Collected Poems Volume II Part 49

ROBIN

Was Huntingdon; but now is Robin Hood.

KNIGHT

If I refuse?

ROBIN

Then, sir, I must perforce Take it. I am an outlaw, but the law Of manhood still constrains me--'tis a matter Of life and death--

KNIGHT

Take it and G.o.d be with you!

I'll follow you to Sherwood with your men.

[_ROBIN seizes the horse, leaps to the saddle, and gallops away._]

[_Curtain._]

SCENE II. _Sherwood Forest. Outside the cave. JENNY, MARIAN and WIDOW SCARLET._

MARIAN

This dreadful waiting! How I wish that Robin Had listened to the rest and stayed with me.

How still the woods are! Jenny, do you think There will be fighting? Oh, I am selfish, mother; You need not be afraid. Robin will bring Will Scarlet safely back to Sherwood. Why, Perhaps they are all returning even now!

Cheer up! How long d'you think they've been away, Jenny, six hours or more? The sun is high, And all the dew is gone.

JENNY

Nay, scarce three hours.

Now don't you keep a-fretting. They'll be back, Quite soon enough. I've scarcely spoke with you, This last three days and more; and even now It seems I cannot get you to myself, Two's quite enough.

[_To WIDOW SCARLET._]

Come, widow, come with me.

I'll give you my own corner in the hut And make you cosy. If you take a nap Will Scarlet will be here betimes you wake.

[_Takes her to the hut and shuts her in._]

There, drat her, for a mumping mumble-crust!

MARIAN

Come, Jenny, that's too bad; the poor old dame Is lonely.

JENNY

She's not lonely when she sleeps, And if I never get you to myself Where was the good of trapesing after you And living here in Sherwood like wild rabbits?

You ha'nt so much as let me comb your hair This last three days and more.

MARIAN

Well, comb it, Jenny, Now, if you like, and comb it all day long; But don't get crabbed, and don't speak so crossly!

[_JENNY begins loosening MARIAN'S hair and combing it._]

JENNY

Why, Mistress, it grows longer every day.

It's far below your knees, and how it s.h.i.+nes!

And wavy, just like Much the Miller's brook, Where it comes tumbling out into the sun, Like gold, red gold.

MARIAN

Ah, that's provoking, Jenny, For you forgot to bring me my steel gla.s.s, And, if you chatter so, I shall soon want it.

JENNY

I've found a very good one at a pinch.

There's a smooth silver pool, down in the stream, Where you can see your face most beautiful.

MARIAN

So that's how Jenny spends her lonely hours, A sad female Narcissus, while poor Much Dwines to an Echo!

JENNY

I don't like those G.o.ds.

I never cared for them. But, as for Much, Much is the best of all the merry men.

And, mistress, O, he speaks so beautifully, It _might_ be just an Echo from blue hills Far, far away! You see he's quite a scholar: Much, more an' most (That's what he calls the three Greasy caparisons--much, more an' most)!

You see they thought that being so very small They could not make him grow to be a man, They'd make a scholar of him instead. The Friar Taught him his letters. He can write his name, And mine, and yours, just like a missal book, In lovely colours; and he always draws The first big letter of JENNY like a tree With naked Cupids hiding in the branches.

Mistress, I don't believe you hear one word I ever speak to you! Your eyes are always That far and far away.

MARIAN

I'm listening, Jenny!

JENNY

Well, when he draws the first big M of yours, He makes it like a bridge from earth to heaven, With white-winged angels pa.s.sing up and down; And, underneath the bridge, in a black stream, He puts the drowning face of the bad Prince Holding his wicked hands out, while a devil Stands on the bank and with a pointed stake Keeps him from landing-- Ah, what's that? What's that?

MARIAN

O Jenny, how you startled me!