitzwater! [_Runs in_. FITZ. Is my Matilda call'd Maid Marian? I wonder why her name is changed thus. [MARIAN _brings wine, meat_. MAR. Here's wine to cheer thy heart; drink, aged man: There's ven'son and a knife, here's manchet[205] fine: Drink, good old man, I pray you, drink more wine. My Robin stirs; I must sing him asleep. ROB. H. Nay, you have wak'd me, Marian, with your talk. What man is that's come within our walk? MAR. An aged man, a silly, sightless man, Near pin'd with hunger: see, how fast he eats. ROB. H. Much good may't do him: never is good meat Ill-spent on such a stomach. Father, proface;[206] To Robin Hood thou art a welcome man. FITZ. I thank you, master. Are you Robin Hood? ROB. H. Father, I am. FITZ. God give your soul much good For this good meat Maid Marian hath given me. But hear me, master; can you tell me news, Where fair Matilda is, Fitzwater's daughter?