She openeth the door.  Enter SHORTHOSE, and ROBIN after him.

JOAN.  What, Master Parson, are you come so late? 
You are welcome; here’s none but Grim and I.

SHO.  Joan, I’ll no more a-nutting go,
I was so beaten to and fro;
And yet who it was, I do not know.

GRIM.  What, Master Parson, are you come so late to say eveningsong to your parishioners?  I have heard of your knavery.  I give you a fair warning; touch her no lower than her girdle, and no higher than her chin:  I keep her lips and her hips for my own use.  I do; and so welcome.

ROBIN.  This two hours have I dogg’d the parson round about all Croydon, doubting some such thing. [Aside.]

SHO.  No, Grim, I here forswear to touch
Thy Joan, or any other such: 
Love hath been so cudgell’d out of me,
I’ll go no more to wood with thee.

ROB.  ’Twas Robin beat this holy mind into him. 
I think more cudgelling would make him more honest. [Aside.]

GRIM.  You speak like an honest man and a good parson, and that is more.  Here’s Joan’s benevolation for us, a mess of cream and so forth.  Here is your place, Master Parson.  Stand on the t’other side of the table, Joan.  Eat hard to-night, that thou may marry us the better to-morrow.

ROB.  What, is my brother Grim so good a fellow.
                      [They fall to the cream. 
I love a mess of cream as well as they;
I think it were best I stepp’d in and made one. [Aside.]
Ho, ho, ho,[476] my masters!  No good fellowship! 
Is Robin Goodfellow a bugbear grown,
                        [ROBIN falleth to eat. 
That he is not worthy to be bid sit down?

GRIM.  O Lord, save us! sure, he is some country-devil; he hath got a russet coat upon his face.

      [GRIM and SHORTHOSE retire to the back of the stage.]

SHO.  Now, benedicite! who is this? 
I take him for some fiend, i-wis;[477]
O, for some holy-water here
Of this same place this spirit to clear!

ROB.  Nay, fear not, Grim, come fall unto your cream: 
Tut, I am thy friend; why dost not come and eat?

GRIM.  I, sir? truly, master devil, I am well here, I thank you.

ROB.  I’ll have thee come, I say.  Why, tremblest thou?

GRIM.  No, sir, not I; ’tis a palsy I have still.  Truly, sir, I have no great acquaintance with you.

ROB.  Thou shalt have better, man, ere I depart.

GRIM.  I will not, and if I can choose.

ROB.  Nay, come away, and bring your love with you.

GRIM.  Joan! you were best go to him, Joan.

ROB.  What, shall I fetch thee, man?  The cream is sweet.

GRIM.  No, sir, I am coming:  much good do’t you.  I had need of a long spoon, now I go to eat with the devil.[478]

ROB.  The parson’s penance shall be thus to fast. 
Come, tell me, Grim, dost thou not know me, man?