The Sad Shepherd, or A Tale of Robin Hood (printed 1641)

Edited by Anne Barton and Eugene Giddens

INTRODUCTION

In Jonsonus Virbius, the collection of tributes to Jonson published in 1638, Lord Falkland asserted that ‘not long before his death our woods he meant / To visit, and descend from Thames to Trent’ (Literary Record, Electronic Edition). Falkland’s poem – which occupies pride of place in the volume – establishes a very late date for The Sad Shepherd, something substantiated by Jonson himself in its Prologue, where he speaks of having ‘feasted’ London audiences ‘these forty years’ (1). Falkland’s word ‘meant’ also suggests, significantly, that it was an intention never completely fulfilled. Falkland himself, the Sir Lucius Cary of Jonson’s great pindaric ode (Und. 70), certainly ought to have known. It is true that unlike Mortimer His Fall, also printed in 1641 among the last pages of F2(3), Jonson’s pastoral (which succeeds two other late plays printed there for the first time) breaks off after two and a half acts with a laconic ‘The End’. Mortimer more informatively had concluded with ‘Left unfinished’ or (in state 2) ‘He died and left it unfinished.’ Mortimer, however, is the most slender of fragments, consisting only of brief Arguments for its proposed five acts, and 69 lines of Act 1. Some such explanation would seem almost mandatory if it were to be printed at all.

There is substantially more of The Sad Shepherd than this, but also a number of internal indications (discrepancies between the action promised in the Arguments and what actually occurs, together with an unusually large number of metrically deficient or otherwise irregular lines) to suggest that it was always an unfinished work, neither completed by the old dramatist nor (it seems likely) its first acts ever fully revised. Certainly the accumulation of lines that defy anything approaching regular scansion – particularly those containing that troublesome name ‘Earine’ – suggest the Jonson who told Drummond that he was accustomed to compose his poems initially in prose, ‘for so his master Camden had learned him’ (Informations, 293). Although, apart from its Arguments, The Sad Shepherd is a verse play throughout, its conversion of dialogue into iambic pentameter sometimes seems rough or incomplete.

Yet this pastoral play is not only lively but, particularly in the speeches given to the sad shepherd of the title, includes passages of great lyrical beauty. For those very reasons, critics committed to the belief that the works of Jonson’s last years were mere ‘dotages’, and this incomplete play too fresh and also ‘Elizabethan’ in feel to be grouped among them, have often wanted to identify it with a much earlier pastoral, The May-lord, about which Jonson talked to Drummond in 1619. Such arguments are not convincing.

The May-lord, according to Drummond’s report, contained a character called Alken, who represented Jonson himself, the Countess of Bedford as Ethra, Sir Thomas Overbury as Mogibell, and the old Countess of Suffolk impersonating an enchantress. Other names (unspecified) were given to Frances Howard, Somerset’s ill-starred wife, to Pembroke, the Countess of Rutland, and Lady Wroth. This has very much the look of an in-group private theatrical, half-masque, half-play, with Jonson (characteristically) enjoying the opportunity of mingling on the same fictional level with some of his aristocratic patrons. If The May-lord was indeed designed as a work for performance, the ‘clowns making mirth and foolish sports’, also mentioned by Drummond, would probably have been professional actors introduced for the occasion; though as argued elsewhere in this edition (5.343-5), it is equally likely that this lost pastoral was designed simply for reading, and was never actually performed. Whatever the case, The May-lord does not sound at all like The Sad Shepherd. There may be an ‘enchantress’ in both, but it is difficult to imagine ‘the old Countess of Suffolk’ playing Maudlin, and coping with Jonson’s idea of northern dialect. ‘Alken’, the only character name common to both, may have been a shadowy Jonson persona in each, but he does not come in ‘mending his broken pipe’, as Drummond reports, in The Sad Shepherd, and the season of year in the play is emphatically June, not May. Nor are there any ‘clowns’ making risible fools of themselves. Most important of all, there is no hint that Robin Hood, Marian, and their ‘family’ were ever part of The May-lord. Although Robin certainly became associated with May games during the early sixteenth century (and indeed acquired Marian and Friar Tuck in that context), the connection was only transitory and never central to his legend.

Jonson seems in his own play to have been far more influenced by the notion, one increasingly prevalent in the sixteenth century, that Robin Hood was not a member of the yeoman class – as he had been in all the medieval tales and ballads – but a gentleman outlawed for debt, or even (as in Chettle and Munday’s plays) an earl. Jonson’s Robin Hood may not be a peer of the realm, but he is certainly (unlike some of the subordinate members of his ‘Family’ (Persons, 3)) a gentleman. Even more important, Jonson has done away with his traditional outlaw status. Maudlin, in her fury, flings the word at him twice in Act 3, together with ‘Thief’ (3.4.46), but there is no indication anywhere in the play that her accusation is true, any more than there is that the stag killed in Sherwood has been illegally poached. Jonson’s Robin Hood does not waylay unsuspecting travellers, nor does he rob. And he seems to move freely outside Sherwood, among the shepherds in the Vale of Belvoir, without fear of apprehension by the law. Maudlin also calls Robin a ‘ranger’ (1.7.4), meaning a forest official, and this on the whole seems more in accord with the life he and his entourage live, as it does with those forest ‘walks’ (1.4.4, 2.7.15) – paths but also, technically, administrative divisions – mentioned more than once in the play. Little John is described in The Persons of the Play as a ‘bow-bearer’ (5), the technical term for a subordinate woodland officer with particular responsibilities, and ‘usher’ (8), ‘steward’ (4), and ‘bailiff, or acater’ (9) there are similarly descriptive of positions normally occupied in a carefully managed aristocratic household.

Jonson’s Robin Hood also seems to have, as important forest officials often did, a substantial and well-equipped dwelling in the heart of the woods – not simply the bower and well traditionally associated with him. There is no suggestion that, like Shakespeare’s Prospero, or his exiled Duke Senior in As You Like It, he is forced to inhabit a cave or ‘cell’. There stood for centuries in Sherwood (it finally collapsed in the 1950s) a huge oak popularly known as ‘Robin Hood’s larder’, because he was supposed to have hung his venison on it to mature. Jonson’s protagonist has rather more sophisticated culinary resources at his disposal – an indoor kitchen with a chimney and chimney-nook, a spit, a dresser on which to lay out the deer, and a cook called ‘Tom’ (2.7.2; not present among The Persons of the Play) whose only apparent function is to prepare meals for Robin, his household, and their guests. Life in this Sherwood, although lived primarily outdoors, is neither beleaguered nor primitive. Its troubles are generated entirely by Maudlin, a malign witch living in the nearby village of Papplewick, who is assisted in her mischief by a son and daughter (Lorel and Douce) and her goblin servant Puck Hairy.

Jonson himself had a first-hand acquaintance with this part of England. Belvoir Castle, south-east of Nottingham, was the seat of the Earl and Countess of Rutland. He celebrated the Countess, Sir Philip Sidney’s daughter, in three of his poems, had probably stayed at the castle more than once before her death in 1612, and stayed there again for four nights on his way north to Edinburgh in the summer of 1618, as is now evident from the recently discovered journal of a young man who travelled with him (see ‘Foot-Voyage in Scotland’, Electronic Edition). In fact, as the journal further reveals, he spent nearly three weeks in or around Sherwood, a guest of the Cavendish family for much of that time, and stayed at Newark, Rufford, Welbeck, and Worksop as well as Belvoir. He also visited, and drank from, the ‘Robin Hood’s Well’ to be found on the Great North Road near Doncaster, one of a number of such wells in this part of the English midlands. Jonson’s own account of his ‘journey into Scotland’ was one of the unpublished works destroyed by the fire of 1623, but his imagination returned to this part of his itinerary over a decade later when he embarked on The Sad Shepherd. He must also have revisited the area in August 1621, when his masque The Gypsies Metamorphosed was performed at Buckingham’s newly acquired property Burley-on-the-Hill, and then two days later at Belvoir.

He may have been listening then to other voices from the past. Drummond’s report that Jonson thought Fletcher’s The Faithful Shepherdess ‘a tragicomedy well done’ (Informations, 170–1) is substantiated by the commendatory poem Jonson contributed to the quarto edition of that play around 1610, commiserating with Fletcher on what seems to have been its resounding failure when first performed in 1608/9. Jonson predicted there that this ‘murdered’ play would eventually become ‘a glorified work’ (‘Fletcher’, 3.372), and that happened probably sooner than he had imagined. In the altered climate of Charles I’s reign Fletcher’s pastoral was revived to great applause, first in 1633 for a court performance at Somerset House, and subsequently at Blackfriars. A new edition had already appeared in 1629, and another followed in 1634, prompted presumably by the recent theatrical success. The Faithful Shepherdess, with its setting in Thessaly, its satyrs and classical gods, is not at all like The Sad Shepherd, but its reappearance might well have turned Jonson’s thoughts towards the composition of a pastoral play of his own (cf. 1.7.0n.).

Another even earlier pastoral also resurfaced at this time. In 1632, Edward Blount assembled six plays by the Elizabethan dramatist John Lyly, all published long before in separate quarto editions, and issued them as Six Court Comedies. Among them was Galatea, a woodland pastoral unusual in being set (like Jonson’s) in a topographically precise part of England – in this case, the Lincolnshire side of the Humber estuary – with which Lyly was personally familiar. Jonson had had enough respect for Lyly to insist in his commendatory poem for the 1623 folio that Shakespeare surpassed him (as he did Kyd and Marlowe) as a dramatist. Now, in the 1630s, if he was impelled by the new collection to reread Galatea, the experience could well have reminded him, not only of the intention he had once had (and confided to Drummond) of locating a pastoral near Loch Lomond, but of another country locale he had visited at about the same time: Sherwood and the Vale of Belvoir, with all their rich associations. He wanted, moreover, as his initial scene heading makes clear, to endow this setting for The Sad Shepherd with as much precise visual realism as a Serlian perspective set could convey. This was not to be a play for Blackfriars, let alone the Globe. Jonson may have had the Cockpit at Court in mind, or the Salisbury Court Theatre, both of which might have accommodated such settings. Beeston’s Phoenix at Drury Lane is also a possibility.

Not surprisingly, given its unfinished state, there is only one record of any early attempt to stage Jonson’s pastoral. Sloane MS 1009, in the British Library, contains a prologue and epilogue composed specially for a performance taking place during the Restoration, probably in some nobleman’s house, before an invited and non-paying audience. Eglamour is described in the Epilogue as ‘well again’ and Earine as ‘returned’, so that some sort of happy ending (probably a wordless mime) must have been imposed on the fragment. It cannot have been very lengthy or detailed. Because no Arguments (however sketchy) survive for Acts 4 and 5, as they do for Mortimer, it remains impossible to tell just how Jonson himself would have resolved the problems posed by Earine’s incarceration in the tree, Maudlin’s beleaguered spitefulness, Amie’s lovesickness, and Eglamour’s despair, let alone finally settled everyone down to that long-delayed venison feast beneath the nosegays and the trees. Presumably, a combination of the ‘sage’ Alken (2 Argument, 28) and that ‘devout hermit’ Reuben (Persons, 25), a character yet to appear in the play, would somehow have coaxed order out of chaos. There is even a strong suggestion that Reuben, described as ‘the Reconciler’ (Persons, 24), was ultimately to have accommodated everyone, including a chastened Maudlin and a more civilized Lorel, at the festive board.

That certainly was the solution pursued by the actor–manager F. G. Waldron when he did attempt to finish the play in 1783. Waldron (who, fourteen years later, was to write a sequel to The Tempest about the difficulties experienced by Prospero, Miranda, and the court party on the voyage back to Naples) was devoid neither of imagination nor dramatic skill. He was a competent poet as well, although no more than that, and sympathetic to Jonson’s play, which he had both edited and annotated. His continuation is already haunted by The Tempest: Puck Hairy serves Maudlin unwillingly, as Ariel did Sycorax and Prospero, and when he reaches the end of his imposed time with her, joyfully recovers his true identity as an angelic spirit, not only defeating her schemes but playing a crucial part in restoring Eglamour – who has attempted to drown himself in the river he believes claimed Earine – to life. Waldron’s Maudlin and Lorel both repent and reform, Karol is joined with Amie, Lionel weds Mellifleur, and the wealthy shepherd Clarion somewhat improbably takes Douce to wife.

Jonson’s final acts, had he lived to write them, cannot have been quite so cheerfully tidy as this, or so glibly persuaded of the all-embracing benevolence of divine providence. (Waldron was very much a man of his time.) Yet Jonson’s The Sad Shepherd clearly was heading towards harmony and a triumph of love akin, despite the unusual forest setting, to that which prevails at the end of his other late works The New Inn and The Magnetic Lady. Another effort to complete The Sad Shepherd was made by Alan Porter in 1935, and performed outdoors at Vassar College in that year by an all-female cast. Like Waldron, Porter not only restored Earine to Eglamour but paired off Karol with Amie, Lionel with Mellifleur, and Clarion with Douce. He avoided the suicidal plunge into the Trent of Waldron’s grief-crazed Eglamour but retained the importance of Reuben, and created additional plot material by transforming Maudlin for a time into the deceiving semblance of Earine. He also re-introduced the ‘outlaw’ status of Robin Hood and his men that Jonson had so carefully obliterated. By 1935 it was probably too deeply embedded in tradition to ignore. At the end of this version a message comes from King Richard pardoning Robin, creating him Earl of Huntingdon, and – anticipating his reluctance to abandon life in Sherwood – appointing him royal Keeper of the forest. Porter, like Waldron, was a man of his time. Both continuations are ingenious, but neither contains poetry on the level of the original Eglamour’s ‘Born with the primrose and the violet, / Or earliest roses blown’ (1.5.46–7), or rings quite true to the play as Jonson left it, irrevocably and forever, halfway through Act 3.

ANNE BARTON

 

The Persons of the Play

[PROLOGUE]
 ROBIN HOOD the chief  woodman, master of the feast
MARIAN his lady, the  mistress

Their  Family
FRIAR TUCK the chaplain and steward 5
 LITTLE JOHN  bow-bearer

SCARLETT


SCATHLOCK


two brothers, hunstmen
 GEORGE A GREEN   usher of the bower
MUCH Robin Hood's  bailiff or  acater 10

 The Guests Invited

CLARION


LIONEL


ALKEN


 EGLAMOUR


 KAROLIN

the rich
the courteous
the sage
the sad
the kind
shepherds


15

MELLIFLEUR


AMIE


 

EARINE

the sweet
the gentle
the beautiful
shepherdesses

 The Troubles Unexpected
20
MAUDLIN the  envious, the witch of  Papplewick
DOUCE the proud, her daughter
 LOREL the  rude, a  swineherd, the witch's son
PUCK HAIRY or Robin Goodfellow, their   hind

 The Reconciler
25
REUBEN a devout  hermit
[WOODMEN and SERVANTS]

  The scene is   Sherwood: consisting of a   landscape of forest, hills, valleys, cottages, a castle, a river, pastures, herds, flocks, all full of country simplicity. Robin Hood’s bower; his well; the witch’s 30   dimble; the   swineherd’s oak; the hermit’s cell.

The Prologue

[Enter PROLOGUE.]

PROLOGUE

   He that hath feasted you  these forty years

And fitted  fables for  your finer ears,

Although at first he scarce could  hit the bore –

 Yet you with patience heark’ning more and more,

At length have grown up to him and made known 5

The working of his pen is now your own –

He prays you would vouchsafe for your own sake

To hear him this once more, but sit awake.

And though he now present you with such  wool

As from mere English flocks his muse can pull, 10

He hopes when it is made up into  cloth

Not the most  curious head here will be loath

To wear a hood of it – it being a fleece

To match  or those of  Sicily or Greece.

His scene is Sherwood, and his play a tale 15

Of Robin Hood’s inviting from the vale

Of   Belvoir all the  shepherds to a  feast,

Where, by the  casual absence of one guest,

The mirth is troubled much, and in one man

 As much of sadness shown as passion can. 20

The sad young  shepherd, whom we here present

 [EGLAMOUR,] the sad shepherd, passeth silently over the stage.

 Like his woe’s figure, dark and discontent

For his lost love, who in the  Trent is said

To have  miscarried. ’Las! What knows the head

Of a calm river whom the  feet have drowned? 25

Hear what his sorrows are, and if they wound

Your gentle breasts, so that  the end crown all,

Which in the  scope of one day’s chance may fall,

 Old Trent will send you more such tales as these

And shall grow young again, as one doth please. 30

 Here the Prologue, thinking to end, returns upon a new purpose and speaks on.

 But here’s an  heresy of late let fall,

That mirth by no means fits a pastoral.

Such say so who can make none, he presumes;

Else there’s no scene more properly assumes

 The sock. For whence can sport  in kind arise 35

But from the  rural routs and families?

Safe on this ground then, we not fear today

To tempt your laughter by our rustic play.

Wherein if we  distaste or be cried down,

We think we therefore shall not leave the town, 40

Nor that the  fore-wits, that would  draw the rest

Unto their liking, always like the best.

The wise and knowing critic will not say

This worst or better is before he  weigh

 Whe’re every piece be perfect in the kind, 45

And then, though  in themselves he difference find,

Yet  if the place require it where they stood,

The equal fitting makes them equal good.

You shall have love and hate and jealousy,

As well as mirth and rage and melancholy, 50

Or whatsoever else may either move

Or stir  affections and your likings prove.

 But that no style for pastoral should go

Current but what is stamped with ‘Ah’ and ‘Oh’,

Who judgeth so may singularly err, 55

As if all poesy had one  character

In which what were not written were not right,

Or that the man who  made such one poor flight

In his whole life had with his wingèd skill

Advanced him upmost on the Muses’ hill, 60

When he  like poet yet remains, as those

 Are painters who can only make a rose.

From such your wits redeem you, or your  chance,

Lest to a greater height you do advance

Of folly, to  contemn those that are known 65

 Artificers and trust such as are none.  [Exit.]

The  Argument of the First Act

Robin Hood, having invited all the  shepherds and shepherdesses of the vale of

 Belvoir to a feast in the forest of Sherwood, and trusting to his  mistress, Maid

Marian, with her woodmen to kill him venison  against the day; having left the

like charge with Friar Tuck, his chaplain and steward, to command the rest

of his merry men to see the bower made ready and all things in order for the 5

entertainment; meeting with his guests at their entrance into the wood, welcomes

and conducts them to his bower. Where by the way he receives the relation of the

sad  shepherd Eglamour, who is  fallen into a deep melancholy for the loss of his

beloved Earine, reported to have been drowned in  passing over the Trent some

few days before. They endeavour  in what they can to comfort him, but, his disease 10

having taken so strong root, all is in vain, and they are forced to leave him. In the

meantime Marian is come from hunting with the huntsmen, where the  lovers

interchangeably express their loves. Robin Hood enquires if she hunted the deer

 at force, and what sport  he made, how long he  stood, and what  head he bore. All

which is briefly answered with a relation of  breaking him up, and the  raven, and 15

her bone.  The suspect had of that raven to be Maudlin, the witch of Papplewick,

whom one of the huntsmen met i’the morning at the  rousing of the deer, and

is confirmed by her being then in  Robin Hood’s kitchen, i’the chimney-corner,

broiling the same bit which was thrown to the raven at the  quarry or  fall of the

deer. Marian, being gone in to show the deer to some of the shepherdesses, returns 20

instantly to the scene discontented, sends away the venison she had killed to her

they call the witch, quarrels with her love Robin Hood, abuseth him and his

guests the  shepherds, and so departs, leaving them all in  wonder and perplexity.

