PRIOR.  Shall I be plain? because, if he were dead,
I should be made the Earl of Huntington.

DON.  A pretty cause; but thou a churchman art.

PRIOR.  Tut, man, if that would fall,
I’ll have a dispensation, and turn temporal. 
But tell me, Doncaster, why dost thou hate him?

DON.  By the mass, I cannot tell.  O yes, now I ha’t: 
I hate thy cousin Earl of Huntington,
Because so many love him as there do,
And I myself am loved of so few. 
Nay, I have other reasons for my hate: 
He is a fool, and will be reconcil’d
To any foe he hath:  he is too mild,
Too honest for this world, fitter for heaven. 
He will not kill these greedy cormorants,
Nor strip base peasants of the wealth they have! 
He does abuse a thief’s name and an outlaw’s,
And is, indeed, no outlaw nor no thief: 
He is unworthy of such reverend names. 
Besides, he keeps a paltry whimling[271] girl,
And will not bed, forsooth, before he bride. 
I’ll stand to’t, he abuses maidenhead;
That will not take it, being offered,
Hinders the commonwealth of able men. 
Another thing I hate him for again: 
He says his prayers, fasts eves, gives alms, does good: 
For these and such like crimes swears Doncaster
To work the speedy death of Robin Hood.

PRIOR.  Well-said, i’ faith.  Hark, hark! the king returns; To do this deed my heart like fuel burns.

[Exeunt.

Wind horns.  Enter KING, QUEEN, JOHN, FITZWATER, ELY, CHESTER, SALISBURY, LEICESTER, LITTLE JOHN, FRIAR TUCK, SCARLET, SCATHLOCK, and MUCH:  FRIAR TUCK carrying a stag’s head, dancing.

KING.  Gramercy, Friar, for thy glee,
Thou greatly hast contented me: 
What with thy sporting and thy game,
I swear, I highly pleased am.

FRIAR.  It was my master’s whole desire
That maiden, yeoman, swain, and friar,
Their arts and wits should all apply
For pleasure of your majesty.

QUEEN.  Son Richard, look, I pray you, on the ring,
That was about the neck of the last stag.

CHES.  Was his name Scarlet, that shot off his neck?

JOHN.  Chester, it was this honest fellow Scarlet: 
This is the fellow, and a yeoman bold
As ever cours’d the swift hart on the mould.

KING.  Friar, here’s somewhat ’graved upon the ring;
I pray thee read it:  meanwhile, list to me.

    [This while most compassing the FRIAR about the ring.

Scarlet and Scathlock, you bold brethren,
Twelvepence a day I give each for his fee;
And henceforth see ye live like honest men.

BOTH.  We will, my liege, else let us die the death.