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Various

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


Whence grew the quarrel 'twixt the prince and thee?
FITZ. Chester, the devil tempted old Fitzwater
To be a pander to his only daughter;
And my great heart, impatient, forc'd my hand,
In my true honour's right to challenge him.
Alas the while! wrong will not be reprov'd.
CHES. Farewell, Fitzwater: wheresoe'er thou be,
By letters, I beseech thee, send to me.
[_Exit_ CHESTER.
FITZ. Chester, I will, I will.
Heavens turn to good this woe, this wrong, this ill.
[_Exit_.

SCENE II.

_Enter_ SCATHLOCK _and_ SCARLET, _winding their horns,
at several doors. To them enter_ ROBIN HOOD, MATILDA,
_all in green_, SCATHLOCK'S MOTHER, MUCH, LITTLE JOHN:
_all the men with bows and arrows_.
ROB. H. Widow, I wish thee homeward now to wend,
Lest Warman's malice work thee any wrong.
WID. Master, I will; and mickle good attend
On thee, thy love, and all these yeomen strong.
MAT. Forget not, widow, what you promis'd me.
MUCH. O, ay, mistress; for God's sake let's have Jenny.
WID. You shall have Jenny sent you with all speed.
Sons, farewell, and, by your mother's reed,
Love well your master: blessing ever fall
On him, your mistress, and these yeomen tall.


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