When even your cave Methinks can scarce be cheery. Huntingdon, Your earldom we restore to you this day! You and my Lady Marian shall return To Court with us, where your true bridal troth Shall be fulfilled with golden marriage bells. Now, friends, the venison pasty! We must hear _The Malmsey Butt_ and _Down the Merry Red Lane_, Ere we set out, at dawn, for London Town. ROBIN Allan-a-dale shall touch a golden string To speed our feast, sire, for he soars above The gross needs of the Churchman! RICHARD Allan-a-Dale? WILL SCARLET Our greenwood minstrel, sire! His harp is ours Because we won his bride for him. RICHARD His bride? REYNOLD GREENLEAF Was to be wedded, sire, against her will Last May, to a rich old baron. RICHARD Pigeon-pie-- And Malmsey--yes--a rich old baron--tell! ROBIN Sire, on the wedding day, my merry men Crowded the aisles with uninvited guests; And, as the old man drew forth the golden ring, They threw aside their cloaks with one great shout Of 'Sherwood'; and, for all its crimson panes, The church was one wild sea of Lincoln green! The Forest had broken in, sire, and the bride Like a wild rose tossing on those green boughs, Was borne away and wedded here by Tuck To her true lover; and so--his harp is ours. ALLAN-A-DALE No feasting song, sire, but the royal theme Of chivalry--a song I made last night In yonder ruined chapel. It is called _The Old Knight's Vigil_. RICHARD Our hearts will keep it young! [_ALLAN-A-DALE sings, SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF raises his head among the ferns._] [_Song._] I Once, in this chapel, Lord Young and undaunted, Over my virgin sword Lightly I chaunted,-- "Dawn ends my watch. I go Shining to meet the foe!" II "Swift with thy dawn," I said, "Set the lists ringing! Soon shall thy foe be sped, And the world singing! Bless my bright plume for me, Christ, King of Chivalry. [_SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF rises to his knees amongst the ferns._] III "War-worn I kneel to-night, Lord, by Thine altar! Oh, in to-morrow's fight, Let me not falter! Bless my dark arms for me, Christ, King of Chivalry. IV "Keep Thou my broken sword All the long night through While I keep watch and ward! Then--the red fight through, Bless the wrenched haft for me, Christ, King of Chivalry. V "Keep, in thy pierced hands, Still the bruised helmet: Let not their hostile bands Wholly o'erwhelm it! Bless my poor shield for me, Christ, King of Chivalry. VI