My Robin stirs; I must sing him asleep.
ROB. H. Nay, you have wak'd me, Marian, with your talk.
What man is that's come within our walk?
MAR. An aged man, a silly, sightless man,
Near pin'd with hunger: see, how fast he eats.
ROB. H. Much good may't do him: never is good meat
Ill-spent on such a stomach. Father, proface;[206]
To Robin Hood thou art a welcome man.
FITZ. I thank you, master. Are you Robin Hood?
ROB. H. Father, I am.
FITZ. God give your soul much good
For this good meat Maid Marian hath given me.
But hear me, master; can you tell me news,
Where fair Matilda is, Fitzwater's daughter?
ROB. H. Why, here she is; this Marian is she.
FITZ. Why did she change her name?
ROB. H. What's that to thee?
FITZ. Yes, I could weep for grief that it is so,
But that my tears are all dried up with woe.
ROB. H. Why, she is called Maid Marian, honest friend,
Because she lives a spotless maiden life;
And shall, till Robin's outlaw life have end,
That he may lawfully take her to wife;
Which, if King Richard come, will not be long,
For in his hand is power to right our wrong.
FITZ. If it be thus, I joy in her name's change:
So pure love in these times is very strange.
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