THE SAD SHEPHERD, / OR A TALE OF ROBIN HOOD

1.1   [Enter] EGLAMOUR.

EGLAMOUR

 Here she was wont to go, and here, and here!

Just where those daisies, pinks, and violets grow.

The world may find the spring by following her,

For other print her airy steps ne’er left.

 Her treading would not bend a blade of grass 5

Or shake the downy  blow-ball from his stalk,

But like the soft west wind she shot along,

And where she went the flowers took thickest root,

 As she had sowed ’em with her  odorous foot.

1.2    [Enter] MARIAN, [FRIAR] TUCK, [LITTLE] JOHN, [GEORGE A GREEN, MUCH,] WOODMEN, etc.

[Eglamour stands apart.]

MARIAN

Know you or can you guess, my merry men,

What ’tis that keeps your master Robin Hood

So long both from his Marian and the wood?

FRIAR TUCK

Forsooth,  madam, he will be here by noon

And prays it of your bounty as a boon 5

That you by then have killed him venison some

To feast his jolly friends, who hither come

 In threaves to frolic with him and make cheer.

Here’s Little John hath  harboured you a deer,

I see by his  tackling. 10

LITTLE JOHN

And a  hart  of ten,

I  trow he be, madam, or blame your men.

For by  his slot, his entries, and his port,

His  frayings,  fumets, he doth promise sport

And  standing ’fore the dogs. He bears a head

Large and  well beamed, with all  rights  summed and  spread. 15

MARIAN

Let’s  rouse him quickly and lay on the hounds.

LITTLE JOHN

Scathlock is ready with them on the grounds.

So is his brother Scarlet. Now  they’ve found

His lair, they have him sure within the  pound.

MARIAN

 Away then! When my Robin bids a feast, 20

’Twere sin in Marian to defraud a guest.

[Exeunt Marian, Little John, and  woodmen.]

1.3   TUCK [remains with] GEORGE A GREEN [and] MUCH. EGLAMOUR [stays apart.]

FRIAR TUCK

And I, the chaplain, here am left to be

Steward today and charge you all  in fee

To  don your  liveries,  see the bower dressed,

And fit the fine  devices for the feast.

You, George, must care to make the  baldric  trim 5

And garland that must crown or her, or him,

Whose flock this year hath brought the earliest lamb.

GEORGE

Good Father Tuck, at your commands I am

To cut the table out o’the   greensward

(Or any other service for my lord), 10

To carve the guests large seats, and these laid in

With turf as soft and smooth as the mole’s skin,

And hang the  bullèd nosegays ’bove their heads,

The  pipers’ bank, whereon to sit and play,

And a fair  dial to  mete out the day. 15

Our master’s feast shall  want no just delights;

His entertainments must have all the rites.

MUCH

 Ay, and all choice that plenty can send in:

Bread, wine,  acates, fowl, feather, fish, or fin,

For which  my father’s nets have swept the Trent. 20

  Eglamour falls in with them.

EGLAMOUR

And ha’ you found her?

MUCH

Whom?

EGLAMOUR

My drownèd love,

 Earine, the sweet Earine!

The bright and beautiful Earine!

Have you not heard of my Earine?

 Just by your father’s mills – I think I am right – 25

Are not you Much, the miller’s son?

MUCH

I am.

EGLAMOUR

And  bailey to brave Robin Hood?

MUCH

The same.

EGLAMOUR

Close by your father’s mills, Earine,

Earine was drowned! O, my Earine! –

Old Maudlin tells me so, and Douce, her daughter. – 30

Ha’ you swept the river, say you, and not found her?

MUCH

For fowl and fish we have.

EGLAMOUR

Oh, not for her?

You’re goodly friends, right charitable men!

Nay,  keep your way, and leave me. Make your  toys,

Your tales, your  poesies, that you talked of, all 35

Your entertainments; you not injure me.

Only if I may enjoy my  cypress wreath,

And you will let me weep – ’tis all I ask –

Till I be turned to water, as was she.

And troth, what less suit can you grant a man? 40

TUCK

 [To the others] His  fantasy is hurt; let us now leave him.

The wound is yet too fresh to admit  searching.  [Exit Tuck.]

EGLAMOUR

 Searching? Where should I search, or on what track?

Can my slow drop of tears or this  dark shade

About my brows enough describe her loss? 45

Earine, oh, my Earine’s loss.

No, no, no, no, this heart will break first.

GEORGE

How will this sad disaster strike the ears

Of bounteous Robin Hood, our gentle master!

MUCH

How will it mar his mirth,  abate his feast, 50

And strike a horror into every guest!

 [Exeunt George a Green and Much.]

EGLAMOUR

If I could  knit whole clouds about my brows

And weep like  Swithin, or those  wat’ry signs,

The  kids that rise then, and drown all the flocks

Of those rich shepherds dwelling in this vale – 55

Those careless shepherds that did let her drown –

Then  I did something; or could make old Trent

Drunk with my sorrow,  to start out in breaches,

To drown their herds, their cattle, and their  corn,

Break down their mills, their dams, o’erturn their weirs, 60

And see their houses and whole livelihood

 Wrought into water with her, all were good.

 I’d kiss the torrent and those whirls of Trent

That sucked her in, my sweet Earine.

When they have cast   their body on the shore, 65

And it comes up as tainted as themselves,

All pale and bloodless, I will love it still,

 For all that they can do, and make ’em mad

To see how I will hug it in mine arms,

And hang upon  the looks, dwell on her eyes, 70

Feed round about her lips, and eat her kisses –

Suck  of her drownèd flesh.  And where’s their malice?

Not all their envious  sousing can change that.

But I will  study some revenge past this.

I pray you give me leave, for I will study. 75

Though all the bells,  pipes, tabors,   tambourines ring

That you can plant about me, I will study.

1.4  To  [Eglamour, enter] ROBIN HOOD, CLARION, MELLIFLEUR, LIONEL, AMIE, ALKEN, TUCK, [and]  SERVANTS, with music of all sorts.

  [Eglamour stays apart. ]

ROBIN HOOD

Welcome, bright Clarion and sweet Mellifleur,

The courteous Lionel, fair Amie, all

My friends and neighbours, to the jolly bower

Of Robin Hood and to the  greenwood walks.

Now that the shearing of your sheep is done, 5

And the  washed flocks are  lighted of their wool,

The smoother  ewes are ready to receive

The mounting rams again, and both do feed

 As  either promised to increase your breed

At  eaning time and bring you  lusty twins. 10

Why should or you or we so much forget

The season in ourselves as not to make

Use of our youth and spirits, to awake

The nimble  hornpipe and the  tambourine,

And mix our songs and dances in the wood, 15

And each of us cut down a   triumph-bough?

Such   were the rites the youthful June allow.

CLARION

They were,  gay Robin, but the  sourer sort

Of shepherds now  disclaim in all such sport

And say our flocks the while are poorly fed 20

When with such vanities the swains are led.

TUCK

Would they, wise Clarion, were not hurried more

With  covetise and rage, when to their store

They add the poor man’s  eanling and dare sell

Both fleece and carcass, not gi’ing him the  fell, 25

 When to one goat they reach that  prickly weed

Which maketh all the rest forbear to feed,

Or strew  tods’ hairs or with  their tails do sweep

The dewy grass, to   doff the simpler sheep,

Or dig deep pits, their neighbour’s  neat to vex, 30

To drown the calves and crack the heifers’ necks,

Or, with pretence of chasing thence the  brock,

Send in a cur to  worry the whole flock.

LIONEL

Oh, Friar, those are faults that are  not seen,

Ours open, and of worst example   been: 35

They call ours pagan pastimes that infect

Our blood with ease, our youth with all neglect,

Our tongues with wantonness, our thoughts with lust;

And what they censure ill, all others must.

ROBIN HOOD

I do not know what their sharp sight may see 40

Of late, but I should think it still might be

(As ’twas) a happy age, when on the plains

The woodmen met the damsels, and the swains,

The  neatherds, ploughmen, and the pipers loud,

And each did dance – some to the  kit or  crowd, 45

Some to the bagpipe, some the  tabret moved,

And all did either love or were beloved.

LIONEL

The dextrous shepherd then would try his sling,

Then  dart his hook at daisies, then would sing,

Sometimes would  wrestle.

CLARION

Ay, and with a lass, 50

And give her a  new garment on the grass,

After a  course at  barley-break or  base.

LIONEL

And all these deeds were seen without offence

Or the least hazard o’their innocence.

ROBIN HOOD

Those charitable times had no mistrust. 55

Shepherds knew how to love, and not to lust.

CLARION

 Each minute that we lose thus, I confess,

Deserves a censure on us, more or less;   [Exit Tuck and the servants.]

But that a sadder chance hath given  allay

Both to the mirth and music of this day. 60

Our fairest shepherdess we had of late

Here upon Trent is drowned. For whom her mate,

Young Eglamour, a swain, who best could  tread

Our country dances and our games did lead,

Lives like the  melancholy turtle, drowned 65

Deeper in woe, than she in water, crowned

With  yew and  cypressa, and will scarce admit

The  physic of our presence to his  fit.

LIONEL

Sometimes he sits and thinks all day, then walks,

Then thinks again, and sighs, weeps, laughs, and talks, 70

And ’twixt his  pleasing frenzy and sad grief

Is so distracted, as no  sought relief,

By all our studies, can procure his peace.

CLARION

The passion finds in him  that large increase,

As we doubt hourly we shall lose him too. 75

ROBIN HOOD

You should not  cross him, then, whate’er you do.

For   fant’sy stopped will soon take fire and burn

Into an anger or to a frenzy turn.

CLARION

 Nay, so we are advised by  Alken here,

A good sage shepherd, who, although he wear 80

An old worn hat and cloak, can tell us more

Than all the  forward fry that boast  their lore.

LIONEL

See, yonder comes the brother of the maid,

Young Karolin. How curious and afraid

He is at once, willing to find  him out 85

And loath  t’offend him!

ALKEN

  Sure he’s here about.

1.5   [Enter] KAROLIN. Eglamour sitting upon a bank by.

CLARION

 See where he sits.

EGLAMOUR

It will be rare, rare, rare,

An  exquisite revenge – but peace, no words!

Not for the fairest fleece of all the flock.

If it be known  afore, ’tis all worth nothing.

I’ll carve it on the trees and in the turf, 5

On every   greenswarth and in every path,

Just to the margin of the cruel Trent.

 There will I knock the story in the ground

In smooth great  pebble and moss-fill it round,

Till the whole country read how she was drowned, 10

And with the plenty of salt tears there shed

Quite alter the  complexion of the spring.

Or I will get some old, old grandam thither,

Whose  rigid foot, but dipped into the water,

Shall strike  that sharp and sudden cold throughout 15

As it shall lose all  virtue. And those  nymphs,

Those treacherous  nymphs pulled in Earine,

Shall stand  curled up like images of ice

And never thaw – mark, never! A sharp justice.

Or stay, a better: when the year’s at hottest 20

And that the  dog-star  foams, and the  stream boils,

And curls, and works, and swells ready to  sparkle,

To fling a fellow with a fever in

To set it all on fire, till it burn

 Blue as  Scamander ’fore the walls of Troy 25

When Vulcan leaped into him to consume him.

ROBIN HOOD

A deep hurt  fant’sy.

EGLAMOUR

Do you not approve it?

ROBIN HOOD

Yes, gentle Eglamour, we all approve

And come to  gratulate your just revenge,

Which, since it is so perfect, we now hope 30

You’ll leave all care thereof and mix with us

In all the  proffered solace of the spring.

EGLAMOUR

A spring, now she is dead? Of what? Of thorns,

Briars and brambles, thistles,  burs and   docks,

Cold  hemlock, yew, the mandrake, or the box? 35

These may grow still, but what can spring  beside?

Did not the whole earth sicken when she died?

As if there since did fall one drop of dew

But what was wept for her, or any stalk

Did bear a flower, or any branch a bloom, 40

After her wreath was made! In faith, in faith,

You do not fair to  put these things upon me

Which can in no sort be: Earine,

 Who had her very being and her name

With the first  knots or  buddings of the spring, 45

Born with the primrose and the violet,

Or earliest roses blown; when Cupid smiled,

And Venus led the  Graces out to dance,

And all the flowers and  sweets in Nature’s lap

Leaped out and made their solemn conjuration 50

To last but while she lived. Do not I know

How the vale withered the same day? How  Dove,

Dean, Eye, and  Erewash, Idle, Snite, and Soar,

Each broke his urn, and twenty waters more

That swelled proud Trent shrunk themselves dry? That since, 55

No sun, or moon, or other cheerful star

Looked out of heaven; but all the  cope was dark,

As it were hung so for her exequies,

And not a voice or sound to ring her knell

But of that dismal pair, the  screeching owl 60

And buzzing hornet? Hark, hark, hark, the foul

Bird, how she flutters with her  wicker wings!

Peace, you shall hear her  screech.

CLARION

Good Karolin, sing.

Help to divert this fant’sy.

KAROLIN

All I can.

 [Karolin gives Eglamour] the song, which while Karolin sings, Eglamour reads.

KAROLIN

 Though I am young and cannot tell 65

Either what Death or Love is well,

Yet I have heard they both bear  darts,

And both do aim at human hearts.

And then again I have been told

Love wounds with  heat,  as Death with cold; 70

So that I fear, they do but bring

Extremes  to touch and mean one thing.

As in a  ruin, we it call

One thing to be blown up  or fall,

 Or to our end, like way may have, 75

By a flash of lightning or a wave:

So Love’s enflamèd shaft or  brand

 May kill as soon as Death’s cold hand,

 Except Love’s fires the virtue have

To fright the frost out of the grave. 80

EGLAMOUR

Do you think so? Are you in that good heresy –

I mean opinion? If you be, say nothing.

I’ll study it as a new philosophy,

But by myself alone. Now you shall leave me.

Some of these nymphs here will reward you – this, 85

This pretty maid, although but with a  kiss.

Lived my Earine, you should have twenty;

For every line here, one I would allow ’em

From  mine own store, the treasure I had in her.

 [Eglamour] forces Amie to kiss [Karolin].

 Now I am poor as you.

KAROLIN

 And I a wretch! 90

CLARION

 Yet keep an eye upon him, Karolin.

 Eglamour goes out, and Karolin follows him.

MELLIFLEUR

Alas, that ever such a  generous spirit

As Eglamour’s should sink by such a loss!

CLARION

The truest lovers are least fortunate.

  Look all their lives and legends, what they call 95

The lovers’ scriptures:  Heliodore’s or Tatii,

Longi, Eustathii, Prodomi, you’ll find it.

[To Alken] What think you, father?

ALKEN

I have known some few

And read of more,  who’ve had their dose, and deep,

Of these sharp bitter-sweets.

LIONEL

But what is this 100

To jolly Robin, who the  story is

Of all beatitude in love?

CLARION

And told

Here every day with wonder on the   wold.

LIONEL

And with fame’s voice.

ALKEN

Save that some folk delight

To blend all good of others with some spite. 105

CLARION

He and his Marian are the sum and talk

Of all that breathe here in the greenwood walk.

MELLIFLEUR

Or  Belvoir  Vale.

  LIONEL

 The turtles of the wood.

CLARION

The  billing pair.

ALKEN

And so are understood

For  simple loves and  sampled lives beside. 110

MELLIFLEUR

Faith, so much virtue should not be  envied.

ALKEN

 Better be so than pitied, Mellifleur.

For ’gainst all envy virtue is a cure,

But wretched pity ever calls on scorns.

[Horns sound within.]

The deer’s brought home; I hear it by their horns. 115

1.6   To Robin [Hood] and [the others, enter] MARIAN, [LITTLE] JOHN, [and] SCARLET.

ROBIN HOOD

My Marian, and my mistress!

MARIAN

My loved Robin!

MELLIFLEUR

The moon’s  at full; the happy pair are met.

MARIAN

How hath this morning paid me for my rising,

First with my sports, but most with meeting you.

I did not half  so well reward my hounds, 5

As  she hath me today, although I gave them

All the  sweet morsels:  caul, tongue, ears, and doucets.

ROBIN HOOD

What, and the inchpin?

MARIAN

Yes.

ROBIN HOOD

Your sports then pleased you?

MARIAN

You are a wanton.

ROBIN HOOD

 One, I do confess,

I wanted till you came, but, now I have you, 10

I’ll  grow to your embraces till two souls,

Distillèd into kisses through our lips,

Do make one  spirit of love.

MARIAN

Oh, Robin, Robin!

[They kiss.]

ROBIN HOOD

 Breathe, breathe awhile. What says my gentle Marian?

MARIAN

Could you so long be absent?

ROBIN HOOD

What, a week? 15

Was that so long?

MARIAN

How long are lovers’ weeks,

Do you think, Robin, when they are asunder?

Are they not pris’ners’ years?

ROBIN HOOD

To some they seem so,

But being met again, they’re schoolboys’ hours.

MARIAN

That have got leave to  play, and so we use them. 20

ROBIN HOOD

Had you good sport i’your chase today?

LITTLE JOHN

Oh, prime!

MARIAN

A lusty stag!

ROBIN HOOD

And hunted ye at force?

MARIAN

 In a full cry.

LITTLE JOHN

And never  hunted change.

ROBIN HOOD

You had  staunch hounds, then?

MARIAN

Old and sure; I love

No young rash dogs, no more than changing friends. 25

ROBIN HOOD

What  relays set you?

LITTLE JOHN

None at all; we laid not

In one fresh dog.

ROBIN HOOD

He stood not long then?

SCARLET

 Yes,

Five hours and more – a great, large deer.

ROBIN HOOD

What head?

LITTLE JOHN

 Forkèd, a hart of ten.

MARIAN

He is good venison,

According to the season  i’the blood, 30

I’ll promise all your friends for whom he fell.

LITTLE JOHN

But at his fall there happed a chance.

MARIAN

Worth mark?

ROBIN HOOD

Ay,  what was that sweet Marian? (He kisses her.)

MARIAN

You’ll not hear?

ROBIN HOOD

I love these interruptions in a story.  (He kisses her again.)

They make it sweeter.

MARIAN

You do know, as soon 35

As the  assay is taken –  (He kisses her again.)

ROBIN HOOD

On, my Marian;

I did but  take the assay.

MARIAN

You stop one’s mouth,

And yet you bid  ’em speak. When the   arber’s made –

ROBIN HOOD

Pulled down, and  paunch turned out.

MARIAN

He that undoes him

Doth cleave the  brisket-bone, upon the spoon 40

Of which a little gristle grows; you call it –

ROBIN HOOD

The raven’s bone.

MARIAN

Now, o’erhead  sat a raven

On a  sere bough – a grown great bird, and hoarse –

Who, all the while the deer was breaking up,

So croaked and cried for’t, as all the huntsmen, 45

Especially old Scathlock, thought it ominous,

Swore it was Mother Maudlin, whom he met

At the day-dawn just as he roused the deer

Out of his lair; but we  made shift to run him

Off his four legs, and  sunk him ere we left. 50

[Enter] SCATHLOCK.

Is the deer come?

SCATHLOCK

He lies within  o’the dresser.

MARIAN

Will you go see him, Mellifleur?

MELLIFLEUR

I attend you.

MARIAN

Come, Amie, you’ll go with us?

AMIE

I am not well.

