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Various

"A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 8"


ROB. H. I will unbind you, with the sheriff's leave.
WAR. Do: help him, Ralph: go to them, Master Friar.
ROB. H. And as ye blew your horns at my son's death,
So will I sound your knell with my best breath:
[_Sounds his horn_.
And here's a blade, that hangeth at my belt,
Shall make ye feel in death what my son felt.
_Enter_ LITTLE JOHN _and_ MUCH.[188] _Fight: the_ FRIAR,
_making as if he helped the_ SHERIFF, _knocks down his men,
crying, Keep the king's peace_!
RAL. O, they must be hanged, father.
ROB. H. Thy master and thyself supply their rooms.
Warman, approach me not! tempt not my wrath,
For if thou do, thou diest remediless.
WAR. It is the outlaw'd Earl of Huntington!
Down with him, Friar! O, thou dost mistake![189]
Fly, Ralph, we die else! let us raise the shire.
[SHERIFF _runs away, and his men_.
FRIAR. Farewell. Earl Robert, as I am true friar,
I had rather be thy clerk than serve the Prior.
ROB. H. A jolly fellow. Scarlet, know'st thou him?
SCAR. He is of York, and of St Mary's cloister,
There where your greedy uncle is Lord Prior.
MUCH. O, murrain on ye! have you two 'scap'd hanging?[190]
Hark ye, my lord: these two fellows kept at Barnsdale
Seven year to my knowledge, and no man[191]--
ROB.


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