A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 08
General
A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 08
English drama
SCAR. Go, said the king, and to your master say,
Richard is come to call him to the court,
And with his kingly presence chase the clouds
Of grief and sorrow, that in misty shades
Have veil'd the honour of Earl Huntington.
ROB. H. Now God preserve him! hie you back again,
And guide him, lest in bypaths he mistake.
Much, fetch a richer garment for my father;
Good Friar Tuck, I prythee rouse thy wits:
Warman, visit mine uncle and Sir Doncaster,
See if they can come forth to grace our show.
God's pity, Marian, let your Jenny wait.
Thanks, my lord chancellor, you are well prepar'd;
And, good Prince John, since you are all in green,
Disdain not to attend on Robin Hood:
Frolic, I pray; I trust to do ye good.
_Enter_ PRIOR _and_ SIR DONCASTER.[244]
Welcome, good uncle, welcome, Sir Doncaster.
Say, will ye sit; I fear ye cannot stand.
PRIOR. Yes, very well.
ROB. H. Why, cheerly, cheerly then.
The trumpet sounds, the king is now at hand:
Lords, yeomen, maids, in decent order stand.
_The trumpets sound the while_ ROBIN HOOD _places them.
Enter first, bareheaded_, LITTLE JOHN _and_ SCARLET;
_likewise_ CHESTER _and_ LEICESTER, _bearing the sword
and sceptre; the_ KING _follows, crowned, clad in green;
after him_ QUEEN MOTHER; _after her_ SALISBURY _and_
RICHMOND. SCARLET _and_ SCATHLOCK _turn to_ ROBIN HOOD,
_who with all his company kneel down and cry_--
ALL. God save King Richard! Lord preserve your grace!
KING. Thanks all; but chiefly, Huntington, to thee.
Arise, poor earl; stand up, my late-lost son.
And on thy shoulders let me rest my arms,
That have been toiled long with heathen wars.
True pillar of my state, right lord indeed,
Whose honour shineth in the den of need,
I am even full of joy and full of woe,
To see thee, glad; but sad to see thee so.
ROB. H. O, that I could pour out my soul in prayers,
And praises for this kingly courtesy!
Do not, dread lord, grieve at my low estate:
Never so rich, never so fortunate,
Was Huntington as now himself he finds;
And to approve it, may it please your grace,
But to accept such presents at the hand
Of your poor servant as he hath prepar'd.
You shall perceive the Emperor of the East,
Whom you contended with at Babylon,
Had not such presents to present you with.
KING. Art thou so rich? swift,[245] let me see thy gifts.
ROB. H. First, take again this jewel you had lost,
Aged Fitzwater, banished by John.
KING. A gem indeed! no prince hath such a one.
Good, good old man, as welcome unto me
As cool fresh air in heat's extremity.
FITZ. And I as glad to kiss my sovereign's hand,
As the wreck'd swimmer, when he feels the land.
QUEEN. Welcome, Fitzwater, I am glad to see you.
FITZ. I thank your grace: but let me hug these twain,
Leicester and Richmond, Christ's sworn champions,
That follow'd Richard in his holy war.
RICH. Noble Fitzwater, thanks, and welcome both.
LEI. O God, how glad I am to see this lord!
I cannot speak, but welcome at a word.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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