LIONEL

She’s sick o’the young shepherd that bekissed her.

MARIAN

 Friend, cheer your friends up. We will eat him merrily. 55

 [Exeunt Marian, Mellifleur, and Amie.]

ALKEN

[To Scathlock] Saw you the raven, friend?

SCATHLOCK

 Ay,   qua suld let me?

I suld be afraid  o’you sir, suld I?

CLARION

Huntsman,

A dram more of civility would not hurt you.

ROBIN HOOD

Nay, you must  give  them all their rudenesses.

They are not else themselves without their language. 60

ALKEN

[To Scathlock] And what do you think of her?

SCATHLOCK

As of a witch.

They call her a  wise woman, but I think her

An arrant witch.

CLARION

And wherefore think you so?

SCATHLOCK

Because I saw her since broiling the bone

Was cast her at the quarry.

ALKEN

Where saw you her? 65

SCATHLOCK

I’the  chimley  nuik within; she’s there now.

ROBIN HOOD

Marian!

1.7   To them [MAUDLIN disguised as]  Marian.

ROBIN HOOD

Your  hunt  holds in his tale, still, and tells more.

MAUDLIN

 My hunt? What tale?

ROBIN HOOD

How,  cloudy Marian!

What look is this?

MAUDLIN

A fit one, sir, for you. [Robin touches her.]

Hand off, rude  ranger.  (To Scathlock)  Sirrah, get you in

And bear the venison hence. It is too good 5

For these coarse rustic mouths that cannot open

Or spend a  thank for’t. A starved mutton’s carcass

Would better fit their palates. See it carried

To Mother Maudlin’s, whom you call the witch, sir.

Tell her I sent it to make merry with; 10

She’ll  ’turn us thanks at least. Why stand’st thou,  groom?

 [Exit Scathlock.]

ROBIN HOOD

I wonder he can move, that he’s not fixed,

If that his feeling be the same with mine.

I dare not trust the faith of mine own senses.

I  fear mine eyes and ears. This is not Marian, 15

Nor am I Robin Hood. I pray you ask her,

Ask her, good shepherds, ask her all for me,

Or rather ask yourselves, if she be she,

Or I be I.

MAUDLIN

Yes, and you are the spy,

And the  spied spy, that watch upon my walks 20

To inform what deer I kill or give away;

Where, when, to whom. But spy your worst, good spy;

I will dispose of this where least you like.

 Fall to your  cheesecakes, curds, and clotted cream,

Your fools, your  flawns, and of ale a stream 25

To wash it from your livers. Strain ewe’s milk

Into your cider  syllabubs and be drunk

To him whose  fleece hath brought the earliest lamb

This year, and wears the   baldric at your  board,

Where you may all  go whistle and record 30

 This i’your dance and  foot it lustily.  She leaves them.

ROBIN HOOD

I pray you, friends, do you hear and see as I do?

Did the same accents strike your ears, and objects

Your eyes, as mine?

ALKEN

We taste the same reproaches.

LIONEL

Have seen the changes.

ROBIN HOOD

Are we not all changed, 35

Transformèd from ourselves?

LIONEL

I do not know;

The best is silence.

ALKEN

And to await the issue.

ROBIN HOOD

The dead or lazy wait for’t; I will find it.  [Exeunt.]

The Argument of the Second Act

The witch, Maudlin, having taken the shape of Marian to  abuse Robin Hood

and perplex his guests, cometh forth with her daughter, Douce, reporting in

what confusion she hath left them: defrauded them of their venison; made them

suspicious each of the other; but most of all Robin Hood so  jealous of his Marian,

as she hopes no effect of love would ever reconcile them; glorying so far in the 5

extent of her mischief, as she confesseth to have surprised Earine, stripped her of

her garments to make her daughter appear fine at this feast in them, and to have

 shut the maiden up in a tree as her son’s prize, if he could win her, or his prey, if he

would force her. Her son, a rude bragging  swineherd, comes to the tree to woo her

(his mother and sister stepping aside to overhear him) and first boasts his wealth 10

to her and his possessions, which  move not. Then he presents her gifts  such as

himself is taken with, but she utterly shows a scorn and loathing both of him and

them. His mother is angry,  rates him, instructs him what to do the next time,

and persuades her daughter to show herself about the bower, tells how she shall

know her mother, when she is transformed, by her  broidered belt. Meanwhile the 15

young  shepherdess Amie, being kissed by Karolin, Earine’s brother, before, falls

in love, but knows not what love is, but describes her disease so innocently that

Marian pities her. When Robin Hood and the rest of his guests invited enter to

Marian, upbraiding her with sending away their venison to Mother Maudlin by

Scathlock, which she denies, Scathlock affirms it, but seeing his mistress weep and 20

to foreswear it, begins to doubt his own understanding rather than affront her

 farther, which makes Robin Hood and the rest to examine themselves better. But

Maudlin, entering  like herself, the witch, comes to thank her for her bounty. At

which, Marian is more angry and more denies the deed. Scathlock enters, tells he

has brought  it again and delivered it to the cook. The witch is  inwardly vexed the 25

venison is so recovered from her by the rude huntsman, and murmurs and curses,

bewitches the cook, mocks poor Amie and the rest,  discovereth her ill nature, and

is a  mean of reconciling them all. For  the sage shepherd suspecteth her mischief if

she be not prevented and so persuadeth to seize on her. Whereupon Robin Hood

dispatcheth out his woodmen to hunt and take her, which ends the act. 30

2.1   [Enter] MAUDLIN [as herself and] DOUCE [in the garments of Earine.]

MAUDLIN

Have I not left ’em in a  brave confusion,

Amazed their expectation, got their venison,

Troubled their mirth and meeting, made them doubtful

And jealous of each other, all distracted,

And, i’the  close, uncertain of themselves? 5

This can your mother do, my dainty Douce,

Take any shape upon her and delude

The  senses best acquainted with their owners.

The jolly Robin, who hath bid this feast

And made this  solemn invitation, 10

I ha’ possessèd so with   sic dislikes

Of his own Marian that,  albe’ he know her

As doth the   vaulting hart his  venting  hind,

He  ne’er  fra hence sall   nese her i’the wind

To his first liking.

DOUCE

Did you so   distaste him? 15

MAUDLIN

As far as her proud scorning him could  bate

Or blunt the edge of any lover’s temper.

DOUCE

But were ye like her, mother?

MAUDLIN

So like, Douce,

 As, had she seen me hersel’, hersel’ had doubted

 Whether had been the  liker  of the   twa. 20

This can your mother do, I tell you, daughter.

I ha’ but  dight ye, yet, i’the  out-dress

And ’parel of Earine, but this raiment,

These very  weeds, sall make ye, as but coming

In view or  ken of Eglamour, your form 25

Shall  show too  slippery to be looked upon,

And all the forest swear you to be she.

They shall  rin after ye and  wage the odds

Upo’ their own deceivèd sights  ye are her,

Whilst she, poor lass, is  stocked up in a tree, 30

Your brother Lorel’s prize. For so my  largesse

Hath  lotted her to be your brother’s  mistress

 Gif she can be  reclaimed, gif not, his prey.

And here he comes new  claithèd like a prince

Of  swineherds,  sic he seems, dight  i’the spoils 35

Of those he feeds, a mighty lord of swine!

He is   comand now to woo. Let’s step aside

And hear his love-craft.  See, he  opes the door

And takes her by the hand and helps her forth.

This is true courtship and becomes his  ’ray. 40

2.2    LOREL [enters and opens the tree for] EARINE. MAUDLIN [and] DOUCE [stand aside.]

LOREL

Ye kind to others, but ye coy to me,

 Deft mistress, whiter than the  cheese new pressed,

Smoother than cream, and softer than the curds:

Why start ye from me ere ye hear me tell

My wooing errand and what  rents I have, 5

Large herds and pastures, swine and  kye, mine own?

And though my   nase be  camussed, my lips thick,

And my chin  bristled, Pan, great  Pan, was such,

Who was the chief of herdsmen and our sire.

I am  na  fay, na  incubus, na  changelin’, 10

But a good man that lives  o’ my awn gear.

This house, these grounds, this  stock is all mine awn.

EARINE

How better ’twere to me this were not known!

MAUDLIN

[Aside] She likes it not, but it is boasted well.

LOREL

An hundred udders for the pail I have 15

That gi’ me milk and curds, that make me cheese

To  cloy the  mercats; twenty swarm of bees,

 Whilk all the summer hum about the hive

And bring me wax and honey in  by live;

 An agèd oak, the king of all the field, 20

With a broad beech there grows afore my  dur,

That  mickle  mast unto the  ferm doth yield;

A chestnut, whilk hath  larded   mony a swine,

Whose skins I wear to fend me  fra the cold;

A poplar green and with a  kervèd seat, 25

Under whose shade I solace in the heat,

And thence can see   gaing out and in my neat.

 Twa trilland brooks, each from his spring doth meet

And make a river to refresh my feet,

In which each morning ere the sun doth rise 30

 I look myself and clear my pleasant eyes

Before I pipe – for therein I have skill

’Bove other  swineherds. Bid me, and I will

 Straight play to you and make you melody.

EARINE

By no means. Ah, to me all minstrelsy 35

Is irksome, as are you.

LOREL

Why scorn you me?

Because I am a herdsman and feed swine?

  He draws out other presents.

I am a lord of other gear, this fine

Smooth  bauson’s cub, the young  grice of a grey,

Twa tiny   urchins, and this ferret  gay. 40

EARINE

 Out on ’em! What are these?

LOREL

I give ’em ye

As presents, mistress.

EARINE

Oh,  the fiend and thee!

 Gar take them hence; they  fewmand all the claithes

And  prick my coats. Hence with ’em,  limmer  lown,

Thy vermin and  thyself! Thyself art one! 45

  Ay, lock me up; all’s well when thou art gone.

[ Lorel returns her to the tree.]

2.3   MAUDLIN [and] DOUCE [come forward].

LOREL

Did you hear this? She wished me at the fiend

With all my presents.

MAUDLIN

A  too lucky end

She  wishend thee, foul limmer,  dritty lown!

 Gud faith, it  duils me that I am thy mother;

And see, thy sister scorns thee for her brother. 5

Thou woo thy love, thy mistress, with twa hedgehogs,

A  stinkand brock, a  polecat? Out, thou  howlet!

Thou shouldst ha’ given her a  madge-owl, and then

 Thou’dst made a present o’thyself,  owl-spiegle!

DOUCE

Why mother, I have heard ye bid to give, 10

And often, as the cause calls.

MAUDLIN

I know well

It is a  witty part sometimes to give.

But what, to  whame? No monsters, nor to maidens.

 He suld present  them with  mare pleasand things,

Things natural and what all  woemen covet 15

To see –  the common parent of us all,

Which maids will  twire at ’tween their fingers, thus.

[She peers through her fingers.]

 With which his sire  gat him,  he’s get another,

And so beget posterity upon her.

This he should do – false  gelden!  Gang thy gait 20

And  do thy  turns, betimes, or   I’s gar take

Thy new  breeks fra thee and thy  duiblet too.

The   tallor and the  sowter sall  undo

All they ha’ made,  except thou manlier woo.  Lorel goes out.

DOUCE

Gud mother, gif yow chide him, he’ll do  wairs. 25

MAUDLIN

Hang him, I  geif him to the  devil’s  erse.

But ye, my Douce, I charge ye show  yoursel’

 To all the  sheep’ards  baudly –  gaing amang ’em,

Be mickle i’their eye,  frequent, and  fugeand.

And gif they ask ye of Earine 30

Or of these claithes, say that I  ga’ ’em ye,

And say no more. I ha’ that wark in hand,

That web upo’ the  loom,  sall gar ’em think

By then – they feelin’ their own frights and fears –

 I’s pu’ the world, or Nature, ’bout their ears. 35

But hear ye, Douce:  because ye may meet me

In mony shapes  today, where’er you spy

This  browdred belt with  characters, ’tis I.

A  Gypsan lady, and a  right beldam,

Wrought it by moonshine for me and  starlight, 40

Upo’ your  gran’am’s grave that very night

We  earthed her in the  shades, when our dame  Hecate

Made it her  gaing-night over the  kirkyard,

 With all the   barkand parish  tykes set at her,

While I   sat whirland of my brazen  spindle. 45

 At every twisted  thrid, my  rock let fly,

Unto the  sewster who did sit me nigh,

Under the town  turnpike, which ran each spell

She stitchèd in the work and knit it well.

See ye  take tent to this and  ken your mother. 50 [Exeunt.]

2.4  [Enter] MARIAN, MELLIFLEUR, [and] AMIE.

MARIAN

How do you sweet Amie, yet?

MELLIFLEUR

She cannot tell.

If she could sleep, she says, she should do well.

She feels a hurt, but where? She cannot show

Any least sign that she is hurt or no.

Her pain’s not doubtful to her, but the seat 5

Of her pain is. Her thoughts, too, work and  beat,

Oppressed with cares, but why, she cannot say.

All matter of her care is quite away.

MARIAN

[To Amie] Hath any  vermin broke into your fold,

Or any  rot seized on your flock, or cold? 10

Or hath your   fighting ram burst his hard horn,

Or any ewe her fleece or  bag hath torn,

My gentle Amie?

AMIE

Marian, none of these.

MARIAN

Ha’ you been stung by wasps or angry bees,

Or  razed with some rude bramble or rough briar? 15

AMIE

No, Marian, my disease is somewhat  nigher.

I weep and boil away myself in tears,

And then my panting heart would dry those fears.

I burn, though all the forest lend a shade,

And freeze, though the whole wood one fire were made. 20

MARIAN

 Alas!

AMIE

I often have been torn with thorn and briar,

Both in the leg and foot and  somewhat higher,

Yet gave not then such fearful shrieks as these. Ah!

I often have been stung, too, with  curst bees, 25

Yet not remember that I then did quit

Either my company or mirth for it. Ah!

And therefore, what it is that I feel now

And know no cause of it, nor where nor how

It entered in me, nor least  print can see, 30

I feel afflicts me more than briar or bee. Oh!

How often when the sun, heaven’s brightest  birth,

Hath with his burning fervour  cleft the earth,

Under a spreading elm or oak hard by

A cool clear fountain, could I sleeping lie 35

Safe from the heat. But now, no shady tree

Nor  purling brook can my refreshing be.

Oft when the meadows were grown rough with frost,

The rivers ice-bound and their currents lost,

My thick warm fleece I wore was my defence, 40

Or large good fires I made  drave winter thence.

But now, my whole flock’s  fells nor this thick grove

Enflamed to ashes can my cold remove.

 It is a cold and heat that doth outgo

All sense of winters and of summers so. 45

2.5  [Enter] ROBIN HOOD, CLARION, LIONEL, [and] ALKEN.

ROBIN HOOD

  Oh, are you here, my mistress?

She, seeing him, runs to embrace him.

MARIAN

I, my love.

Where should I be, but in my Robin’s arms,

 The sphere which I delight in, so to move?

ROBIN HOOD

 What, the rude ranger and spied spy? Hand off;

[He puts her back.]

You are for no such rustics.

MARIAN

What means this, 5

 Thrice worthy Clarion or wise Alken? Know ye?

ROBIN HOOD

’Las, no, not they. A poor  starved mutton’s carcass

Would better fit their palates than your venison.

MARIAN

What riddle is this?  Unfold yourself, dear Robin.

ROBIN HOOD

You ha’ not sent your venison hence by Scathlock 10

To Mother Maudlin?

MARIAN

I to Mother Maudlin?

Will Scathlock say so?

ROBIN HOOD

Nay, we will all swear so,

For all did hear it when you gave the  charge so,

 Both Clarion, Alken, Lionel, myself.

MARIAN

Good honest  shepherds, masters of your flocks, 15

Simple and virtuous men, no others’ hirelings,

 Be not you made to speak against your conscience

That which may soil the truth. I send the venison

Away? By Scathlock? And to Mother Maudlin?

I came to show it here to Mellifleur, 20

I do confess, but Amie’s falling ill

Did put us  off it;   since, we employed ourselves

In comforting of her.

 SCATHLOCK enters.

Oh, here he is! –

Did I, sir, bid you bear away the venison

To Mother Maudlin?

SCATHLOCK

  I’ gud faith,  madam, 25

Did you, and I  ha’ done it.

MARIAN

What ha’ you done?

SCATHLOCK

Obeyed your  hests, madam, done your commaunds.

MARIAN

Done my commaunds, dull groom? Fetch it again,

Or  kennel with the hounds. – Are these the arts,

Robin, you  read your rude ones o’the wood 30

To  countenance your quarrels and mistakings?

 Or are the sports to entertain your friends

Those  formèd jealousies? Ask of Mellifleur

If I were ever from her, here, or Amie,

Since I came in with them, or saw this Scathlock 35

Since I related to you his tale o’the raven.

SCATHLOCK

Ay, say you so?   Scathlock goes out.

MELLIFLEUR

She never left my side

Since I came in here, nor I hers.

CLARION

This’s strange.

Our best of senses were deceived, our eyes, then.

LIONEL

And ears too.

MARIAN

 What you have concluded on 40

Make good, I pray you.

AMIE

Oh, my heart, my heart!

MARIAN

My heart it   is, is wounded, pretty Amie.

Report not you your griefs; I’ll tell for all.

MELLIFLEUR

Somebody is to blame; there is a fault.

MARIAN

Try if you can take rest. A little slumber 45

Will much refresh you, Amie. 

[Amie lies down.]

ALKEN

What’s her grief?

MARIAN

She does not know, and therein she is happy.

2.6   To them [enter LITTLE] JOHN, MAUDLIN, and SCATHLOCK  after.

LITTLE JOHN

Here’s Mother Maudlin come to give you thanks,

Madam, for some  late gift she hath  received,

Which she’s not worthy of, she says, but  crakes

And wonders of it, hops about the house,

Transported with the joy.

MAUDLIN

 (She danceth.)  Send me a stag, 5

A whole stag, madam! And so fat a deer,

So fairly hunted, and at such a time, too,

 When all your friends were here!

ROBIN HOOD

Do you mark this, Clarion,

Her own acknowledgement?

MAUDLIN

’Twas such a bounty 10

And honour done to your poor  beadswoman,

I know not how to  owe it, but to thank you,

And that I come to  do. I shall  go round

And giddy with the   toy of the good  turn.

  She turns round [while delivering the following lines], till she falls.

Look out, look out, gay folk about, 15

And see me spin. The ring  I’m in

Of mirth and glee with thanks for fee

The heart puts on for th’venison

My lady sent, which shall be spent

In draughts of wine  to fume up fine 20

Into the brain and down again.

Fall in a   swoon upo’ the  groun’. [She falls.]

ROBIN HOOD

Look to her! She is mad.

MAUDLIN

[Rising] My son hath sent you

A pot of strawberries gathered i’the wood –

His hogs would else have rooted up or trod – 25

With a choice dish of  wildings here to  scald

And mingle with your cream.

MARIAN

Thank you good  Maudlin,

And thank your son. [To Little John] Go, bear ’em in to Much,

Th’acater, let him thank her.  [Exit Little John.]

Surely, mother,

You were mistaken, or my woodmen more, 30

Or most myself, to send you all our store

Of venison, hunted for ourselves, this day.

You will not  take it, mother, I dare say,

If  we’d entreat you, when you know our guests.

Red deer is head still of the forest feasts. 35

MAUDLIN

But I  knaw ye, a right free-hearted lady,

Can spare it out of superfluity.

