Enter CHESTER.

CHES.  Nay, Friar, at the request of thy kind friend,
Let not thy play too soon be at an end. 
Though Robin Hood be dead, his yeomen gone,
And that thou think’st there now remains not one
To act another scene or two for thee,
Yet know full well, to please this company,
We mean to end Matilda’s tragedy.

FRIAR.  Off then, I wish you, with your Kendal green;
Let not sad grief in fresh array be seen. 
Matilda’s story is replete with tears,
Wrongs, desolations, ruins, deadly fears. 
In, and attire ye.  Though I tired be,
Yet will I tell my mistress’ tragedy. 
Apollo’s masterdom[289] I invocate,
To whom henceforth my deeds I dedicate;
That of his godhead, ’bove all gods divine,
With his rich spirit he would lighten mine: 
That I may sing true lays of trothless deeds,
Which to conceive my heart through sorrow bleeds,
Cheer thee, sad soul, and in a lofty line
Thunder out wrong, compass’d in cloudy tears: 

    [Enter in black.[290]

Show to the eyes, fill the beholders’ ears,
With all the lively acts of lustful rage,
Restrain’d by modest tears and chastity’s intreats: 
And let King John, that ill-part[291] personage,
By suits, devices, practices, and threats,
And when he sees all serveth to no end,
Of chaste Matilda let him make an end.

CHO.  We are all fitted, Friar:  shall we begin?

FRIAR.  Well art thou suited:  would my order would
Permit me habit equal to my heart!

CHO.  If you remember, John did take an oath
Never again to seek Matilda’s love.

FRIAR.  O, what is he, that’s sworn affection’s slave,
That will not violate all laws, all oaths? 
And, being mighty, what will he omit
To compass his intents, though ne’er so ill?—­
You must suppose King Richard now is dead,
And John, resistless, is fair England’s lord
Who, striving to forget Matilda’s love,
Takes to his wife the beauteous Isabel,
Betroth’d to Hugh le Brun, Earl of North-March:[292]
And picking quarrels under show of kin,
Wholly divorces his first queen away. 
But yet Matilda still-still troubles him,
And being in the court, so oft he courts her,
That by her noble father, old Fitzwater,
She is remov’d from his lust-tempting eye. 
But tides restrain’d o’erswell their bounds with rage: 
Her absence adds more fuel to his fire. 
In sleep he sees her, and his waking thoughts
Study by day to compass his desire.

CHO.  Friar, since now you speak of visions,
It was received by tradition
From those that were right near unto King John,
Of three strange visions that to him appear’d;
And, as I guess, I told you what they were.

FRIAR.  With them I will begin.  Draw but that veil,
And there King John sits sleeping in his chair.