DON.  A holy prayer.  What collect have we next?

[This time ROBIN stirs.

FITZ.  My Marian wanteth words, such is her woe;
But old Fitzwater, for his girl and him,
Begs nothing but world’s plague for such a foe,
Which causeless harm’d a virtuous nobleman,
A pitier of his griefs, when he felt grief. 
Therefore, bethink thee of thy hateful deed,
Thou faithless Prior, and thou this ruthless thief.

PRIOR.  Will no man curse me, giving so much cause? 
Then, Doncaster, ourselves ourselves accurse,
And let no good betide to thee or me!

[All the Yeomen, FRIAR, MUCH, JENNY cry.

ALL.  Amen, amen! accursed may he be
For murdering Robin, flower of courtesy.

[ROBIN sits up.

ROB.  H. O, ring not such a peal for Robin’s death! 
Let sweet forgiveness be my passing bell. 
Art thou there, Marian? then fly forth, my breath: 
To die within thy arms contents me well.

PRIOR.  Keep in, keep in a little while thy soul,
Till I have pour’d my soul forth at thy feet.

ROB.  H. I slept not, uncle; I your grief did hear,
Let him forgive thy soul that bought it dear: 
Your body’s deed I in my death forgive,
And humbly beg the king that you may live. 
Stand to your clergy, uncle;[286] save your life,
And lead a better life than you have done.

PRIOR.  O, gentle nephew!  O, my brother’s son,
Thou dying glory of old Huntington! 
Wishest thou life to such a murderous foe? 
I will not live, since thou must life forego. 
O, happy Warman! blessed in thy end;
Now too-too late thy truth I do commend. 
O, nephew, nephew!  Doncaster and I
Murder’d poor Warman, for he did deny
To join with us in this black tragedy.

ROB.  H. Alas, poor Warman!  Friar, Little John,
I told ye both where Warman’s body lay,
And of his burial I’ll dispose anon.

KING.  Is there no law, Lord Ely, to convict
This Prior, that confesses murders thus?

ELY.  He is a hallow’d man, and must be tried
And punish’d by the censure of the church.

PRIOR.  The church therein doth err:  God doth allow
No canon to preserve a murderer’s life. 
Richard!  King Richard! in thy grandsire’s days
A law was made, the clergy sworn thereto,
That whatsoever churchman did commit
Treason or murder, or false felony,
Should like a secular be punished. 
Treason we did, for sure we did intend
King Richard’s poisoning, sovereign of this land. 
Murder we did, in working Warman’s end
And my dear nephew’s by this fatal hand: 
And theft we did, for we have robb’d the king,
The state, the nobles, commons, and his men,
Of a true peer, firm pillar, liberal lord. 
Fitzwater we have robbed of a kind son,
And Marian’s love-joys we have quite undone.

DON.  Whoop! what a coil is here with your confession!