I have  departit it ’mong my poor neighbours

To  speak your largesse.

MARIAN

I not gave it, mother;

You have done wrong, then. I know how to place 40

My gifts and where, and when to find my seasons

To give, not throw away my courtesies.

MAUDLIN

Count you this thrown away?

MARIAN

What’s  ravished from me

 I count it worse: as stol’n.  I lose my thanks.

But leave this  quest. They fit not you nor me, 45

Maudlin, contentions of this  quality.

 SCATHLOCK enters.

How now?

SCATHLOCK

Your stag’s returned upon my shoulders.

He has found his way into the kitchen again,

With his  two legs, if now your cook can  dress him.

 ’Slid, I thought the  swineherd would ha’ beat me, 50

He looks so  big, the sturdy  carl,  lewd Lorel.

 Marian gives him gold.

MARIAN

There, Scathlock, for thy pains; thou hast deserved it.

MAUDLIN

Do you give a thing and take a thing, madam?

MARIAN

 No, Maudlin, you had imparted to your neighbours;

As much good do’t them. I ha’ done no wrong. 55

 The first charm

MAUDLIN

The spit stand still! No  broaches turn

Before the fire, but let it burn

Both sides and haunches, till the whole

Converted be into one coal!

CLARION

What  devil’s paternoster mumbles she? 60

ALKEN

Stay, you will hear more of her witchery.

 The second charm

MAUDLIN

The  swilland  dropsy enter in

The lazy  cuke, and swell his skin,

And the old  mortmal on his shin

Now prick and itch  withouten blin. 65

CLARION

Speak out, hag,  we may hear your devil’s  matins.

 The third charm

MAUDLIN

The  pain we call  Saint Anton’s fire,

The gout, or what we can desire

To cramp a cuke in every limb,

Before they dine yet, seize on him! 70

ALKEN

A foul ill spirit hath possessèd her.

AMIE

[From her sleep] Oh, Karol, Karol! – Call him back again!

LIONEL

Her thoughts do work upon her in her slumber

And may express some part of her disease.

ROBIN HOOD

Observe and mark, but trouble not her ease. 75

AMIE

[Waking]  Oh, oh!

MARIAN

How is’t, Amie?

MELLIFLEUR

Wherefore start you?

AMIE

  Oh, Karol! He is fair and sweet.

MAUDLIN

 What then?

Are there not flowers as sweet and fair as men?

The lily is fair, and rose is sweet.

AMIE

 Ay, so!

Let all the roses and the lilies go; 80

 Karol is only fair to me.

MARIAN

And why?

AMIE

Alas, for Karol, Marian, I could die.

 Karol! He singeth sweetly too.

MAUDLIN

What then?

Are there not birds sing sweeter far than men?

AMIE

I grant the linnet, lark, and bullfinch sing, 85

But best, the dear good  angel of the spring,

The  nightingale.

MAUDLIN

Then why, then why alone

Should his notes please you?

AMIE

I not long  agone

Took a delight with wanton kids to play,

And sport with little lambs a summer’s day, 90

And view their frisks. Methought it was a sight

Of joy to see my two brave rams to fight.

Now Karol only, all delight doth move.

All that is Karol, Karol I approve.

 This very morning but, I did bestow – 95

It was a little ’gainst my will, I know –

A single kiss upon the   silly swain,

And now I  wish that very kiss again.

His lip is softer, sweeter than the rose;

His mouth and tongue with dropping honey flows. 100

The  relish of it was a pleasing thing.

MAUDLIN

Yet like the bee’s, it had a little sting.

AMIE

And sunk and sticks yet in my marrow deep,

And what doth hurt me, I now wish to keep.

MARIAN

Alas, how innocent her story is! 105

AMIE

I do remember, Marian, I have oft

With pleasure kissed my lambs and puppies soft,

And once a dainty fine  roe fawn I had,

Of whose  out-skipping bounds I was as glad

As of my health, and him I oft would kiss, 110

Yet had  his no such sting or pain as this.

They never pricked or hurt my heart. And,  for

They were so blunt and dull, I  wish no more.

But this that hurts and pricks doth please; this sweet

Mingled with sour I wish again to meet, 115

And that delay, methinks, most tedious is

That keeps or hinders me of Karol’s kiss.

MARIAN

We’ll send for him, sweet Amie, to come to you.

MAUDLIN

 But I will keep him  off if charms will do it.  She goes murmuring out.

CLARION

Do you mark the murmuring hag, how she doth mutter? 120

ROBIN HOOD

I like her not, and less her manners now.

ALKEN

She is a  shrewd, deformèd  piece, I vow.

LIONEL

As crooked as her body.

ROBIN HOOD

I believe

She can take any shape, as Scathlock says.

ALKEN

She may deceive the sense, but  really 125

She cannot change herself.

ROBIN HOOD

Would I could see her

Once more in Marian’s form. For I am certain

Now it was she abused us, as I think

My Marian, and my love, now innocent,

Which faith I seal unto her with this kiss, 130

And call you all to witness of my penance.

[He kisses Marian.]

ALKEN

It was believed before, but now confirmed,

That we have seen the monster.

2.7   To them [enter] TUCK, [little] JOHN, MUCH, [and] SCARLET.

TUCK

Hear you how

Poor Tom, the cook, is taken! All his joints

Do crack as if his limbs were tied with  points.

His whole frame slackens, and a kind of  rack

Runs down along the  spondyles of his back. 5

A gout or cramp  now seizeth on his head,

Then falls into his feet. His knees are lead,

And he can stir  his either hand no more

 Than a dead stump to his office, as before.

ALKEN

He is bewitched.

CLARION

This is  an argument 10

Both of her malice and her power, we see.

ALKEN

She must by some  device restrainèd be,

Or she’ll go far in mischief.

ROBIN HOOD

Advise how,

Sage  shepherd; we shall put it straight in practice.

ALKEN

Send forth your woodmen, then, into the  walks, 15

Or let ’em   prick her footing hence. A witch

Is sure a  creature of melancholy

And will be found  or sitting in her  form

Or else  at  relief like a hare.

CLARION

You speak,

Alken, as if you knew the sport of witch-hunting, 20

Or  starting of a hag.

  Enter GEORGE [A GREEN] to the huntsmen, who by themselves continue the scene, the rest going off.

ROBIN HOOD

Go, sirs, about it.

Take George here with you; he can help to find her.

Leave Tuck and Much behind to dress the dinner

I’the cook’s stead.

MUCH

We’ll care to get that done.

ROBIN HOOD

Come, Marian, let’s withdraw into the bower. 25

[ Exeunt Robin Hood, Marian, Alken, Clarion, and Tuck.]

2.8   [Little]  John, Scarlet, Scathlock, [and] George [remain].

LITTLE JOHN

Rare sport, I swear, this hunting of the witch

Will make us.

SCARLET

Let’s  advise upon’t like huntsmen.

GEORGE

 An we can spy her once, she is our own.

SCATHLOCK

 First, think which way she  formeth, on what wind,

Or north, or south.

GEORGE

For, as the shepherd said, 5

 A witch is a kind of hare.

SCATHLOCK

And  marks the weather,

As the hare does.

LITTLE JOHN

Where shall we hope to find her?

 ALKEN returns.

ALKEN

 I have asked leave to assist you, jolly huntsmen,

If an old shepherd may be heard among you,

Not jeered or laughed at.

LITTLE JOHN

 Father, you will see 10

Robin Hood’s household know  more courtesy.

SCATHLOCK

Who scorns at  eld,  peels  off his own young hairs.

ALKEN

Ye say right well. Know ye the witch’s  dell?

SCARLET

No more than I do know the walks of hell.

ALKEN

 Within a gloomy  dimble she doth dwell, 15

Down in a pit o’ergrown with  brakes and briars,

Close by the ruins of a  shaken abbey

Torn with an earthquake down unto the ground,

’Mongst graves and  grots, near an old charnel house,

Where you shall find her sitting in her form 20

As fearful and  melancholic as  that

She is about, with caterpillars’  kells

And knotty cobwebs,  rounded in with spells.

Thence she steals forth to relief in the fogs

And rotten mists, upon the fens and bogs, 25

Down to the drownèd lands of  Lincolnshire,

To make ewes  cast their lambs, swine eat their  farrow,

The housewife’s  tun not work, nor the milk churn,

 Writhe children’s wrists and  suck their breath in sleep,

 Get vials of their blood, and, where the sea 30

Casts up his slimy ooze, search for a  weed

To open locks with, and to  rivet charms,

Planted about her, in the wicked  feat

Of all her mischiefs, which are manifold.

LITTLE JOHN

I wonder such a story could be told 35

Of her dire deeds.

GEORGE

I thought a  witch’s banks

Had enclosed nothing but the merry pranks

Of some old woman.

SCARLET

 Yes, her malice more.

SCATHLOCK

 As it would quickly appear, had we the store

Of  his  collects.

GEORGE

Ay, this   good learnèd man 40

Can speak her right.

SCARLET

He knows her  shifts and haunts.

ALKEN

And all her wiles and turns: the venomed plants

Wherewith she kills, where the sad mandrake grows

Whose groans are deathful, the  dead-numbing  nightshade,

The stupefying  hemlock,  adder’s tongue, 45

And   martagon, the shrieks of  luckless owls

We hear, and croaking night-crows in the air,

Green-bellied snakes,  blue  firedrakes in the sky,

And giddy  flitter-mice with leather wings,

The scaly beetles with their  habergeons 50

That make a humming murmur as they fly.

There in the stocks of trees white fays do dwell

And  span-long elves that dance about a pool,

With each a little changeling in their arms.

The airy spirits play with falling stars 55

And mount the  sphere of fire to kiss the moon,

While she sits reading by the glow-worm’s light

 (Or  rotten wood o’er which the worm hath crept)

The baneful schedule of her  nocent charms

And binding characters, through which she wounds 60

Her  puppets, the  sigilla of her witchcraft.

All this I know, and I will find her for you

And show  you her, sitting in her form. I’ll lay

My hand upon her, make her throw her  scut

Along her back, when she doth start before us. 65

But you must give her  law, and you shall see her

Make twenty  leaps and doubles, cross the paths,

And then squat down beside us.

LITTLE JOHN

Crafty crone!

I long to be at the sport and to report it.

SCARLET

We’ll make this hunting of the witch as famous 70

As any other  blast of venery.

SCATHLOCK

Hang her, foul hag! She’ll be a  stinking chase.

I had rather ha’ the hunting of  her  heir.

GEORGE

If we could come to see her, cry ‘ so haw’ once!

ALKEN

That I do promise, or  I’m no good hag-finder. 75 [Exeunt.]

The Argument of the Third Act

Puck Hairy  discovers himself in the forest and  discourseth his offices, with their

necessities, briefly. After which, Douce, entering in the  habit of Earine, is pursued

by Karol, who, mistaking her at first to be his sister, questions her how she came by

those garments. She answers, by her mother’s gift. The sad shepherd coming in the

while, she runs away affrighted and leaves Karol suddenly. Eglamour, thinking 5

it to be Earine’s ghost he saw, falls into a melancholic expression of his  fant’sy

to Karol and questions him sadly about that point, which moves compassion in

Karol  of his mistake still. When Clarion and Lionel enter to call Karol to Amie,

Karol reports to them Eglamour’s passion with much  regret. Clarion resolves to

seek him, Karol to return with Lionel. By the way, Douce and her mother (in 10

the shape of Marian) meet them and would divert them, affirming Amie to be

recovered, which Lionel wondered at to be so soon. Robin Hood enters. They tell

him the relation of the witch (thinking her to be Marian). Robin, suspecting her

to be Maudlin, lays hold of her girdle suddenly, but she striving to get free, they

both run out, and he returns with the belt broken. She, following in her own 15

shape, demanding it (but at a distance, as fearing to be seized upon again), and

seeing she cannot recover it, falls into a rage and cursing, resolving to trust to

her old arts, which she calls her   daughter to assist in. The shepherds, content

with this discovery, go home triumphing,  make the relation to Marian. Amie is

gladded with the sight of Karol, etc. In the meantime enters Lorel, with purpose to 20

ravish Earine, and calling her forth to that lewd end, he, by the hearing of Clarion’s

 footing, is stayed and forced to commit her hastily to the tree again, where Clarion

coming by and hearing a voice singing, draws near unto it. But Eglamour, hearing

it also and knowing it to be Earine’s, falls into a  superstitious commendation of

it, as being an angel’s and in the air, when Clarion espies a hand put forth from 25

the tree and makes towards it, leaving Eglamour to his wild fant’sy, who quitteth

the place. And Clarion beginning to court the hand and  make love to it,  there

ariseth a mist suddenly, which, darkening all the place, Clarion loseth himself and

the tree where Earine is enclosed, lamenting his misfortune with the unknown

nymph’s misery. The air clearing, enters the witch with her son and daughter; 30

tells them how she had caused that late darkness to free Lorel from surprisal

and his prey from being rescued from him; bids him look to her and lock her up

more carefully, and follow her to assist a work she hath in hand of recovering

her lost girdle, which she laments the loss of with cursings, execrations, wishing

confusion to their feast and meeting; sends her son and daughter to gather certain 35

 simples for her purpose and bring them to her dell. This Puck hearing,  prevents

and  shows her error still. The huntsmen, having found her footing, follow the

 track and prick after her. She gets to her dell and  takes her form.  Enter Alken, has

spied her sitting with her spindle, threads, and  images. They are eager to seize

her presently, but Alken persuades them to let her begin her charms, which they 40

do. Her son and daughter come to her. The huntsmen are affrighted as they see

her work go forward, and,  overhasty to apprehend her, she escapeth them all, by

the help and delusions of Puck.

3.1  [Enter] PUCK HAIRY.

PUCK HAIRY

 The fiend hath much to do that keeps a school,

Or is the  father of a family,

Or governs but a country academy.

His labours must be great, as are his cares,

To watch all  turns and cast how to prevent ’em. 5

 This dame of mine here,  Maud, grows high in evil

And thinks she does all, when ’tis I, her devil,

That both delude her and must yet protect her.

She’s confident in mischief and presumes

The changing of her shape will  still secure her; 10

But that may fail, and   divers hazards meet

Of other consequence, which I must look to,

Not let her be surprised on the first  catch.

I must go dance about the forest now

And  firk it like a goblin till I find her. 15

Then will my service come worth acceptation,

When not expected of her; when the help

Meets the necessity, and both do kiss –

’Tis called the timing of a duty, this.  [Exit.]

3.2   [Enter] KAROLIN [and] DOUCE.

KAROLIN

  Sure you are very like her. I conceived

You had been she, seeing you run afore me,

For such a suit she made her  ’gainst this feast,

In all resemblance, or the very same.

I saw her in it. Had she lived  t’enjoy it, 5

She had been there an  acceptable guest

To Marian and the gentle Robin Hood,

Who are the crown and  garland of the wood.

DOUCE

I cannot tell; my mother gave it me

And  bade me wear it.

KAROLIN

Who, the wise   goodwoman, 10

Old  Maud of Papplewick?

 EGLAMOUR enters.

DOUCE

Yes. – This sullen man,

I cannot like him. I must take my leave. Douce goes out.

EGLAMOUR

What said she to you?

KAROLIN

Who?

EGLAMOUR

Earine.

I saw her talking with you, or her ghost,

For she indeed is drowned in old Trent’s bottom. 15

Did she not tell who would ha’ pulled her in

And had her maidenhead upon the place,

The river’s brim, the margin of the flood?

No ground is holy enough – you know my meaning –

Lust is committed in kings’ palaces, 20

And yet their  majesties not violated.

[Karolin starts to speak.]

No words.

KAROLIN

 How sad and wild his thoughts are. Gone?

 Eglamour goes out, but comes in again.

EGLAMOUR

But she,  as chaste as was her name, Earine,

Died undeflowered.  And now her sweet soul hovers

Here in the air above us, and doth haste 25

To get up to the moon and Mercury,

And  whisper Venus in her orb, then spring

Up to old Saturn and come down by Mars,

Consulting Jupiter, and seat herself

 Just in the midst with Phoebus, temp’ring all 30

The jarring spheres and giving to the world

Again his first and tuneful  planeting.

 Oh, what an age will here be of new concords,

Delightful harmony, to rock old sages,

Twice infants, in the cradle o’  speculation, 35

And throw a silence upon all the creatures.

 He goes out again, but returns as soon as before.

KAROLIN

A  cogitation of the highest rapture!

EGLAMOUR

The loudest seas and most enragèd winds

Shall lose their clangour. Tempest shall grow hoarse,

Loud thunder dumb, and every   spece of storm 40

Laid in the lap of list’ning Nature hushed,

To hear the changèd chime of  this eighth sphere.

Take tent and harken for it;  lose it not.  Eglamour departs.

3.3   [Enter] CLARION [and] LIONEL.

CLARION

 Oh, here is Karol. Was not that the sad

Shepherd slipped from him?

LIONEL

Yes, I guess it was. –

Who was that left you, Karol?

KAROLIN

 The   lost man,

Whom we shall never see himself again,

Or ours, I fear. He  starts away from hand so, 5

And all the touches or soft stroke of reason

Ye can apply. No colt is so unbroken,

Or hawk yet half so  haggard or unmanned.

 He takes all toys that his wild  fant’sy proffers

And flies away with them. He now conceives 10

That my lost sister, his Earine,

Is lately turned a sphere amid the seven

And reads a music lecture to the planets;

And with this thought,  he’s run to call ’em hearers.

CLARION

Alas, this is a  strained but innocent  fant’sy. 15

I’ll follow him and find him if I can.

Meantime, go you with Lionel, sweet Karol.

He will acquaint you with an  accident

Which much  desires your presence on the place.  [Exit Clarion.]

3.4    Karolin [and] Lionel [remain].

KAROLIN

 What is it, Lionel, wherein I may serve you?

Why do you so survey and circumscribe me,

 As if you stuck one eye into my breast

And with the other took my whole dimensions?

LIONEL

I wish you had a  window i’your bosom 5

Or i’your back. I might look  thorough you

And see your in-parts, Karol,  liver, heart,

For there the seat of love  is,  whence the boy,

The wingèd archer, hath shot home a shaft

Into my sister’s breast, the innocent Amie, 10

Who now cries out upon her bed on Karol,

Sweet singing Karol, the delicious Karol,

That kissed her like a Cupid. In your eyes,

She says, his  stand is, and between your lips

He  runs forth his divisions to her ears, 15

But will not bide there, ’less yourself do bring him.

Go with me, Karol, and bestow a visit

In charity upon the afflicted maid,

Who pineth with the languor of your love.

 To them MAUDLIN and DOUCE, but Maudlin appearing like Marian.

MAUDLIN

  Whither intend you? Amie is recovered, 20

Feels no such grief as she complained of lately.

 This maiden hath been with her from her mother,

Maudlin, the cunning woman, who hath sent her

Herbs for her head, and simples of that nature

 Have wrought upon her a miraculous cure, 25

Settled her brain, to all our wish and wonder.

LIONEL

So instantly? You know, I now but left her

Possessed with such a fit, almost  to a frenzy.

Yourself too  feared her, Marian, and did urge

My haste to seek out Karol and to bring him. 30

MAUDLIN

I did so. But the skill of that wise woman

And her great charity of doing good

Hath by the ready hand of this  deft lass,

Her daughter, wrought effects beyond belief

And to astonishment. We can but thank 35

And praise and be amazed while we tell it.

 [Maudlin and Douce] go out.

