THE EPILOGUE, BY 'SQUIRE TUB. This tale of me, the Tub of Totten-Court, Sly justico' arte, with the high constable's brief And brag commands; my lady mother's care, Still to be early up, but no or the near THE SAD SHEPHERD; OR, A TALE OF ROBIN HOOD. ACT 1. THE ARGUMENT. ROBIN HOOD, having invited all the shepherds and shepherdesses of the vale of Belvoir to a feast in the forest of Sherwood, and trusting to his mistress, maid Marian, with her woodmen, to kill him venison against the day: having left the like charge with friar Tuck, his chaplain and steward, to command the rest of his merry men to see the bower made ready, and all things in order for the entertainment: meeting with his guests at their entrance into the wood, welcomes and conducts them to his bower. Where, by the way, he receives the relation of the SAD SHEPHERD, Æglamour, who is fallen into a deep melancholy for the loss of his beloved Earine, reported to have been drowned in passing over the Trent, some few days before. They endeavor in what they can to comfort him: but his disease having taken such strong root, all is in vain, and they are forced to leave him. In the mean time, Marian is come from hunting with the huntsmen, where the lovers interchangeably express their loves. Robin Hood enquires if she hunted the deer at force, and what sport he made? how long he stood, and what head he bore? All which is briefly answered, with a relation of breaking him up, and the raven and her Done. The suspect had of that raven to be Maudlin, the witch of Paplewick, whom one of the huntsmen met in the morning at the rousing of the deer, and [which] is confirmed, by her being then in Robin Hood's kitchen, in the chimney-corner, broiling the same bit which was thrown to the raven at the quarry or fall of the deer. Marian being gone in to shew the deer to some of the shepherdesses, returns instantly to the scene, discontented; sends away the venison she had killed, to her they call the witch; quarrels with her love Robin Hood, abuseth him, and his guests the shepherds; and so departs, leaving them all in wonder and perplexity. ACT II. The witch Maudlin having taken the shape of Marian to abuse Robin Hood, and perplex his guests, cometh forth with ner daughter Douce, reporting in what confusion she had left them; defrauded them of their venison, made them suspicious each of the other; but most of all, Robin Hood so jealous of his Marian, as she hopes no effect of love would ever reconcile them; glorying so far in the extent of her mischief, as she confesseth to have surprised Earine, stripp'd her of her garments, to make her daughter appear fine at this feast in them; and to have shut the maiden up in a tree, as her son's prize, if he could win her; or his prey, if he would force her. Her son, a rude bragging swineherd, comes to the tree to woo her, (his mother and sister stepping aside to overhear him) and first boasts his wealth to her, and his possessions; which move not. Then he presents her gifts, such as himself is taken with, but she utterly shows a scorn and lothing both of him and them. His mother is angry, rates him, instructs him what to do the next time, and persuades her daughter to show herself about the bower: tells how she shall know her mother, when she is transform'd, by her broidered belt. Meanwhile the young shepherdess Amie, being kist by Karolin, Earine's brother, falls in love; but knows not what love is: but describes her disease so innocently, that Marian pities her. When Robin Hood and the rest of his guests invited, enter to Marian, upbraiding her with sending away their venison to mother Maudlin by Scathlock, which she denies; Scathlock affirms it; but seeing his mistress weep, and to forswear it, begins to doubt his own understanding, rather than affront her farther; which makes Robin Hood and the rest to examine themselves better. But Maudlin, the witch, entering like herself, comes to thank her for her bounty; at which Marian is more angry, and more denies the deed. Scathlock enters, tells he has brought it again, and delivered it to the cook. The witch is inwardly vext the venison is so recover'd from her by the rude huntsman, and murmurs and curses; be. witches the cook, mocks poor Amie and the rest; discov ereth her ill nature, and is a means of reconciling them all. For the sage shepherd suspecteth her mischief, if she be not prevented and so persuadeth to seize on her. Whereupon Robin Hood dispatcheth out his woodmen to hunt and take her. ACT III. Puck-Hairy discovereth himself in the forest, and discourseth his offices, with their necessities, briefly; after which, Douce entering in the habit of Earine, is pursued by Karol; who (mistaking her at first to be his sister) ques tions her how she came by those garments. She answers, by her mother's gift. The Sad Shepherd coming in the while, she runs away affrighted, and leaves Karol suddenly; glamour thinking it to be Earine's ghost he saw, falls into a melancholic expression of his phant'sie to Karol, and questions him sadly about that point, which moves compassion in Karol of his mistake still. When Clarion and Lionel enter to call Karol to Amie, Karol reports to them Eglamour's passion, with much regret. Clarion resolves to seek him. Karol to return with Lionel. By the way, Douce and her mother (in the shape of Marian) meet them, and would divert them, affirming Amie to be recovered, which Lionel wondered at to be so soon. Robin Hood en ters, they tell him the relation of the witch, thinking her to be Marian; Robin suspecting her to be Maudlin, lays hold of her girdle suddenly, but she striving to get free, they both run out, and he returns with the belt broken. She following in her own shape, demanding it, but at a distance, as fearing to be seized upon again; and seeing she cannot recover it, falls into a rage, and cursing, resolving to trust to her old arts, which she calls her daughter to assist in. The shepherds, content with this discovery, go home triumphing, make the relation to Marian. Amie is gladded with the sight of Karol, &c. In the mean time, enters Lorel, with purpose to ravish Earine, and calling her forth to that lewd end, he by the hearing of Clarion's footing is staid, and forced to