Why, first declare him outlawed at his feast! 'Twill gladden the tremulous heart of old Fitzwalter With his prospective son-in-law; and then-- No man will overmuch concern himself Whither an outlaw goes. You understand? SHERIFF It shall be done, sir. JOHN But the Lady Marian! By heaven, I'll take her. I'll banish old Fitzwalter If he prevent my will in this. You'll bring How many men to ring the castle round? SHERIFF A good five score of bowmen. JOHN Then I'll take her This very night as hostage for Fitzwalter, Since he consorts with outlaws. These grey rats Will gnaw my kingdom's heart out. For 'tis mine, This England, now or later. They that hold By Richard, as their absent king, would make My rule a usurpation. God, am I My brother's keeper? [_There is a cry in the forest from the SERF, who immediately afterwards appears at the edge of the glade, shaking himself free from his guards. He seizes a weapon and rushes at PRINCE JOHN. One of the retainers runs him through and he falls at the PRINCE'S feet._] JOHN That's a happy answer! SHERIFF [_Stooping over the body._] He is dead. JOHN I am sorry. It were better sport To send him groping like a hoodman blind Through Sherwood, whimpering for his Robin. Come, I'll ride with you to this betrothal feast. Now for my Lady Marian! [_Exeunt all. A pause. The scene darkens. Shadowy figures creep out from the thickets, of old men, women and children._] FIRST OLD MAN [_Stretching his arms up to Heaven._] God, am I My brother's keeper? Witness, God in heaven, He said it and not we--Cain's word, he said it! FIRST WOMAN [_Kneeling by the body._] O Father, Father, and the blood of Abel Cries to thee! A BLIND MAN Is there any light here still? I feel a hot breath on my face. The dark Is better for us all. I am sometimes glad They blinded me those many years ago. Princes are princes; and God made the world For one or two it seems. Well, I am glad I cannot see His world. FIRST WOMAN [_Still by the body and whispering to the others._] Keep him away. 'Tis as we thought. The dead man is his son. Keep him away, poor soul. He need not know. [_Some of the men carry the body among the thickets._] A CHILD Mother, I'm hungry, I'm hungry! FIRST OLD MAN There's no food For any of us to-night. The snares are empty, And I can try no more. THE BLIND MAN