Six days hence, if you keep watch At yonder window (you'll be hungry then) You may catch sight of Marian and Prince John Wandering into the gardens down below. You will be hungry then; perhaps you'll strive To call to us, or stretch a meagre arm Through those strong bars; but then you know the height Is very great--no voice can reach to the earth: This is the topmost cell in my Dark Tower. Men look like ants below there. I shall say To Marian, See that creature waving there High up above us, level with the clouds, Is it not like a winter-shrivelled fly? And she will laugh; and I will pluck her roses. And then--and then--there are a hundred ways, You know, to touch a woman's blood with thoughts Beyond its lawful limits. Ha! ha! ha! By God, you almost spoke to me, I think. Touches at twilight, whispers in the dark, Sweet sympathetic murmurs o'er the loss Of her so thoughtless Robin, do you think Maid Marian will be quite so hard to win When princes come to woo? There will be none To interrupt us then. Time will be mine To practise all the amorous arts of Ovid, And, at the last-- ROBIN Will you not free my hands? You have your sword. But I would like to fight you Here, with my naked hands. I want no more. PRINCE JOHN Ha! ha! At last the sullen speaks. That's all I wanted. I have struck you in the face. Is't not enough? You can't repay that blow. ROBIN Bury, me down in hell and I'll repay it The day you die, across your lying mouth That spoke of my true lady, I will repay it, Before the face of God! PRINCE JOHN [_Laughing._] Meanwhile, for me Till you repay that blow, there is the mouth Of Marian, the sweet honey-making mouth That shall forestall your phantom blow with balm. Oh, you'll go mad too soon if I delay. I am glad you spoke. Farewell, the masons wait. And I must not be late for Marian. [_Exit thro' the small aperture now left in the doorway. It is rapidly closed and sounds of heavy masonry being piled against it are heard. ROBIN tries to free his hands and after an effort, succeeds. He hurls himself against the doorway, and finds it hopeless. He turns to the window, peers through it for a moment, then suddenly unwinds a scarf from his neck, ties it to one of the bars and stands to one side._] ROBIN Too high a shot for most of my good bowmen! What's that? A miss? [_He looks thro' the window._] Good lad, he'll try again! [_He stands at the side once more and an arrow comes thro' the window._] Why, that's like magic! [_He pulls up the thread attached to it._]