commit her hastily to the tree again; where Clarion coming by, and hearing a voice singing, draws near unto it; but glamour hearing it also, and knowing it to be Earine's, falls into a superstitious commendation of it; as being an angel's, and in the air; when Clarion espies a hand put forth from the tree, and makes towards it, leaving Eglamour to his wild phant'sie, who quitteth the place. and Clarion beginning to court the hand, and make love to it, there ariseth a mist suddenly, which darkening all tho place, Clarion loseth himself and the tree where Earine is inclosed, lamenting his misfortune, with the unknown nymph's misery. The air clearing, enters the witch, with her son and daughter, tells them how she had caused that late darkness, to free Lorel from surprisal, and his prey from being rescued from him: bids him look to her, and lock her up more carefully, and follow her, to assist a work she hath in hand of recovering her lost girdle; which sho laments the loss of with cursings, execrations, wishing can fusion to their feast and meeting, sends her son and daughter to gather certain simples for her purpose, and bring them to her dell. This Puck hearing, prevents, and shews her error still. The huntsmen having found her footing, follow the track, and prick after her. She gets to her dell, and takes her form. Enter [the huntsman,] Alken has spied her sitting with her spindle, threaus, and images. They are eager to seize her presently, but Alken persuades them to let her begin her charms, which they do. Her son and daughter come to her; the huntsmen are aflighted as they see her work go forward. And overhasty to appre hend her, she escapeth them all, by the heip and delusiona of Puck. Enter The Prologue. THE PROLOGUE. He that hath feasted you these forty years, [The Sad Shepherd passeth silently over the For his lost love, who in the Trent is said Wher every piece be perfect in the kind. As if all poesie had one character In which what were not written, were not right; Egl. Here she was wont to go! and here! and here! Just where those daisies, pinks, and violets grow. Her treading would not bend a blade of grass, What 'tis that keeps your master, Robin Hood, And prays it of your bounty, as a boon, John. And a hart of ten, I trow he be, madam, or blame your men: His frayings, fewmets, he doth promise sport, Mar. Let's rouze him quickly, and lay on the hounds. John. Scathlock is ready with them on the grounds; So is his brother Scarlet: now they have found His lair, they have him sure within the pound. Mar. Away then, when my Robin bids a feast, 'Twere sin in Marian to defraud a guest. [Exeunt MARIAN and JOHN with the Woodmen. Tuck. And I, the chaplain, here am left to be Steward to-day, and charge you all in fee, To d'on your liveries, see the bower drest, And fit the fine devices for the feast: [trim, You, George, must care to make the baldrick And garland that must crown, or her, or him, Whose flock this year hath brought the earliest lamb. George. Good father Tuck, at your commands To cut the table out o' the green sword, [I am Or any other service for my lord; To carve the guests large seats; and these lain in [skin With turf, as soft and smooth as the mole's And hang the bulled nosegays 'bove their heads, Have you swept the river, say you, and not found her? Much. For fowl and fish, we have. You are goodly friends! right charitable men! Nay, keep your way and leave me; make your toys, Your tales, your posies, that you talk'd of; all The wound is yet too fresh to admit searching. [Exit. Eg. Searching! where should I search, or on what track? corn; Of those rich shepherds, dwelling in this vale malice! Not all their envious sousing can change that. But I will still study some revenge past this[Music of all sorts is heard. I pray you give me leave, for I will study, Though all the bells, pipes, tabors, timburines ring, That you can plant about me; I will study. Enter ROBIN HOOD, CLARION, MELLIFLEUR, LIO- The courteous Lionel, fair Amie; all Now that the shearing of your sheep is done, Cla. They were, gay Robin; but the sourer sort Of shepherds now disclaim in all such sport: And say, our flock the while are poorly fed, When with such vanities the swains are led. Tuck. Would they, wise Clarion, were not hurried more With covetise and rage, when to their store Lio. O friar, those are faults that are not seen, And what they censure ill, all others must. Of late, but I should think it still might be Then dart his hook at daisies, then would sing; Cla. Ay, and with a lass: Lio. And all these deeds were seen without Or the least hazard of their innocence. [offence, Rob. Those charitable times had no mistrust. Shepherds knew how to love, and not to lust. Cla. Each minute that we lose thus, I corfess, Deserves a censure on us, more or less; But that a sadder chance hath given allay Both to the mirth and music of this day. Our fairest shepherdess we had of late, Here upon Trent, is drown'd; for whom her mate, Young Eglamour, a swain, who best could tread Our country dances, and our games did lead, Lives like the melancholy turtle, drown'd Deeper in woe, than she in water: crown'd With yew, and cypress, and will scarce admit The physic of our presence to his fit. As we doubt hourly we shall lose him too. Rob. You should not cross him then, whate'er you do. [burn For phant'sie stopp'd, will soon take fire, and Into an anger, or to a phrensie turn. Cla. Nay, so we are advised by Alken here, A good sage shepherd, who, although he wear An old worn hat and cloke, can tell us more Than all the forward fry, that boast their lore. Lio. See, yonder comes the brother of the Young Karolin: how curious and afraid [maid, He is at once! willing to find him out, And loth to offend him. Enter KAROLIN. Kar. Sure he's here about. An exquisite revenge! but peace, no words! As it shall lose all virtue; and those nymphs, And curls, and works, and swells ready to [They approach him g. Do you not approve it? Rob. Yes, gentle glamour, we all approve, And come to gratulate your just revenge: Which, since it is so perfect, we now hope You'll leave all care thereof, and mix with us, In all the proffer'd solace of the spring. Eg. A spring, now she is dead! of what of thorns, |