[_Enter FRIAR TUCK with several more FORESTERS and WILL SCARLET._]

ROBIN

Ah, good Will Scarlet, here at last!

FRIAR TUCK

We should ha' been here sooner; but these others Borrowed a farmer's market cart and galloped Ahead of us!

ROBIN

Thy mother is in the hut, Sheer broken down with hope and fearfulness, Waiting and trembling for thee, Will. Go in, Put thy big arm around her.

[_WILL SCARLET goes into the hut with a cry._]

SCARLET

Mother!

FRIAR TUCK

You see, My sons, you couldn't expect the lad to run!

There is a certain looseness in the limbs, A quaking of the flesh that overcomes The bravest who has felt a hangman's rope Cuddling his neck.

ROBIN

You judge him by the rope That cuddles your slim waist! Oh, you sweet armful, Sit down and pant! I warrant you were glad To bear him company.

FRIAR TUCK

I'll not deny it!

I am a man of solids. Like the Church, I am founded on a rock.

[_He sits down._]

ROBIN

Solids, i' faith!

Sir, it is true he is partly based on beef; He grapples with it squarely; but fluids, too, Have played their part in that cathedral choir He calls his throat. One G.o.dless virtue, sir, They seem to have given him. Never a nightingale Gurgles jug! jug! in mellower tones than he When jugs are flowing. Never a thrush can pipe Sweet, sweet, so rarely as, when a pipe of wine Summers his throttle, we'll make him sing to us One of his heathen ditties--_The Malmsey b.u.t.t_, Or _Down the Merry Red Lane!_

FRIAR TUCK

Oh, ay, you laugh, But, though I cannot run, when I am rested I'll challenge you, Robin, to a game of buffets, One fair, square, stand-up, stand-still, knock-down blow Apiece; you'll need no more. If you not kiss The turf, at my first clout, I will forego Malmsey for ever!

ROBIN

Friar, I recant; You're champion there. Fists of a common size I will encounter; but not whirling hams Like thine!

FRIAR TUCK

I knew it!

JENNY

[_Approaching._]

Please you, sirs, all is ready!

FRIAR TUCK

Ah, Jenny, Jenny, Jenny, that's good news!

[_WILL SCARLET comes out of the hut with his arm round his mother. They all sit down at the table of turfs. Enter SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF timidly._]

SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF

Is there a place for me?

A FORESTER

Ay, come along!

FRIAR TUCK

Now, Robin, don't forget the grace, my son.

ROBIN

[_Standing up._]

It is our custom, sir, since our repast Is borrowed from the King, to drain one cup To him, and his return from the Crusade, Before we dine. That same wine-bibbing friar Calls it our 'grace'; and const.i.tutes himself Remembrancer--without a cause, for never Have we forgotten, never while bugles ring Thro' Sherwood, shall forget--Outlaws, the King!

[_All stand up except the KNIGHT._]

CRIES

The King and his return from the Crusade!

[_They drink and resume their seats._]

ROBIN

You did not drink the health, sir Knight. I hope You hold with Lion-Heart.

KNIGHT

Yes; I hold with him.

You were too quick for me. I had not drawn These gauntlets off.