Collected Poems

Chapter 103

Then I ask this!

Give me that prisoner! I think his life is mine.

ROBIN

You saved my own, and more, you saved much more Than my poor life is worth. But, sir, think well!

This man is dangerous, not to me alone, But to the King of England; for he"ll yet Usurp the throne! Think well!

KNIGHT

I ask no more.

I have more reasons than you know.

ROBIN

So be it.

Ho! Bring the prisoner back!

[_The FORESTERS bring PRINCE JOHN back. He stares at the KNIGHT as if in fear._]

Sir, you shall judge him.

This prisoner is your own.

KNIGHT

Then--let him go!

FORESTERS

What! Set him free?

ROBIN

Obey!

[_They release PRINCE JOHN._]

KNIGHT

Out of my sight; Go!

PRINCE JOHN

What man is this?

KNIGHT

Quickly, get thee gone!

[_PRINCE JOHN goes out, shaken and white._]

ROBIN

We"ll think no more of him! It is our rule That whomsoe"er we meet in merry greenwood Should dine with us. Will you not be our guest?

KNIGHT

That"s a most happy thought! I have not heard A merrier word than dinner all this day.

I am well-nigh starved.

ROBIN

Will you not raise your visor And let us know to whose good knightly hand We are so beholden?

KNIGHT

Sir, you will pardon me, If, for a little, I remain unknown.

But, tell me, are you not that Robin Hood Who breaks the forest laws?

ROBIN

That is my name.

We hold this earth as naturally our own As the glad common air we breathe. We think No man, no king, can so usurp the world As not to give us room to live free lives, But, if you shrink from eating the King"s deer--

KNIGHT

Shrink? Ha! ha! ha! I count it as my own!

[_The FORESTERS appear, preparing the dinner on a table of green turfs, beneath a spreading oak. MARIAN and JENNY appear at the door of the hut. JENNY goes across to help at the preparations for dinner._]

ROBIN

Ah, there"s my Lady Marian! Will you not come And speak with her?

[_He and the KNIGHT go and talk to MARIAN in the background._]

LITTLE JOHN

[_At the table._]

The trenchers all are set; Manchets of wheat, cream, curds and honey-cakes, Venison pasties, roasted pigeons! Much, Run to the cave; we"ll broach our rarest wine To-day. Old Much is waiting for thee there To help him. He is growling roundly, too, At thy delay.

MUCH

[_Going towards the cave._]

Ah me, my poor old father!

JENNY

I"ve dressed the salt and strawed the dining hall With flowers.

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