LIONEL

’Tis strange that any art should so help nature

In  her extremes.

KAROLIN

  Then it appears most real

When th’other is deficient.

 Enter ROBIN HOOD.

ROBIN HOOD

Wherefore stay you

Discoursing here and haste not with your succours 40

To poor afflicted Amie, that so needs them?

LIONEL

She is recovered well; your Marian told us

But now here. See, she is returned t’affirm it.

 Enter MAUDLIN like Marian.

ROBIN HOOD

My Marian?

MAUDLIN

Robin Hood? Is he here?

ROBIN HOOD

Stay.

What was’t you ha’ told my friend? 45

Maudlin, espying Robin Hood, would  run out, but he stays her by the girdle and runs in with her.

MAUDLIN

 Help, murder, help!

He returns with the girdle broken, and she in her own shape.

You will not rob me,  outlaw? Thief, restore

My belt that ye have broken.

ROBIN HOOD

Yes, come near.

MAUDLIN

Not i’your   gripe.

ROBIN HOOD

Was this the  charmèd circle,

 The copy that so  cozened and deceived us?

I’ll carry hence the trophy of your spoils. 50

My men shall hunt you too  upon the start

And  course you soundly.

MAUDLIN

I shall make ’em sport

And send some home without their legs or arms.

I’ll teach ’em to climb  stiles, leap ditches, ponds,

And lie i’the waters, if they follow me. 55

ROBIN HOOD

Out, murmuring hag!  [Exeunt Robin Hood, Lionel, and Karolin.]

MAUDLIN

I must use all my powers,

Lay all my wits, to  piecing of this loss.

Things run unluckily. – Where’s my Puck Hairy?

3.5   [Enter] PUCK [HAIRY].

MAUDLIN

Hath he forsook me?

PUCK HAIRY

At your beck, madam.

MAUDLIN

O Puck, my goblin! I have lost my belt.

The strong thief, Robin outlaw, forced it from me.

PUCK HAIRY

 They are other  clouds and blacker  threat you, dame.

You must be wary and pull in your sails, 5

And yield unto the weather of the tempest.

You think your power’s infinite as your malice

And would do all your anger prompts you to,

But you must wait  occasions and obey them:

 Sail in an eggshell, make a straw your mast, 10

A cobweb all your  cloth, and pass unseen

Till you have ’scaped the rocks that are about you.

MAUDLIN

What rock’s about me?

PUCK HAIRY

I do love, madam,

To show you all your dangers when you are past ’em.

Come, follow me. I’ll once more be your  pilot, 15

And you shall thank me.

MAUDLIN

 Lucky, my loved goblin.

 LOREL meets her.

Where are you   gaing now?

LOREL

Unto my tree

To see my maistress.

MAUDLIN

 Gang thy gait and try

Thy turns with better luck, or hang thysel’!

