_Much._ As I am Much, the miller's son, That left my mill to go with thee, And nill repent that I have done, This pleasant life contenteth me; In aught I may, to do thee good, I'll live and die with Robin Hood. _Mar._ And, Robin, Marian she will go with thee, To see fair Bettris how bright she is of blee.[312] _Rob._ Marian, thou shalt go with thy Robin.-- Bend up your bows, and see your strings be tight, The arrows keen, and everything be ready, And each of you a good bat on his neck, Able to lay a good man on the ground. _Scar._ I will have Friar Tuck's. _Much._ I will have Little John's. _Rob._ I will have one made of an ashen plank, Able to bear a bout or two.-- Then come on, Marian, let us go; For before the sun doth show the morning day, I will be at Wakefield to see this Pinner, George-a-Greene. [_Exeunt._ SCENE III.--_At Bradford._ _A_ Shoemaker _discovered at work: enter_ JENKIN, _carrying a staff._[313] _Jen._ My masters, he that hath neither meat nor money, and hath lost his credit with the alewife, for anything I know, may go supperless to bed.--But, soft! who is here? here is a shoemaker; he knows where is the best ale.--Shoemaker, I pray thee tell me, where is the best ale in the town? _Shoe._ Afore, afore, follow thy nose; at the sign of the Egg-shell. _Jen._ Come, shoemaker, if thou wilt, and take thy part of a pot. _Shoe._ [_coming forward_]. Sirrah, down with your staff, down with your staff. _Jen._ Why, how now! is the fellow mad? I pray thee tell me, why should I hold down my staff? _Shoe._ You will down with him, will you not, sir? _Jen._ Why, tell me wherefore? _Shoe._ My friend, this is the town of merry Bradford, and here is a custom held, that none shall pass with his staff on his shoulders but he must have a bout with me; and so shall you, sir. _Jen._ And so will I not, sir. _Shoe._ That will I try. Barking dogs bite not the sorest. _Jen._ [_aside_]. I would to God I were once well rid of him. _Shoe._ Now, what, will you down with your staff? _Jen._ Why, you are not in earnest? are you? _Shoe._ If I am not, take that. [_Strikes him._ _Jen._ You whoreson, cowardly scab, it is but the part of a clapperdudgeon[314] to strike a man in the street. But darest thou walk to the town's end with me? _Shoe._ Ay, that I dare do; but stay till I lay in my tools, and I will go with thee to the town's end presently. _Jen._ [_aside_]. I would I knew how to be rid of this fellow. _Shoe._ Come, sir, will you go to the town's end now, sir? _Jen._ Ay, sir, come.-- [_Scene changes to the town's end_]. Now we are at the town's end, what say you now? _Shoe._ Marry, come, let us even have a bout. _Jen._ Ha, stay a little; hold thy hands, I pray thee. _Shoe._ Why, what's the matter? _Jen._ Faith, I am Under-pinner of a town, and there is an order, which if I do not keep, I shall be turned out of mine office.