_Rob._ Stay, George, for here I do protest, Thou art the stoutest champion that ever I Laid hands upon. _Geo._ Soft, you sir! by your leave, you lie; You never yet laid hands on me. _Rob._ George, wilt thou forsake Wakefield, And go with me? Two liveries will I give thee every year, And forty crowns shall be thy fee.[316] _Geo._ Why, who art thou? _Rob._ Why, Robin Hood: I am come hither with my Marian And these my yeomen for to visit thee. _Geo._ Robin Hood! Next to King Edward art thou lief[317] to me. Welcome, sweet Robin; welcome, Maid Marian; And welcome, you my friends. Will you to my poor house? You shall have wafer-cakes your fill, A piece of beef hung up since Martlemas, Mutton and veal: if this like you not, Take that you find, or that you bring, for me. _Rob._ Godamercies, good George, I'll be thy guest to-day. _Geo._ Robin, therein thou honourest me. I'll lead the way. [_Exeunt._ ACT THE FIFTH SCENE I.--_At Bradford._ _Enter_ KING EDWARD _and_ KING JAMES _disguised; each carrying a staff._ _K. Edw._ Come on, King James; now we are thus disguis'd, There's none, I know, will take us to be kings: I think we are now in Bradford, Where all the merry shoemakers dwell. _Enter several_ Shoemakers. _First Shoe._ Down with your staves, my friends, Down with them. _K. Edw._ Down with our staves! I pray thee, why so? _First Shoe._ My friend, I see thou art a stranger here, Else wouldst thou not have question'd of the thing. This is the town of merry Bradford, And here hath been a custom kept of old, That none may bear his staff upon his neck, But trail it all along throughout the town, Unless they mean to have a bout with me. _K. Edw._ But hear you, sir, hath the king granted you this custom? _First Shoe._ King or kaisar, none shall pass this way, Except King Edward; No, not the stoutest groom that haunts his court; Therefore down with your staves. _K. Edw._ What were we best to do? _K. James._ Faith, my lord, they are stout fellows; And, because we will see some sport, We will trail our staves. _K. Edw._ Hear'st thou, my friend? Because we are men of peace and travellers, We are content to trail our staves. _First Shoe._ The way lies before you, go along. _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ GEORGE-A-GREENE, _disguised._ _Rob._ See, George, two men are passing through the town, Two lusty men, and yet they trail their staves. _Geo._ Robin, they are some peasants trick'd in yeoman's weeds.-- Hollo, you two travellers! _K. Edw._ Call you us, sir? _Geo._ Ay, you. Are ye not big enough to bear Your bats upon your necks, but you must trail them Along the streets?