 THE END

Title-page 9 Jonson’s epigraph (‘Thalia [the muse of comedy] did not blush to be a forest-dweller’) comes from Virgil, Eclogue, 6.1–2, and justifies Jonson’s turn to pastoral drama for the stage.
11 M.DC.ⅩⅬⅠ. The Sad Shepherd is one of two works in the folio printed (at least in part) in 1641. See the Introduction for a discussion of the date of the play and the Textual Essay, Electronic Edition, for the date of its printing.
The Persons of the Play 2–10 The names of Robin, Marian, and the members of their ‘family’ are all present in traditional Robin Hood tales, ballads, and older plays. ‘Scarlet’ and ‘Scathlock’, however, are usually alternative designations for the same individual. Anthony Munday and Henry Chettle did split them up into two brothers in The Downfall of Robert, Earl of Huntingdon and The Death of Robert Earl of Huntingdon (1598), plays Jonson will have known, and by which he was apparently influenced.
2 woodman one skilled in woodcraft, forestray.
3 mistress female head of the household.
4 Family Household.
6 LITTLE JOHN An ironic soubriquet. He was reputed to be seven feet tall.
6 bow-bearer Under-officer who guarded against infringements of forest law (OED, 2). The term does not imply that Little John carries a bow.
9 GEORGE A GREEN Hero of an anonymous comedy of that name performed in 1588/9, and of Robin Hood ballads about ‘The Jolly Pinder of Wakefield’. He acquired his surname because he lived on the town green before being persuaded to leave his employment as the official charged with impounding Wakefield’s stray cattle and join Robin and his fellows in the greenwood.
9 usher doorkeeper.
9 usher] F2 (Huisher)
10 bailiff estate-manager (OED, 3).
10 acater purchaser of provisions, caterer.
11–19 All characters invented by Jonson. The epithets he attached to their names here are not etymologies, although he later plays on Mellifleur’s name (mellis (Lat.) + fleur (French) = ‘honey-flower’) and on Clarion’s (clarus (Lat.) = bright) at 1.4.1: ‘Welcome, bright Clarion and sweet Mellifleur’. Earine, ‘the beautiful’, in fact derives her name from ἐαρινός, the Greek word for spring, an association reiterated throughout Jonson’s play but obscured in F2’s list of characters by being mistakenly printed as ‘Larine’, a spelling that does not occur elsewhere in the play. Jonson may have remembered ‘Eglamour’ from Shakespeare’s TGV, but the two characters have nothing but a lost beloved in common, and that is not signalled by the name. See Barton (1984), ch. 16, for a detailed consideration of the names in the play.
15 eglamour] F2 (Aeglamour), spelling used throughout F2
16 karolin Usually called ‘Karol’ in the play’s dialogue.
19 earine] Wh; Larine F2
19–23 Also Jonson’s additions to the Robin Hood material. ‘Lorel’ (from OED: ‘a worthless person’) is a defining character name, but ‘Maudlin’ is not, and ‘Douce’ (though she was perhaps to become ‘gentle’ in the reconciliations of the last act, as she does in Waldron’s continuation) in itself does not signify ‘the proud’. ‘Puck Hairy or Robin Goodfellow’ is unlike these in that both are names for a traditional, folk character, although not one previously connected with Robin Hood. Jonson had already introduced Robin Goodfellow in his masque Love Rest. A country spirit or goblin, primarily associated, like Puck in Shakespeare’s MND, with village cottages, he sweeps hearths and performs other domestic services, usually while the household is asleep. He also likes to make mischief. Jonson’s elaboration ‘Puck Hairy’ is physically descriptive, and would presumably have been reflected in his stage appearance. H&S point to ‘the German “Pickle härin”, a merry andrew so called from his hairy or leafy dress’.
21 envious malicious, spiteful (OED, †2).
21 Papplewick Village north of Nottingham, near Newstead Abbey. At 2.8.17 Maudlin is said to live ‘Close by the ruins of a shaken abbey’.
23 lorel] F2 (Lorell), both spellings used throughout F2
23 rude ignorant, uncivilized.
23 swineherd] F2 (Swine’ard)
24 hind servant.
24 hind] Wh; Hine F2
25 The Reconciler Reuben, the devout hermit, is the only character not to appear in Jonson’s play as we have it. His name does not suggest qualities of reconciliation; he must, however, have been instrumental in creating harmony and forgiveness at the end.
26 hermit religious recluse. The non-religious sense was not current in the seventeenth century.
28–31 All the action of the play occurs in the forest, or at Lorel’s house and grounds on its outskirts, but Jonson wanted to locate Sherwood against a visual panorama of the surrounding countryside: the Vale of Belvoir, the River Trent, cottages, even what must have been either Belvoir or Nottingham Castle seen in the distance. This scene must have been intended for a painted back-cloth or, more likely, for painted shutters closing off a perspective stage equipped with moveable side wings. The five specific locations listed next (the bower, well, dimble, oak, and cell) were probably to be represented on individual wings, or else (as with the oak that imprisons Earine) as three-dimensional cut-outs, or ‘relieves’. Inigo Jones had initially developed such designs in England (following the work of the Italian architect Sebastiano Serlio) for the great court masques (cf. ‘The Court Masque’, vol. 1). Chlor. (1631), Jones’s last collaboration with Jonson before they quarrelled, employs the descriptive term ‘Land-shape’ (see 17, 186, collations), and the term is also used in Theobalds, 27 and n., and Blackness, 16; Jonson may have associated the term with Serlian wings. Throughout the 1630s, Jones and his associate John Webb were also creating sets like this for plays: at Whitehall, the Paved Court Theatre at Somerset House, or the Cockpit at Court. Jonson apparently had in mind this kind of performance space and scenic resource, not one of the public theatres, for his pastoral. For considerations of the performance contexts, see Orrell (1985) and Peacock (1995).
28 Sherwood Sherwood Forest, the traditional home of Robin Hood, is located to the south of Nottingham.
29 landscape] Wh; Landt-shape F2
31 dimble Deep hollow in the woods, a place traditionally associated with supernatural beings. See 2.8.15–23 for a detailed description of Maudlin’s dimble.
31 swineherd’s] F2 (Swine’ards)
The Prologue ] 1716 positions The Prologue here; Prologue follows The Argument of the First Act in F2
0 SD ] G (subst.); not in F2
0 SH ] this edn; not in F2
1 these forty years The earliest payment Jonson received as a playwright was on 28 July 1597 (though he may have begun writing for the stage a little earlier), suggesting that this Prologue was written around 1637, the year of his death. Cf. Life Records, 7, Electronic Edition, for the 1597 payment.
2 fables A surprising word for Jonson to use, as he typically associates it with lies or low literature. But see Discoveries, 1914–19, where Jonson defines ‘fable’ as a perfectly crafted plot.
2 your finer ears i.e. those of better poetic judgement. Jonson may be recalling the ‘long ears’ (i.e. of asses) of ignorant readers in his Epistle to Epigr. 25, which is itself an allusion to Persius, Sat., 1.121 (as Ian Donaldson has pointed out privately).
3 hit the bore i.e. fit the measure (from ‘bore’ as the calibre of a gun). Cf. Ham., 4.6.21–2: ‘yet are they much too light for the bore of the matter’. H&S’s reading of ‘bore’ as ‘the mark’ of a target seems unfounded.
4–6 Among Jonson’s early plays, neither Cynthia at court nor Sej. at the Globe seems to have been liked. EMO was almost certainly far more successful in print than on the stage, while the reception of Poet. provoked him into an angry defence. It seems nevertheless like wishful thinking for him to suggest here that the Caroline audience which had rejected New Inn out of hand and been only tepid in its response to his other late plays, by comparison with the popularity of Volp., Alch., and Bart. Fair, should now be congratulated on having finally come to value and understand him truly.
9–10 wool . . . English flocks The play is unusual (perhaps unique), as Jonson knew, in having both a geographically precise English location and (unlike Lyly’s Lincolnshire pastoral Galatea) introducing no classical deities (‘mere’ here means ‘pure’). Cf. Introduction. Jonson’s metaphor works through the long-standing association between weaving and crafting a narrative.
11 cloth] F2 (Cloath)
12 curious careful, particular.
14 or those either those.
14 Sicily or Greece Referring primarily to Theocritus, the Sicilian-born originator of Greek pastoral poetry, and to Virgil, whose Eclogues, set in Greek Arcadia (a province in the central Peloponnese), rapidly and enduringly made that imaginary locale virtually synonymous with pastoral.
17 Belvoir Pronounced beaver, as F2’s spelling (Be’voir) suggests. The area is east of Nottingham and Sherwood Forest. Belvoir Castle, home of the Earl of Rutland, was situated here, and it was the setting for the second performance of Jonson’s Gypsies. It may be the castle referred to in Jonson’s location, The Persons of the Play, 29.
17 Belvoir] F2 (Be’voir)
17 shepherds] F2 (Shep’ards)
17–18 feast . . . guest Jonson employs this rhyme again at 1.2.20–1 and 2.6.34–5, and it was an acceptable rhyme in the period.
18 casual chance.
20 i.e. As much sadness is shown as passion can manage on the stage.
21 shepherd] F2 (Shep’ard)
22 SD] this edn; in margin of F2 with note marker (p) in margin and at the beginning of line 22
22 Like . . . figure ‘It appears that Eglamour wore blacks, and was further distinguished by a wreath of cypress and yew’ (Gifford).
23 Trent Major river stretching from Stoke-on-Trent in Staffordshire, through Sherwood Forest, to the River Humber above Hull.
24 miscarried died.
25 feet i.e. turbulent sections downstream from the ‘head’, or source. Recalling Donne, Satires (ed. Milgate, 1967), 5.28–30: ‘Greatest and fairest Empress, know you this? / Alas, no more than Thames’ calm head doth know / Whose meads her arms drown, or whose corn o’erflow.’
27 the end . . . all i.e. everything becomes settled in the end. Proverbial (Dent, E116).
28 scope . . . chance The entire action is to unfold within the neoclassical limits of a single day.
29 Old Trent i.e. The source of the play, Jonson.
30 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
31 Castelain proposes that the Prologue as we have it is a combination of two prologues, with the second beginning here. He also suggests that this second half may have come from Jonson’s lost pastoral, The May-lord (1907a, 459–60n.). Although it is possible that this short section may derive from earlier work, it seems unlikely that Jonson would take pains to incorporate, with an elaborate stage direction, sentiments about ‘late’ (31) or recent tastes from over twenty years earlier.
31–2 heresy . . . pastoral Jonson is thinking of the kind of elevated and humourless pastoral (plays like Montagu’s The Shepherds’ Paradise) then in vogue at court. ‘Of late’ conflicts with Drummond’s report in 1619 that Jonson claimed his lost The May-lord was unique among all other pastorals because it introduced ‘mirth and foolish sports’ (Informations, 311–12). Jonson must have been aware of Philip Sidney’s introduction of such foolish lower-class characters as Dametas, Miso, and Mopsa in his prose romance Arcadia, as he would have been of the ‘mirth’ generated by bewildered servants like Robin, Rafe, Peter, and Dick in Lyly’s Galatea.
35 The sock The light shoe worn by ancient comic actors, used here for ‘comedy’ in general.
35 in kind (1) of this type, i.e. the pastoral genre (OED, Kind n. Ⅰ 9); (2) naturally (Greg, line 62n.). Cf. line 45 below.
36 rural . . . families Literally ‘country groups and households’, but ‘rout’ and ‘families’ also suggest people of low and high stature respectively (OED, Rout n.1 Ⅱ 6 and Family n. Ⅰ 4 a). Cf. Forest 3.53–4: ‘The rout of rural folk come thronging in / (Their rudeness then is thought no sin)’.
39 distaste displease.
41 fore-wits Those first to express a critical opinion.
41 draw . . . liking lead others to follow their judgments.
44 weigh] Wh; weigh; F2
45 Whether each individual work fits the generic conventions. ‘Whe’er means ‘Whether’.
46 in themselves . . . find he finds differences from other works (of the same genre).
47 if . . . stood if the differences fit the circumstances.
52 affections (1) emotions; (2) good dispositions. Jonson also posits the stirring of affections as an aim of comedy in Volp., Epistle, 91–2.
53–4 Thought by Greg (ed., The Sad Shepherd, 1905) and H&S to be a gibe at Samuel Daniel, whose pastoral drama Hymen’s Triumph (1614) contains a large number of these exclamations. The lines are more likely to have gestured at the languishing style of Caroline pastoral generally – especially if the actor playing the Prologue briefly mimed it. Sad Shep. itself is not without ‘Ah’ and ‘Oh’: cf. 2.4.24, 2.4.27, and 2.6.76.
56 character distinguishing feature (from ‘character’ as ‘handwriting’).
58 made . . . flight i.e. produced but one literary work.
61 like poet like an idealized version of the perfect poet.
62 Jonson regaled Drummond with a longer account of a very un-versatile painter of this sort (Informations, 385–8). Compare also Jonson’s translation of Horace’s painter who paints only cypress trees (Horace, 24–5).
63 chance fortune.
65 contemn scorn.
66 Artificers Artists (OED, †5). The accent here is on the second syllable.
66 SD] this edn; not in F2
Argument The arguments are arranged in F2 before each act, except for this one, which appears before the Prologue (see collation to the Prologue). They loosely summarize the action to come, often supplying details of staging, but they are a readerly convention (having no place in performance) which may initially have been a part of Jonson’s writing process. Like the Arguments for Jonson’s other unfinished play, Mortimer, they read like prose outlines for further development, and there are occasional contradictions which suggest an ongoing process. They are thus very unlike the more polished Arguments of Sej., New Inn, and Volp.
Argument 1 shepherds and shepherdesses] F2 (Shep’erds and Shep’erdesses)
2 Belvoir] F2 (Be’voir)
2 mistress i.e. sweetheart, but with additional registers of ‘female head of household’ and ‘mistress of a feast’.
3 against in time for (OED, 19).
8 shepherd] F2 (Shep’ard)
8 fallen] F2 (falne)
9 passing over crossing, either by bridge or boat.
10 in . . . can as far as they are able.
12 lovers This word does not necessarily imply a sexual relationship.
14 at force using hounds to run down the game (OED, Force n.1 Ⅲ †22 a).
14 he the deer.
14 stood endured (the onslaught of the hounds). This word has an additional hunting sense of ‘standing at bay’, but Jonson seems not to use it in this way, as the deer is said to have stood for over five hours (see 1.6.27–8).
14 head antlers.
15 breaking him up dismembering the deer (according to strict protocol).
15–16 raven . . . bone See 1.6.42ff. for a full account of the raven.
16 The suspect . . . to be The suspicion was that that raven was.
17 rousing . . . deer causing of the deer to rise from his lair (OED, Rouse v.1 2).
18 Robin Hood’s . . . chimney-corner Such civilized amenities as a kitchen, a chimney-corner, and later (1.6.51) a kitchen ‘dresser’, may seem at odds with a predominantly outdoor existence in the forest. Yet the Gest of Robyn Hoode (printed from the late fifteenth century onwards), the longest and most important of the traditional Robin Hood poems, and probably known to Jonson, on three occasions refers to his ‘lodge’ or ‘lodge door’, as though he enjoyed the sort of abode a considerable forest official might have (cf. Introduction).
19 quarry Place where the deer is broken up, its parts being laid out on its own skin (OED, n.1 †2 a).
19 fall i.e. place where the deer fell.
23 shepherds] F2 (Shep’erds)
23 wonder amazement.
1.1 ] Act Ⅰ. Scene Ⅰ. F2
1.1 1–9 Jonson had already suggested in Chlor., his masque of spring, that the Queen’s feet, touching the earth, made ‘various flowers to grow’ (179). A longer passage, elaborating on this idea, in Goffe’s The Careless Shepherdess (1619) is sometimes cited as the source of Eglamour’s speech. Goffe’s play, however, was not printed until 1656, and Jonson’s indebtedness is not striking. The idea was fairly widespread.
5–6 Lines taken from Virgil’s Aeneid, 7.808–9, which Jonson had cited in Queens, 506–7.
6 blow-ball Seed-head of the dandelion.
9 As As if.
9 odorous sweet-smelling.
1.2 ] Act Ⅰ. Scene Ⅱ. F2
1.2 0 sd.2 woodmen, etc. This direction seems to imply that a larger retinue of woodmen or servants should be onstage if possible.
0 SD] Marian, Friar Tuck, John, George-a-Green, Much,Woodmen, &c. G; Marian. Tuck. Iohn. Wood-men, &c. F2
4 madam Accent on the second syllable.
8 In threaves i.e. In masses, like threaves (large measures of straw). Jonson uses this term similarly in Alch., 5.2.19.
9 harboured . . . deer ‘The process of woodcraft whereby the lair of the largest stag discoverable in a wood is ascertained, so that he and no other may be hunted’ (Fortescue, 1916, 335).
10 tackling gear (OED, vbl. n. †2 a). Little John is carrying the tools of his trade, probably including a huntsman’s horn. H&S suggest that he should also carry bow and arrows, but this is by no means certain, as no direct reference is made to the bow, and hunting at force was often done without guns or bows (see E. Berry, 2002, 17–18).
10 hart male red deer of at least six years, considered the ‘largest and noblest’ animal to be hunted in England (E. Berry, 2002, 17).
10 of ten with a ten-point rack of antlers, i.e. a fairly large deer. Jonson’s source for most of his hunting terms and etiquette is George Turberville’s The Noble Art of Venery or Hunting (1575), which refers to large deer as ‘harts of ten’. Fortescue demonstrates clearly that Jonson knew nothing at first hand about stag-hunting (1916). Jonson frequently misapplies what he gleaned from Turberville, assembling a contradictory set of facts about this particular deer, and the ways of assessing it, so that Little John first relies on the traces left by the deer (such as dung and marks left by antlers) to determine its size, and then suggests that he has seen it, rendering such traces inconsequential (lines 10–15).
11 trow believe.
12 his slot . . . port his footprints, his entrances into wooded areas, and the marks left by his antlers as he passes. All of these signs help determine the size of a deer. See Turberville, Noble Art, ch. 8, 22, 24, and 25.
13 frayings Marks left upon a tree by a deer’s new horns as he scrapes off the velvet. Bigger deer leave higher marks on a tree (Turberville, Noble Art, 69–70).
13 fumets dung. Fumets are discussed by Turberville in Noble Art, ch. 23.
14 standing holding out (OED, Stand v. Ⅵ 69 e). ‘By the gait and going of an hart the huntsman may know if he be great and long and whether he will stand long up before his hounds or not’ (Turberville, Noble Art, 67).
15 well beamed The ‘beams’ are the main trunks of the antlers (Turberville, Noble Art, 53).
15 rights branches of the antlers (OED, Right n.1 Ⅱ 11 e).
15 summed numbered, completely grown. Compare Turberville: ‘by the midst of June, their heads will be summed of as much as they will bear all that year’ (Noble Art, 47).
15 spread Well-above spaced antlers characterize an old deer in Turberville: ‘when harts have their heads large and open, it signifieth that they are old, rather than when they are crooked and close bowed’ (Noble Art, 53).
16 rouse make the deer leave his lair (cf. Argument 17n. above, 1.6.48–9).
18 they’ve] F2 (they’ave)
19 pound ‘position from which escape is impossible or difficult’ (OED, n.2 Ⅰ 2).
20 SH marian] F3 (subst.); Mor. F2
21 SD woodmen If George a Green and Much are onstage at this point, they do not exit with any other woodmen (as Waldron has it, see collation 1.3.0sd); they are present in the next scene.
1.3 ] Act Ⅰ. Scene Ⅲ. F2
0 SD] this edn; Tuck. George a Greene. Much. Aeglamour. F2; Manet Tuck, George a Green, and Much / Waldron
1.3 2 in fee i.e. as part of your duty as servants.
3 don] F2 (d’on)
3 liveries servants’ garments.
3 see . . . dressed The conviction that Robin Hood had a bower (or arbour) in Sherwood is reflected in a number of early place names scattered across England. Like ‘Robin Hood’s Well’, also a common placename (see Introduction), it is one of the stage localities for which Jonson intended some visual realization.
4 devices entertainments, shows.
5 baldric Ornamental belt or girdle. This, like the garland, rewards the shepherd with ‘the earliest lamb’ (see 1.7.27–8).
5 trim neatly prepared.
9 greensward turf. H&S direct attention to Drayton’s The Muses’ Elizium and ‘our shepherds’ board that’s cut out of the ground’ (Works, ‘Sixth Nimphall’, line 219). Jonson’s Robin Hood may have a house and kitchen, but a picnic (although a very elaborate one) is being planned here, complete with a carefully sculpted grassy table, made of cut turf stacked to form the table and seating.
9 greensward] G; greene sword F2
13 bullèd nosegays ‘a nosegay of flowers that are full blown’ (Whalley). Waldron, in an annotation of his personal copy, proposes that ‘bullèd’ may derive from the Latin bullatus, meaning ‘buttoned’, or budded, instead of ‘full blown’ (Waldron, BL 643.g.15).
14 A verb to explain what George must do to create a ‘pipers’ bank’ is missing here. Waldron offers, as a line to follow 13, ‘Raise, where the stately beech her branches spreads’ (Waldron, BL C.45.c.4).
15 dial sundial, possibly made of flowers to be highlighted or shaded by the sun’s passage. Compare Marvell’s ‘The Garden’: ‘How well the skilful gard’ner drew / Of flow’rs and herbs this dial new; / Where from above the milder sun / Does through a fragrant zodiac run; / And as it works, th’industrious bee / Computes its time as well as we’ (Marvell, Poems, ed. Smith lines 65–70).
15 mete] F2 (meete)
16 want lack.
18 Ay] F2 (I)
19 acates ‘all provisions except the home produce of the baker and brewer’ (OED, Acate †2), hence the ‘fowl, feather, fish, or fin’, but not the ‘bread’ or ‘wine’. Much is called ‘acater’ in The Persons of the Play, line 10.
20 my father’s Much’s father was a miller; see 25 below.
20 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
20 SD Like Shakespeare’s Hamlet in 1.2, the sad shepherd has for some time now been a silent presence to one side, in mourning garb, a man unnoticed by the others, but not by the theatre audience. Only Much’s chance reference to the Trent impels him at last to step forward and briefly join the others. It is characteristic of him throughout the play to appear suddenly and then disappear without explanation.
22–4 Earine . . . Earine? Here, at lines 28, 29, 46, 64, and elsewhere in the play, the verse lines containing Earine’s name are metrically problematic. The name itself sometimes requires to be pronounced as if it had two syllables, sometimes three, or even on occasion four, as it seems to be here, if the line in question is to scan regularly. Waldron’s continuation employs the same latitude.
25 Just . . . mills Earine was supposedly drowned very close to the watermill of Much’s father, as explained in 28–9 below.
27 bailey bailiff.
34 keep your way go about your business.
34 toys (1) amusements (OED, n. †2); (2) trifling speeches (n. 3a).
35 poesies (1) nosegays (OED, Poesy †4); (2) poems (OED, 1).
37 cypress wreath Garland of cypress worn as a sign of mourning.
41 SD] this edn; not in F2
41 fantasy mental apprehension, understanding (OED, n. 1 †a).
42 searching examining, probing.
42 SD] Waldron; not in F2
43 Searching Eglamour picks up the irony of Tuck’s term, as he is looking helplessly for his lost love.
