GRIM.  No, truly, sir; I am a poor man fetcheth my living out of the fire; your worship may be a gentleman devil, for aught I know.

ROB.  Some men call me Robin Goodfellow.

GRIM.  O Lord, sir!  Master Robert Goodfellow, you are very welcome, sir.

ROB.  This half year have I liv’d about this town,
Helping poor servants to despatch their work,
To brew and bake, and other husbandry. 
Tut, fear not, maid; if Grim be merry,
I will make up the match between ye.

GRIM.  There will be a match in the devil’s name!

ROB.  Well, now the night is almost spent,
Since your affections all are bent
To marriage and to constant love,
Grim, Robin doth thy choice approve;
And there’s the priest shall marry you: 
Go to it, and make no more ado: 
Sirrah, sir priest, go get you gone,
And join both her and him anon;
But ne’er hereafter let me take you
With wanton love-tricks, lest I make you
Example to all stone-priests ever,
To deal with other men’s loves never.

SHO. Valete vos, and God bless me,
And rid me from his company! 
Come, Grim, I’ll join you hand in hand,
In sacred wedlock’s holy band. 
I will no more a-nutting go,
That journey caused all this woe.

GRIM.  Come, let’s to hand in hand quickly.  Master Robert, you were ever one of the honestest merry devils that ever I saw.

JOAN.  Sweet Grim, and if thou lovest me, let’s away.

GRIM.  Nay, now, Joan, I spy a hole in your coat:  if you cannot endure the devil, you’ll never love the collier.  Why, we two are sworn brothers.  You shall see me talk with him even as familiarly as if I should parbreak[479] my mind and my whole stomach upon thee.

JOAN.  I prythee, do not, Grim.

GRIM.  Who? not I?  O Lord, Master Robert Goodfellow, I have a poor cottage at home, whither Joan and I will jog us merrily.  We will make you no stranger, if you come thither.  You shall be used as devilishly as you would wish, i’faith.  There is never a time my cart cometh from London, but the collier bringeth a goose in his sack, and that, with the giblets thereof, is at your service.

ROB.  This is more kindness, Grim, than I expected.

GRIM.  Nay, sir, if you come home, you shall find it true, I warrant you.  All my whole family shall be at your devilship’s pleasure, except my poor Joan here, and she is my own proper nightgear.

ROB.  Gramercies, but away in haste;
The night is almost spent and pass’d.

GRIM.  God be with you, sir; I’ll make as much haste about it as may be; for, and that were once done, I would begin a new piece of work with you, Joan.

[Exeunt all but ROBIN.

ROB.  Now joy betide this merry morn,
And keep Grim’s forehead from the horn: 
For Robin bids his last adieu
To Grim and all the rest of you.
                         [Exit ROBIN.