44–5 dark . . . brows ‘the wreath of cypress he has on’ (Waldron).
50 abate degrade, devalue.
51 SD] Waldron (subst.); not in F2
52 knit . . . brows i.e. fabricate clouds to set about my head, as a more pronounced sign of mourning than the cypress wreath.
53 Swithin St Swithin was associated with weeping and rain. ‘This name hath been taken up in honour of [St] Swithin, the holy Bishop of Winchester, about the year 860, and called the weeping [St] Swithin, for that about his Feast Præsepe and Aselli, rainy Constellations arise cosmically and commonly cause rain’ (Blount, EMEDD). St Swithin’s Day is 15 July. Jonson mentions St Swithin’s presence in almanacs in EMO, 1.3.22.
53 wat’ry signs constellations bringing rain; see Blount’s quote above. Blount names Aquarius as a rainy constellation, and Cotgrave associates rain with Taurus (cf. Blount, Aquarius, LEME and Cotgrave, Hyades, LEME).
54 kids ‘a pair of small stars in the constellation Auriga’ (OED, Kid n.1 4). Hester Lees-Jeffries points out (in private correspondence) that Jonson may be recalling Ovid’s Met., 3.593–5, in which the Olenian goat, a cluster of stars in Auriga, is called ‘rainy’. A note in George Sandys’s translation of Ovid (1632), which seems to be a source for the play (cf. 2.6.26n.), makes the connection between this goat and her ‘kids’ (i.e. the two stars next to her which Ovid does not himself mention) even more explicit: ‘This goat with her two kids are placed in the shoulder of Aurigo’ (Sandys, Met., p. 94n.).
57 I did I would do.
58 to . . . breaches i.e. to overflow her banks.
59 corn grain, wheat.
62 Wrought into water i.e. Drowned.
63 I’d] F2 (I’ld)
65 their body Whalley and others change this to ‘her body’, but Earine’s body here belongs to ‘the torrent and . . . whirls of Trent’ – to which ‘their’ refers throughout this passage – so the sense does not need emendation.
65 their] F2; her Wh
68 For Despite.
70 the looks] F2 (the lookes); her looks Wh
72 of] F2; off Wh
72 And . . . malice? And what effect can the malice of Trent’s waters have on me?
73 sousing drenching (in their waters), i.e. drowning (OED, Souse v.1 3 a).
74 study meditate upon, plot.
76 pipes, tabors small flutes and drums, played together by one musician (Sadie, New Grove, ‘Pipe and tabor’).
76 tambourines It is difficult to determine what instrument is meant by F2’s ‘Timburines’ (cf. OED, Tambourine). Possibly it is a drum without the metal jingles of a modern tambourine.
76 tambourines] F2 (Timburines)
1.4 ] Act Ⅰ. Scene ⅢⅠ. F2
0 sd.1 Eglamour, enter] this edn; him F2
1.4 0 sd.2 SERVANTS. . . sorts Servants enter playing music, probably on a variety of instruments, such as those Eglamour complains about two lines earlier.
0 sd.3 Eglamour stays apart Eglamour remains unnoticed for the entire scene (probably sitting ‘upon a bank [near]by’, 1.5.0 SD).
0 sd.3 Eglamour stays apart.] Waldron (subst.); not in F2
4 greenwood walks A forest ‘walk’ was not just a path but a division made to facilitate administration.
6 washed Sheep were washed before shearing.
6 lighted of made lighter (by the removal) of.
7–8 ewes . . . rams This phrase recalls ‘So may our ewes receive the mounting rams’ from Jonson’s Pan’s Ann., 211, which Jonson adapted in 1635 for Und. 79.
9 As As if.
9 either ‘each of the two’ (OED, A I).
10 eaning lambing.
10 lusty vigorous, healthy.
14 hornpipe wind instrument made partially from horn. It is an instrument local to Sherwood in Welbeck, 238.
14 tambourine] F2 (Timburine)
16 triumph-bough i.e. garland, as worn by victorious Roman generals when returning ‘in triumph’ to Rome.
16 triumph-bough?] F3; Triumph-bough. F2
17 were Waldron, Gifford, and H&S adopt ‘are’ here, but the past tense makes sense if Robin is speaking of traditional ‘rites’ allowed by the season.
17 were] F2; are Waldron conj., G
18 gay jolly.
18–56 sourer . . . lust Here, for the first and only time, Jonson’s play engages (like Spenser’s Shepherd’s Calendar and other pastorals of the period) in religious controversy. His target is those extreme puritan sects whose disapproval of country games and festivities, already manifest under Elizabeth, had greatly increased under James, provoking that king’s defiant Declaration of Sports (1617/18). Jonson’s poem congratulating his friend Sir Robert Dover for overcoming ‘the spite of hypocrites’ in establishing the Cotswold Games, with their ‘Hunting and Dancing’, was published in 1636 (‘Dover’, 6.699).
19 disclaim in renounce.
23 covetise covetousness.
24 eanling young lamb.
25 fell skin (OED, n.1 1). Cf. Discoveries: ‘a prince is the pastor of the people. He ought to shear, not to flay his sheep; to take their fleeces, not their fells’ (896–8).
26–33 Friar Tuck describes greedy shepherds’ attempts to sabotage their fellow shepherds’ flocks.
26 prickly weed eryngo, or sea-holly. Jonson may be translating a source he used for the masques, Martino Antonio del Rio, Disquisitionum Magicarum Libri Sex (Louvain, 1599; rpt. [Ursellis], 1606): eryngium caprae sumtum ore, greges totos sistere (Book 1, p. 53), ‘Eryngo, touching a she-goat’s mouth, causes the entire flock to stop (feeding)’.
28 tods’ foxes’. Foxes were held, like badgers (cf. 32 below), to bring harm to sheep.
28 their foxes’.
29 doff put off.
29 doff] F2 (d’off)
30 neat cattle.
32 brock badger.
33 worry harass.
34 not seen The faults are concealed, criminal behaviour, unlike the innocence and unconcealed pleasures of country folk.
35 been are. The addition of ‘-en’ to make the plural is a conscious anachronism for the sake of the rhyme (see Grammar, 1.16.23–7).
35 been:] F2 (beene.)
44 neatherds] F2 (Neat’ards)
45 kit ‘small bowed unfretted fiddle, generally with four strings’ (Sadie, New Grove).
45 crowd crwth, a Welsh plucked lyre (Sadie, New Grove). Cf. Wales, 230.
46 tabret small tabor, or drum.
49 dart . . . daisies i.e. Presumably to show off his skill with the hook.
50 wrestle] F2 (wrastle)
51 new garment i.e. Because her garment would be stained green by the grass. The games being played in the grass are country games (see 52 nn.), but here the language is, perhaps mildly, sexually suggestive.
52 course at game of.
52 barley-break ‘An old country game, varying in different parts . . . originally played by six persons (three of each sex) in couples; one couple, being left in a middle den termed “hell,” had to catch the others, who were allowed to separate or “break” when hard pressed, and thus to change partners, but had when caught to take their turn as catchers’ (OED).
52 base A game ‘played by two sides, who occupy contiguous “bases” or “homes”; any player running out from his “base” is chased by one of the opposite side, and, if caught, made a prisoner’ (OED, n.2).
57–8 Clarion’s anxiety that no time should be wasted embarking on festivities now seems oddly prescient of a future Jonson did not live to see. Dover’s Cotswold Games were suppressed during the Interregnum, and the theatres closed by Act of Parliament in 1642.
58 SD] Potts; not in F2
58 SD Tuck speaks no more in this scene, and, as he is not included in 1.5.0 SD, it seems that he must exit before that scene begins. Potts’s stage direction is appropriate here, as Clarion’s insistence that they lose no more time is a good opportunity for Tuck to slip off and ‘see the bower dressed’ (1.3.3).
59 allay abatement, a check (OED, n.1 Ⅱ 8, 9).
63 tread With perhaps an mild double entendre, as ‘tread’ is a verb used of copulating fowl. See 51n. above.
65 melancholy turtle Turtle doves were held to mourn after losing their mates; cf. Lyly’s Euphues: ‘the turtle having lost her mate wandreth alone, joying in nothing but in solitariness’ (H2).
67 yew and cypressa Traditional markers of mourning, here said to be worn by Eglamour as a garland. ‘Cypressa’ is cypress. The term may be a printer’s error as it is not used elsewhere, and it makes the line metrically irregular.
67 cypressa] F2 (Cypressa); Cypress F3
68 physic medicine.
68 fit i.e. melancholy.
71 pleasing frenzy i.e. ‘the merry moods of his distracted state’ (Greg, 1905).
72 sought looked for.
74–5 that . . . doubt so large an increase that we fear.
76 cross oppose.
77 fant’sy Jonson’s term, one he uses often, suggests both ‘fantasy’ and ‘fancy’. ‘Fancy’ originated as a shortened form of ‘fantasy’, but the words ‘had in the time of Shakespeare become more or less differentiated in sense’ (OED, Fantasy, phantasy n.). The word means both (1) ‘mental apprehension’ or understanding; and (2) ‘illusion of the senses’ (OED, Fantasy n. 1 †a; Fancy n. and a. †2).
77 fant’sy] F2 (Phant’sie)
79–80 Nay . . . shepherd According to Drummond, ‘Alken’ was the name Jonson reserved for himself in The May-lord (Informations, 307). F2’s ‘Alhen’ (cf. collation) appears to be a printer’s error, as the name appears as ‘Alken’ in the speech heading at the end of the scene.
79 Alken] F2 (Alhen)
82 forward fry brash young men.
82 their lore of their wisdom in such matters.
85, 86 him, him, he’s i.e. Eglamour, Eglamour’s.
86 t’offend] F2 (to’offend)
86 Sure Surely.
86 sh alken Gifford assigns this speech to Karolin, but Alken and the others are looking for Eglamour, too, so emendation is unnecessary.
1.5 ] Act Ⅰ. Scene Ⅴ. F2
0 SD] this edn; Robin-hood. Clarion. Mellifleur. Lionel. Amie. Alken. Karolin. Aeglamour, sitting upon a banke by. F2
1.5 1–26 Eglamour seems at first to be meditating privately on his grief and anger, but at 27ff. he has been heard by the others, and then he addresses them.
2 exquisite Accent on the first syllable.
4 afore before (Partridge, 1953a, §58c).
6 greenswarth greensward.
6 greenswarth] this edn; greene sworth F2
8–10 Eglamour intends to spell out his tale with stones that are set into the ground to form letters and then surrounded with moss to offset them.
9 pebble The word could be used as a collective noun in the period (Partridge, 1953a, §5).
12 complexion physical nature (i.e. from fresh to brackish water).
14 rigid stiff (from age).
15–16 that . . . As such a sudden and sharp cold throughout that.
16 virtue beneficial properties (OED, n. Ⅱ 9 b).
16 nymphs i.e. water nymphs.
17 nymphs pulled nymphs (that) pulled.
18 curled . . . ice Eglamour seems to imagine the nymphs as frozen waves, or frozen in waves. To curl water is to make it ripple (cf. OED, Curl v.1 3 a), but Jonson may be recalling Horace’s rugosus frigore, ‘wrinkled with cold’, which is translated as ‘curled’ in the Dubia poem, ‘Part of Horace Epistles 1.18 translated’, line 66 (Electronic Edition).
21 dog-star Sirius, in the constellation Greater Dog, or Procyon, in the Lesser Dog. Both were thought to bring hot days when rising in conjunction with the sun (OED, 1).
21 foams i.e. causes liquid to foam; also punning on dogs foaming at the mouth.
21 stream] F3; streames F2
22 sparkle emit itself, i.e. boil.
25 Blue A blue flame burns with special intensity.
25–6 Scamander . . . consume him Scamander, or Xanthus, was the river of Troy, which tried to protect its city by attacking Achilles in the Trojan War. Vulcan set fire around the river to tame it, but he did not leap in or consume it (Homer, Iliad, 21.342–82). The river is here described as being consumed by particularly intense, ‘blue’ flames. Spenser writes of the river being ‘purpled yet with blood / Of Greekes and Trojans’ (Faerie Queene, 4.11.20).
27, 64 fant’sy] F2 (Phant’sie)
29 gratulate congratulate.
32 proffered . . . spring consolation offered by the spring season. A particularly poor choice of words, given Earine’s name, as Eglamour points out in 43–5 below.
34 burs Plants which produce prickly seed-heads.
34 docks Name specifically given to the dock plant used to soothe nettle stings, but also commonly applied to other coarse weeds.
34 docks] F3; Dorks F2
35 hemlock . . . box ‘Hemlock’ and ‘yew’ are poisonous; ‘mandrake’, a member of the nightshade family with a forked root, was held to shriek when pulled out of the ground, killing those who heard it. The ‘box’ was not generally thought to be malicious, but was known to stink. Gerard’s Herbal notes: ‘the leaves of the boxtree are hot, dry, and astringent, of an evil and loathsome smell, not used in medicine . . .’ (John Gerard, The Herbal; or, General History of Plants, 1226).
36 beside besides. See Partridge for Jonson’s use of ‘beside’ for ‘besides’ (1953a, §58a i).
42 put . . . upon i.e. put these things to.
44–5 H&S note that these lines follow Martial’s epigram on Earinos: Nomen cum violis rosique natum, / quo pars optima nominatur anni, ‘A name born with the violets and the roses, after which the year’s best part is called’ (9.11.1–2).
45 knots new shoots.
45 buddings buds.
48 The three Graces were said to be the daughters of Venus by the god Dionysus. Jonson describes Venus leading the Graces to dance in Epigr. 105.11–12. In Spenser’s Faerie Queene, 6.10.6–18, they are surprised by Sir Calidore dancing on Mount Acidale, sacred to Venus.
49 sweets ‘fragrant flowers or herbs’ (OED, n. 7).
52–3 Dove . . . Soar Tributary rivers running into the River Trent. As H&S point out, Jonson probably took this list of the Trent’s tributary streams from song 26 of Drayton’s Poly-olbion (1622), a volume in Jonson’s library.
53 Erewash] F2 (Erwash)
57 cope cope (or vault) of heaven, i.e. the sky.
60 screeching] F2 (scritching)
62 wicker wings A phrase seemingly coined by Jonson, and associated with the flight of sinister creatures (OED, Wicker, n. 4 b).
63 screech] F2 (scritch)
64 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
65–80 Karolin’s song seems to have been written before the rest of the play and survives in several contemporary manuscript miscellanies (see Textual Essay, Electronic Edition). Two contemporary musical settings for the song exist, one by Nicholas Lanier and one by John Wilson (see Music Edition, Electronic Edition).
67 darts Cupid’s arrows are the darts of love, while Death was traditionally held to carry darts. Richard Barnfield’s 1594 Affectionate Shepherd has Love and Death exchange darts: ‘Love took up Death’s dart, / And Death took up Love’s arrow (for his part)’ (A4), and the comparison of Love’s and Death’s darts is a common trope. See Panofsky (1972), 124–5.
70 heat] F3; heart F2
70 as] F2 (as); and / Benson12mo.
72 to touch to meet.
73–4 ruin . . . fall i.e. The term ‘ruin’ applies both to buildings that blow up and to those that collapse. Jonson puns on the Latin ruo, -ere, ‘to fall’ (cf. Cat., 1.1.7).
74 or] F2 (or); and / Benson12mo.
75–6 Or just as we may die by lightning flash or by drowning.
77 brand] F2 (brand); band / Benson12mo.
78 May] F2 (May); Will / Benson12mo.
79–80 After presenting love and death as potentially destructive opposites, the lyric ends by according love and warmth a capacity to defeat death and cold. Eglamour, however, finds this difficult to believe.
86 kiss.] F2 (kisse,)
89 mine . . . her i.e. the number of potential kisses we would have shared had she lived.
89 SD] this edn; ‘Hee forces Amie to kisse him.’ in margin of lines 87–8 in F2
90 Now . . . you i.e. Like Karolin, I have to be satisfied with no more kisses.
90 And . . . wretch The only indication that, like Amie herself, Karolin is struck by Love’s dart as a result of the enforced kiss.
91 Yet Still.
91 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
92 generous noble.
95 Look Look at.
95 Look] F3; Lookes F2
96–7 Heliodore’s . . . Prodomi All were authors of celebrated and widely translated late Greek romances. Heliodorus (c. ad 220–50) was famous for his Aethopica, Achilles Tatius (second century ad) for Leucippe and Clitophon, Longus (dates unknown) for his pastoral Daphnis and Chloe, Eustathius (twelfth century ad) for Hysmine and Hysminias, and Prodromus (also medieval) for his verse narrative Rhodantes. It was characteristic of the genre to inflict terrible sufferings (often including the supposed death of the beloved) upon its protagonists but to win through – as Sad Shep. was apparently to do – to a happy ending at last. Examples of works by Heliodorus, Longus, and Eustathius survive from Jonson’s library.
99 who’ve] F2 (wh’have)
101 story i.e. exemplary model.
103 wold countryside.
103 wold] Wh; world F2
108 Belvoir] F2 (Be’voir)
108 Vale.] Wh; Vale? F2
108 SH lionel] Waldron; Kar. F2
108 sh lionel F2’s ‘Kar.’ is incorrect, as Karolin exits at line 91.
108 billing Turtle doves ‘bill’ or caress each others’ beaks, as a sign of affection.
110 simple pure.
110 sampled exemplary.
111 envied Pronounced with accent on second syllable, and rhymed with ‘beside’.
112–14 Alken’s ‘moral’ suggests that Robin and Marian do not need pity, as they are virtuous, and pity by others might lead to scorn.
1.6 ] Act Ⅰ. Scene Ⅳ. F2
0 SD] this edn; To Robin, &c. Marian. Iohn. Scarlet. Scathlock. F2
1.6 2 at full i.e. complete (two halves have come together).
5 so] F3; so so F2
6 she i.e. the morning.
7–8 sweet . . . inchpin Jonson found this list of the choicest parts of a deer in Turberville: ‘as for the dainty morsels . . . our use . . . is to take the caul, the tongue, the ears, the doucets, the tenderlings . . . and the sweet gut, which some call the inchpin’ (Noble Art, 134). Based on this passage, Potts emends F2’s ‘called’ to ‘caul’, a fatty membrane around the intestines (OED, n.1 5 a). This emendation improves the metre and sounds more idiomatic than ‘called . . .’. ‘Doucets’ are deer testicles, considered a delicacy; the ‘inchpin’ is the sweetbread, but as Greg hints, this word probably suggests ‘penis’ as well.
7 caul] Potts; call’d F2; calle H&S
9–10 One . . . wanted Robin puns on ‘wanton’ as ‘want one’. ‘On’ and ‘one’ were pronounced the same in this period.
11 grow to ‘be an organic or integral part of’ (OED, Grow v. Ⅰ 3 †b), but also punning on tumescence.
13 spirit ‘essence or extract from some substance, esp. one obtained by distillation’ (OED, n. Ⅴ 21 a). Jonson also puns on ‘spirit’ as ‘soul’ (OED, n. Ⅰ 2 a) and ‘breath’ (OED, n. Ⅳ 15 †b).
14 Breathe, breathe i.e. Take a rest from kissing.
20 i.e. We use our time in the spirit of schoolboys at play.
23 In . . . cry In full pursuit. Commonly said of hounds (OED, Cry n. Ⅰ 12 b).
23 hunted change followed the wrong scent (OED, Change n. 9).
24–5 staunch . . . friends From Turberville: ‘for old staunch hounds which will not hunt change, when they see an hart roused and before them, they never call on nor once open: but if they be young rash hounds they will run with full cry and so take change’ (Noble Art, 112).
26 relays sets of fresh hounds (OED, Relay n.1 1).
27 SH scarlet] F2 (Sca.)
29 Forkèd Said of antlers that fork to form a ‘Y’ shape at the top, resembling a double-pronged pitchfork (Turberville, Noble Art, 58). Deer with such antlers were especially prized.
30 i’the blood ‘in full vigour’ (OED, Blood n. Ⅱ 7), ripe for eating.
33 SD] this edn; in margin of F2 with note marker ‘∗’ in text and before the direction
34 SD] this edn; in margin of F2 with note marker ‘’ in text and before the direction
36 assay initial cut, ‘drawn alongst the brisket of the deer, somewhat lower than the brisket towards the belly. This is done to see the goodness of the flesh, and how thick it is’ (Turberville, Noble Art, 134).
36 SD] this edn; in margin of F2 with note marker ‘’ in text and before the direction
37 take the assay i.e. claim my share (in a kiss), punning on ‘assay’ from the previous line.
38 ’em According to the rules of modern grammar, ‘one’ should be used here, but, as Partridge notes: ‘The use of the plural pronoun they, them, their after one was quite frequent from the 17th c[entury]’ (1953b, §15).
38 arber’s made cut is made to take out the windpipe (‘arber’). Then, as Robin explains, the arber is ‘pulled down’, in language that is suggestive of undressing a lover.
38 arber’s] F2 (Arbors)
39 paunch stomach. According to Turberville, this is given in the field to the hounds as a reward (Noble Art, 135).
40–2 brisket-bone . . . raven’s bone From Turberville: ‘There is a little gristle which is upon the spoon of the brisket, which we call the raven’s bone, because it is cast up to the crows or ravens which attend hunters. And I have seen in some places, a raven so wont and accustomed to it, that she would never fail to croak and cry for it, all the while you were in breaking up of the deer’ (Noble Art, 135). The ‘spoon’ is a spoon-shaped cavity in the bone.
42 sat] F2 (sate)
43 sere bough withered branch.
49 made shift hurried.
50 sunk felled.
51 o’the] F2 (ô the)
55 Marian appears to address Lionel here, advising him to look after his shepherd friends (including, perhaps, Eglamour), while she tends to Amie. The addressee might, on the other hand, be Scathlock, because she refers to the deer that he has brought.
55 SD] Waldron (subst.); not in F2
56–60 Ay, qua . . . language Despite being brothers, Scathlock occasionally speaks in dialect but Scarlet never. None of the other members of Robin and Marian’s ‘family’, or ‘the guests invited’, employ it. Apart from Scathlock (and Earine at one moment (2.2.43–4) when she is ridiculing her unwelcome swineherd suitor), these northern speech forms are reserved for Maudlin, her son Lorel, and her daughter Douce, and serve to set them apart from the others.
56 qua suld let who should hinder. (Northern forms; see OED, Who.)
56 qua] F2 (qu’ha)
57 o’you] F2 (ô you)
59 give concede, yield.
59 them Robin draws a distinction between woodmen and shepherds here.
62 wise woman white witch (OED, 1), i.e. one who does good for a community; fortune-teller.
66 chimley chimney.
66 nuik Scotch form of ‘nook’ (OED).
1.7 ] Act Ⅰ. Scene Ⅶ. F2
0 SD] Waldron (subst.); To them / Marian. F2
1.7 0 sd Marian Given that in F2 no mention of Maudlin or disguise is made in the Argument or entry direction and that the speech headings of this scene all refer to Marian, it seems possible that the actor playing Marian enters here. If so, the audience will be as confused as the on-stage characters. In 3.4, the speech headings for Maudlin dressed as Marian also indicate that Marian speaks, until Maudlin returns in her own shape after line 45, but contrast the direction for Maudlin to enter ‘like Marian’ at 3.4.19. Jonson may have been influenced by Fletcher’s pastoral The Faithful Shepherdess (cf. Introduction), in which, through sorcery, the voice and exact appearance – although not the characteristic attitudes – of the virtuous Amoret are usurped by the lecherous Amaryllis, to the disgust of Amoret’s chaste suitor Perigot. Like Amaryllis, Maudlin (although she does temporarily shed her usual dialect forms) behaves in a way inconceivable as that of the Marian in whose likeness she appears. And it is significant that in both cases magic is used to simulate an exact likeness, not a mere disguise. It would be difficult for the actor playing Maudlin to signify this transformation by changing costume, as the stage business at 3.4.44ff. offers only one half of a line to effect such a change. It seems that Maudlin’s ‘magic’ transformation is either not rendered through a full change of costume, or that Jonson is exploring a sophisticated use of doubling. Such doubling would be dramatically economical, as simply having Maudlin-as-Marian played by the actor normally representing Marian would involve less effort than a series of quick costume changes. However, it should be noted that such potentially confusing doubling was not typical of stage practice in this period.
1 hunt huntsman.
1 holds continues.
2, 3, 19 SH maudlin] this edn; Mar. F2
2 cloudy frowning, threatening.
4 ranger forest officer, gamekeeper (OED, n.1 2 a), not usually pejorative, but here with a possible subtext of a male who ranges in pursuit of women or ranges with his hands over their bodies.
4 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
4 Sirrah Form of address to servants, often expressing contempt.
7 thank Singular form of ‘thanks’, now obsolete (Partridge, 1953a, §9b i).
11 ’turn return, give.
11 groom servant.
11 SD] Potts; not in F2
15 fear doubt.
20 spied espied, discovered.
24–31 Maudlin’s insults focus on rustic pursuits; she is jibing at the social standing of the huntsmen.
24–5 cheesecakes . . . ale Rustic dishes. ‘Curds’ were eaten as food, and ‘fools’ differed from modern fools, as they were made of clotted cream or custard, and apparently without fresh fruit (OED, Fool n.2 †1). ‘Flawns’ are flat custards or cheesecakes. F2’s spelling, ‘flaunes’, might point to a disyllabic pronunciation. Barnfield’s Affectionate Shepherd has a larder ‘Of cheese, of . . . curds and clotted cream’ (sig. C1v) and ‘syllabubs’ (sig. C2).
25 flawns] F2 (flaunes)
27 syllabubs Dishes ‘made of milk . . . or cream, curdled by the admixture of wine, cider, or other acid, and often sweetened and flavoured’ (OED, Sillabub 1 a).
28 fleece sheep (OED, n. 4).
29 baldric ‘A belt or girdle, usually of leather and richly ornamented, worn pendent from one shoulder across the breast and under the opposite arm, and used to support the wearer’s sword, bugle’ (OED, 1). Here it is worn to honour a guest.
29 baldric] F2 (Baudrick)
29 board table. Here Maudlin refers specifically to the rustic table made of turf (cf. 1.3.9n.).
30 go whistle proverbial for pursuing a fruitless labour (Dent, W313).
31 This Possibly referring to the hunt, or the rustic celebrations more generally.
31 foot it move your feet.
31 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
38 SD] G; not in F2
Argument 1 abuse deceive.
4 jealous suspicious.
8 shut . . . tree Although Ariel in Temp. is forcibly imprisoned in a pine by Sycorax and unhappy about it, certain forest nymphs (dryads and hamadryads) were supposed to inhabit trees by their own choice, free to come and go at will. Alken refers to such spirits at 2.8.52: ‘There in the stocks of trees white fays do dwell.’ Humans magically imprisoned in this way are invariably victims, and unhappy about their situation. Bagoa is forcibly incarcerated in Lyly’s comedy Endimion (1588), then released at the end by the power of Cynthia, a surrogate for Queen Elizabeth. As stage properties, hollow trees (some, as in William Percy’s The Faery Pastoral; or, Forrest of Elves (1603), equipped not only with doors, but with ‘a vice of wood to shut to’), appear in Revels accounts from the 1570s onward, and also in a number of stage directions. Jonson was clearly falling back on this long theatre tradition, but adapting it to his own elaborate perspective scene.
9 swineherd] F2 (swine’ard)
11 move not have no effect (on Earine).
11–22 such . . . with that he esteems.
13 rates berates.
15 broidered embroidered.
16 shepherdess] F2 (sheep’ardes)
22 farther] F2 (farder)
23 like herself i.e. not in disguise.
25 it the venison.
25 inwardly Implying that Maudlin does not opently disclose her anger, but also suggesting ‘with a low voice that does not pass the lips; in low tones spoken to oneself’ (OED, adv. 1 b). Cf. Maudlin’s mumbled chant at 2.6.56ff.
27 discovereth reveals.
28 mean means. ‘Mean’ could be singular or plural in the period (Partridge, 1953a, §9a i).
28 the sage shepherd Alken.
2.1 ] Act. Ⅱ. Scene. Ⅰ. F2
0 SD ] G (subst.); Maudlin, Douce, F2
2.1 1 brave excellent.
5 close end.
8 i.e. Their sharpest or most immediate senses.
10 solemn ceremonious.
11 sic such. This and other northern dialect forms are used throughout the passage.
11 sic] F2 (syke)
12 albe’ albeit (Partridge, 1953a, §69b iii). Disyllabic.
13 vaulting Turberville’s term for the male mounting the female deer in the rutting season (‘Of the rut and vault of harts’, Noble Art, 44–5).
13 vaulting] F2 (vauting)
13 venting giving off the scent (of a female deer in season). Turberville discusses the importance of scent to mating deer, and uses the term ‘vent’ (Noble Art, 45).
13 hind female deer.
14 ne’er] F2 (nêre)
14 fra northern dialect for ‘from’ (Partridge, 1953a, App. Ⅰ §9).
14 nese . . . wind smell her (nese = nose).
14 nese] F2 (neis)
15 distaste him cause displeasure in him.
15 distaste] Wh; distate F2
16 bate] F2 (’bate)
19–20 The idea of deceiving even the person being imitated is similarly expressed by Jonson in Volp., 2.4.34–6.
20 Whether Which.
20 liker more alike (Partridge, 1953a, §37).
20 of] F2 (off)
20 twa Arguably this could be ‘tway’, following the long ‘a’ in F2’s ‘twâ’, but ‘twa’ is used in the rest of F2 by Maudlin and Lorel (cf. 2.2.28, 40).
20 twa] F2 (twâ)
22 dight dressed.
22 out-dress outward dress, clothes.
24 weeds clothes.
25 ken range of sight.
26 show appear.
26 slippery (1) bright; (2) deceptive to appearances. Jonson uses the same phrase in Gypsies (Burley), 366, and Staple, 4.2.73, translating from Horace, Odes, 1.19.8: vultus nimium lubricus aspici.
28 rin run.
28 wage the odds wager.
29 ye are] F2 (yee’are)
30 stocked confined (as if she were in stocks), but also punning on ‘stock’ as ‘the trunk or stem of a (living) tree’ (OED, n.1 2 a).
31 largesse generosity.
32 lotted allotted.
32 mistress ‘woman who is loved and courted by a man’ (OED, n. Ⅰ 10 a).
33 Gif If. Dialect form.
33 reclaimed reduced to obedience, tamed (OED, v. Ⅰ 3 a).
34 claithèd clothed.
35 swineherds] F2 (Swine’ards)
35 sic] F2 (sike)
35–6 i’the . . . feeds i.e. in pigskin.
37 comand coming. It is characteristic of Maudlin’s northern dialect to use ‘–and’ for the ‘–ing’ ending (Partridge, 1953a, App. Ⅰ §13b).
37 comand] G, Waldron BL 643.g.15; command F2
38 The entrance described here would seem the normal place to commence scene 2.2, but is here as in F2, in accord with Jonson’s convention of placing the scene heading prior to the first speech of the entering person or persons.
38 opes opens.
40 ’ray array, dress.
2.2 ] Act Ⅱ. Scene Ⅱ. F2
2.2 This scene is modelled on Polyphemus’s wooing of Galatea in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, perhaps as translated by Sandys in 1632 a translation owned by Jonson. H&S claim that Jonson ‘did not use’ Ovid, but it seems likely, given the play’s other allusions to Sandys (cf. 1.3.54n., 2.6.26n.), that Jonson used it instead of, or as well as, Theocritus’s Idyll, 11 (Ovid’s source), which H&S put forward as Jonson’s only source.
0 SD ] this end; Lorel. Earine. Maudlin. Douce. F2
2 Deft Pretty (OED, 3).
2–3 cheese . . . curds Polyphemus brags of his ‘fresh curds and cream, with cheese well pressed’, and calls Galatea ‘softer than tender curds’ in Sandys (442, 441).
5 rents properties.
6 kye Northern form of ‘kine’, cows (Partridge, 1953a, App. Ⅰ §2). Lorel speaks, like his mother in the previous scene, a string of dialectical forms.
7 nase nose.
7 nase] F2 (na’se)
7 camussed ‘pug-nosed’ (OED, †Camois, camus, a. (and n.) 1).
8 bristled Sandys’s Polyphemus argues, ‘A manly face / A beard becomes; the skin rough bristles grace’ (442).
8 Pan Greek god of shepherds, with the upper body of a man and the lower body of a goat. ‘Great’ is an adjective often associated with him (cf. Pan’s Ann., 55, 203).
10 na no.
10 fay fairy.
10 incubus devil that seeks intercourse with women while they sleep.
10 changelin’ ‘child (usually stupid or ugly) supposed to have been left by fairies in exchange for one stolen’ (OED, Changeling A n. 3).
11 o’ my awn gear of my own possessions (cf. OED, Gear n. iii 9 †b Sc. and north. dial.).
12 stock livestock (OED, n.1 Ⅵ 54).
17 cloy satiate.
17 mercats markets. This is not necessarily dialect, as the word is spelled this way frequently in Jonson (cf. Und. 61.3; Devil, 1.1.10). Even so, it fits well with the many northernisms in this speech.
18 Whilk Which.
19 by live quickly (OED, Belive adv. 1).
20–3 H&S note that Jonson here follows Spenser’s Shepherd’s Calendar: ‘There grewe an aged Tree on the greene, / A goodly Oake sometime had it bene . . . / Whilome had bene the King of the field, / And mochell mast to the husband did yielde, / And with his nuts larded many swine’ (‘February’, 102–3, 109–10).
21 dur door.
22 mickle great. Although this term was in use in the period (cf. Grammar, 1.4.45 and n.), Jonson might have considered it dialectical, as his character that ‘Northern’ uses it in Bart. Fair, 4.4.95.
22 mast beech nuts (fed to swine) (OED, n.2 1).
22 ferm farm.
23 larded fattened.
23 mony many.
23 mony] F2 (money)
24 fra from.
25 kervèd carved.
27 gaing going. The word, used four times in the play, appears to be pronounced as a monosyllable, as reflected in F2’s spelling here (cf. collation), which becomes ‘gaing’ or ‘gaang’ at 2.3.28, 43, and 3.5.17.
27 gaing] F2 (gang)
28 Twa trilland brooks Two trilling, flowing brooks. These meeting brooks perhaps allude again to the Galatea myth. Galatea was a sea nymph, who turned her lover, Acis, into a stream after he was killed by Polyphemus. Sandys’s notes situate this transformation as an eternal mingling: ‘by the jealousy and envy of Polyphemus their happy union is divorced, yet now a river makes haste (for Acis signifies ‘swift’) to mingle his stream with Galatea, nor are they in their immortal parts to be separated’ (453).
31 Sandys’s Polyphemus says ‘my image in the brook / I lately saw, and therein pleasure took’ (442).
33 swineherds] F2 (Swine’ards)
34 Straight Straightaway.
37 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
39 bauson’s badger’s. This would be a particularly loathsome gift to a shepherdess, whose job it was to keep badgers away from her flock (cf. 1.4.32 and note). Polyphemus produces ‘a rugged bear’s rough twins’ for Galatea (Sandys, 442).
39 grice . . . grey cub of a badger.
40 urchins hedgehogs.
40 urchins] F2 (Urshins)
40 gay lively looking (OED, a., adv., and n. A 3).
41 Out An expression of indignation and reproach.
43 the fiend . . . thee Earine swears by ‘the fiend’ and Lorel, as if he is some kind of devil.
43 Gar . . . hence Cause them to be taken hence. ‘Gar’ means ‘to cause something to be done’ (OED, v. 2 †c). Waldron and Gifford mistakenly emend this to ‘Gae’, i.e. ‘go’.
43 fewmand soil, or cause to stink. ‘The form appears to be pseudo-dialectical, due to confusion with the Northern present participle’ (Partridge, 1953a, App. Ⅰ §12).
44 prick i.e. with their bristles.
44 limmer knavish (OED, n. and a. B).
44 lown loon, Scottish and northern dialect for a ‘worthless person’ (OED, Loon n.1 1). The phrase ‘limmer lown’ appears in the northern dialect of a contemporary witchcraft play, Late Lancashire Witches (Heywood and Brome, line 494).
45 thyself!] F2 (thy selfe,)
46 Ay,] Waldron; I F2
46 i.e. I’d rather be in the tree than have to endure your company.
46 SD] Waldron (subst.); not in F2
2.3 ] Act Ⅱ. Scene Ⅲ. F2
0 SD ] Waldron (subst.); Lorel. Maudlin. Douce. F2
2, 22 too] F2 (tu)
2.3 3 wishend wished. According to Partridge, this form is ‘pseudo-dialect’ (1953a, App. Ⅰ §11).
3 dritty dirty.
4 Gud A dialectical form of ‘good’.
4 duils Scottish form of ‘doles’, meaning ‘grieves’ (OED).
7 stinkand stinking.
7 polecat brown variety of ferret (OED, 3).
7 howlet owl.
8 madge-owl barn owl.
9 Thou’dst] G; Tho’ hadst F2
9 owl-spiegle owl-glass: ‘English rendering of Eulenspiegel, the name of a German jester of medieval times, the hero of an old German jest-book translated into English c1560; a prototype of roguish fools; hence, a jester, buffoon’ (OED, Owl-glass). Cf. Poet., 3.4.117, Fort. Isles, 145–6.
12 witty wise.
13 whame whom.
14 He A resourceful wooer.
14 them i.e. the women being wooed.
14 mare pleasand more pleasing.
15 woeman women.
16 the common . . . all i.e. the male reproductive organs. Perhaps also an allusion to Adam, who is often represented nude.
17 twire peep.
18 With which (That) with which.
18 gat got, begot.
18 he’s he shall.
20 gelden gelding.
20 Gang thy gait Go thy ways. This becomes a catchphrase for Maudlin.
21, 25 do] F2 (du)
21 turns business.
21–2 I’s . . . thee I shall see to it that your new breeches are taken from you.
21, 35 I’s] F2 (I’is)
22 breeks] F2 (breikes)
22 duiblet doublet.
23 tallor tailor.
23 tallor] F2 (Talleur)
23 sowter souter, cobbler.
23 undo] F2 (undu’)
24 except unless.
24 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
25 wairs worse.
26 geif give.
26 devil’s erse devil’s arse, a common vulgarity. It is also the name of a nearby cavern in the Peak District, which Jonson describes in Gypsies (Burley), 54 and n., (Windsor), 53–4, 742–3.
26 erse] F2 (eirs)
27 yoursel’] F2 (your sell)
28 To] F2 (Tu)
28 sheep’ards shepherds. F2’s spelling here differs from the ‘shep’ards’ appearing elsewhere for this play.
28 baudly boldly.
28 gaing (when you are) going.
29 frequent familiar (OED, a. 6 †c).
29 fugeand possibly ‘an alteration of figent’, meaning ‘restless’ (OED). Greg suggests that this might be dialect for fuging, or fleeing.
31 ga’ ’em gave them (to).
33 loom] F2 (Luime)
33 sall gar ’em shall cause them (to).
35 I’s pu’ I shall put, or pull. Maudlin is threatening to bring a world of trouble onto the shepherds’ heads. She may refer to ‘Nature’, because black magic includes the manipulation of natural events.
36 because] F2 (bycause)
37 today] F2 (tu day)
38 browdred embroidered.
38 characters letters, symbols.
39 Gypsan Gypsy, from ‘Egyptian’. Egyptian symbols supposedly related magical formulas. Cf. Alch.: ‘Was not all the knowledge / Of the Egyptians writ in mystic symbols’ (2.3.202–3). Sewing magic into fabric recalls also Othello’s handkerchief (Oth., 3.4.52ff.).
39 right beldam true witch.
40 starlight by starlight.
41 gran’am’s grandmother’s.
42 earthed interred.
42 shades shadows, dark of night.
42 Hecate Goddess of witchcraft. Disyllabic.
43 gaing-night night of visitation (by flying through the air). Cf. Queens, 48–52 and marginal notes 6 and 8.
43 kirkyard churchyard (northern and Scottish).
44 With all] F3; Withall F2
44 barkand barking.
44 barkand] Wh; barke and F2
44 tykes dogs.
45 sat whirland sat whirling. Jonson says of spindles in his note to Queens, ‘the spindle, in antiquity, was the chief’ tool of the witch (marginalium, 11). F2’s ‘sate’ is Jonson’s preferred spelling for sat and is probably not dialectical (Partridge, 1953a, §101d i).
45 sat] F2 (sate)
45 spindle short stick upon which thread was wound after it spun off the distaff.
46–9 Maudlin describes how, as she sat spinning near a turnstile (turnpike), her distaff (rock) whirled about with every twisting of the thread, feeding wool to the gypsy seamstress who sat beside her, enabling the gypsy to embroider a magical spell into the work.
46 thrid thread. This spelling is used in Jonson’s autograph MS of Queens (BL Royal 18.A.ⅩⅬ Ⅴ, fol. 4) and so might not be dialectical.
46 rock let fly distaff released some thread (OED, Rock n.2).
47 sewster person who sews.
48 turnpike ‘horizontal cross of timber turning on a vertical pin, set up to exclude horse-traffic from a foot-way: a turnstile’ (OED, n. Ⅰ †2).
50 take tent take heed.
50 ken (1) understand; (2) recognize (Maudlin in disguise).
50 SD] Waldron; not in F2
2.4 ] Act Ⅱ. Scene Ⅳ. F2
2.4 6 beat labour, thresh out (OED, Ⅰ †8).
9 vermin beasts, like wolves, that prey upon flocks. Compare Pan’s Ann., where it is said that Pan ‘Driv’st hence the wolf, the tod, the brock, / Or other vermin from the flock’ (217–18).
10 rot liver disease affecting sheep (OED, n.1 2).
11 fighting ‘feighting’ in F2, which H&S take to be ‘a misprint or inadvertently dialectal’, but Jonson uses ‘feight’ in Grammar, 1.4.25.
11 fighting] F2 (feighting)
12 bag udder.
15 razed scratched.
16 nigher closer, presumably to her ‘self’.
21 Alas A sigh. This and those at lines 24, 27, and 31 are extra-metrical.
23 somewhat higher Perhaps alluding to Amie’s awakening sexual desire.
25 curst angry.
30 print imprint, mark.
32 birth offspring.
33 cleft the earth i.e. cracked the soil.
37 purling rippling (OED, ppl. a.).
41 drave drove. This form is used by Jonson in Sej., 4.190, and Queens, 540 (Partridge, 1953a, §88).
42 fells skins with wool (OED, n.1 1 a), unlike 1.4.25, where ‘fell’ refers to the skin alone.
44–5 Amie’s complaint remembers and applies to herself the imagery of the song Karolin sang in 1.5 about the extremes of love’s heat and death’s cold.
2.5 ] Act Ⅱ. Scene Ⅴ. F2
1, 4 SD] this edn; in margin of F2 as one direction
1, 23, 41 Oh,] F2 (O’)
2.5 3 Marian’s metaphor is that of the planets and heavenly bodies, each moving obediently in its proper sphere around the sun.
4–8 Robin recalls the taunts that ‘Marian’ had spoken, 1.7.4–3.
6 Thrice Most. ‘Thrice’ was a stock intensifying adverb.
7 starved] F2 (sterv’d)
9 Unfold Explain.
13 charge command.
14 Both The word can have more than two objects (cf. OED, a. and adv. B 1 b).
15 shepherds] F2 (Shep’ards)
17 Be . . . made Do not allow yourselves to be compelled.
22 off] F2 (of)
22 since (1) since then; or, (2) because (if printed without a comma as in F2).
22 since,] F2 (Since)
23 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
25 I’ (1) In; or, (2) Ay (if printed without apostrophe and with comma, as in F2).
25 I’] F2 (I); Ay, Waldron; I, F3
25 madam Accent on the second syllable, as at 2.5.27, 2.6.2, and 3.5.1.
26–8 ha’ you . . . commaunds Marian takes up Scathlock’s accent in repeating his words to him.
27 hests behests.
29 kennel i.e. take shelter.
30 read ‘teach . . . by (or as by) reading aloud’ (OED, v. Ⅰ †12 a).
31 countenance sanction, encourage.
32–3 Or . . . jealousies Or are these imagined jealousies sports to entertain your friends?
33 formèd imagined (OED, Form v.1 4 b†).
37 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
40–1 What . . . good Do whatever you have decided to do with me.
42 is, is Gifford emends this to ‘is’, but both metre and sense are stronger as it stands.
42 is, is] F2; is G
46 SD] G (subst.); not in F2
2.6 ] Act Ⅱ. Scene Ⅵ. F2
0 SD] To them] this edn; flush right in F2
2.6 1 SD after i.e. later in the scene, at 46 sd.
2 late recent.
2 received,] F2 (receiv’d)
3 crakes (1) boasts (OED, Crake v.2); (2) utters a grating cry like a crow (OED, v.1 1).
5 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
5 Send i.e. How kind of you to send. (Maudlin is not requesting that Marian send a stag.)
8–9 ] lineation F3; one line in F2
11 beadswoman (1) ‘one paid or endowed to pray for others’ (OED, Beadsman n. 2), i.e. Maudlin will pray for Marian in return for the venison; (2) ‘humble servant’, said by inferiors to patrons (OED, n. †5).
12 owe own, acknowledge.
13 do] F2 (du)
13 go round spin round.
14 toy (1) ‘odd conceit’ (OED, n. Ⅰ †4 a); (2) ‘sportive or frisky movement’ (OED, n. Ⅰ †2).
14 toy] F2; joy G; Waldron (conj.) (p. 137)
14 turn (1) deed; (2) literally, the turning around which accompanies her song.
14 SD] this edn; in margin of F2; ‘while . . . linesWaldron BL c.45, c.4
14 SD turns round Circular and spinning movements seem to have been associated with the black arts. See Richard Brathwaite’s The Complete Gentlewoman (1631), which describes ‘the Devil’s procession, where the dance is the circle, whose centre is the Devil’ (77, suggested by Barbara Ravelhofer in private correspondence).
16 I’m] Wh; I’ am F2
20–1 to fume . . . brain Alcohol was held to rise or ‘fume up’ to affect the brain (cf. OED, Fume v. 3 †b).
22 swoon faint. Jonson rhymes ‘swoun’ (‘swoon’) with ‘groun’ similarly in Horace, Art of Poetry, 613–14.
22 swoon] F2 (Swoune)
22 groun’] F2 (growne)
26 wildings crab apples.
26 scald ‘heat liquid to a point just short of boiling point’ (OED, v. Ⅰ 4 a). The idea for this dish seems to come from Sandys’s (1632) translation of Ovid’s Metamorphoses (a book in Jonson’s library), which mentions ‘scalded wildings’ in the wooing of Galatea by the Cyclops (441). Sandys felt the need to defend his rustic translation of Ovid’s arbuteus foetus to ‘wildings’ as ‘a familiar word, [but] not less agreeable to the subject’. Wildings are also the ‘strawberries of the wood’ in Sandys’s translation (and in Ovid’s original), probably providing the association between the two fruit to Jonson (Sandys, 3 and note).
27 Maudlin Waldron conjectures ‘Maud’ for the metre and the rhyme with ‘scald’ (Waldron, pp. 135–6). The manuscript behind the printed text may have confusingly written ‘Maud.’ for ‘Maud’, as F2 prints the diminutive name with a full stop at 3.1.6 and 3.2.11. But note that lines 28–9 are not rhymed as a couplet.
29 SD] this edn; not in F2
33 take i.e. retain.
34 we’d] F2 (wee’lld)
36 knaw know.
38 departit parted, divided. Maudlin’s pretence that she charitably distributed the venison among her ‘poor neighbours’ is revealed almost at once as a lie when Scathlock enters carrying on his shoulders the entire stag, as it originally lay in Robin Hood’s kitchen.
39 speak your largesse proclaim your generosity.
43 ravished seized.
44 I lose . . . thanks Maudlin’s thanks are here rejected by Marian, an unwilling giver. For this obsolete, active sense of ‘lose’, cf. OED, †2 a. Compare also Und. 13, Jonson’s remodelling of Seneca’s ‘Of Benefits’: ‘Can I owe thanks for courtesies received / Against his will that does ’em[?]’ (25–6).
44 lose] F3; loose F2
45 quest line of enquiry.
46 quality sort.
46 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
49 two legs Turberville describes the shoulders being taken out in the field (Noble Art, 134–5), so Scathlock is referring to the rear legs, or haunches, which, together with the sides, make up the best parts of the deer (cf. 58 below).
49 dress prepare.
50 ’Slid By God’s eyelid (an oath).
50 swineherd] F2 (Swine’ard)
51 big strong.
51 carl churl, ‘fellow of low birth’ (OED, n.1 2).
51 lewd base, ill-bred.
51 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
54–5 Marian’s point is that Maudlin has no right to upbraid her for giving while also taking, since Maudlin had supposedly given some of the deer to her neighbours. Marian’s sarcasm here picks up and emphasizes Maudlin’s lie.
55 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
56 broaches spits (OED, Broach n.1 Ⅰ 2).
60 devil’s paternoster ‘murmured or muttered imprecation’ (OED, Paternoster n. 2), but here also literally a witch’s inversion of prayer.
61 SD] Potts; 2. in margin of F2
62 swilland swilling, drenching (cf. OED, Swill v. 1).
62 dropsy ‘morbid condition characterized by the accumulation of watery fluid in the serous cavities or the connective tissue of the body’ (OED, n. (a.) A 1 a).
63 cuke cook.
64 mortmal mormal, an inflamed sore (OED, Mormal 1).
65 withouten blin without end.
66 we (so that) we.
66 matins morning prayers. Compare ‘devil’s paternoster’, 60n. above.
66 SD] Potts; 3. in margin of F2
67 pain] F2 (Pæne); Pœne H&S
67 Saint Anton’s fire St Anthony’s fire, ‘a popular name of erysipelas’, a skin inflammation (OED, Anthony (St)).
76 Oh, oh!] F2 (O’, ô.)
77–117 H&S point out that Jonson’s source for this passage is Henri Estienne’s Moschi, Bionis, Theocriti idyllia aliquot ab Henrico Stephano Latina facta (1555), sigs. C1v–2, which Jonson follows closely.
77 Oh,] F2 (O’)
77 sh maudlin Gifford argues that ‘the speeches given to Maudlin in this part of the dialogue, do not seem to belong to her. There is indeed a spirit of contradiction in them; but of far too gentle a nature for the witch. I believe that they should be set down to Marian’s account.’ The text might be corrupt here, but as Greg (1905) points out, the Argument of the Act and the speech headings assign the mocks to her.
79 Ay] F2 (I’)
81 Karol . . . me In my eyes, Karol is the only handsome man.
83 Perhaps playing on his name; cf. 3.4.12.
86 angel ‘harbinger’ (Whalley).
87 nightingale A bird that sings at night, and thus is appropriate for Amie’s love melancholy.
88 agone ago (A poetic form; Partridge, 1953a, §60.)
95 This . . . but Just this very morning (cf. OED, But prep., conj., adv. B 6 b).
97 silly simple.
97 silly] F2 (seelie)
98 wish desire.
101 relish taste.
108 roe fawn fawn of the roe deer, a smaller species than the red deer hunted in the play.
109 out-skipping bounds large, frolicking leaps.
111 his i.e. his kisses.
112–13 for . . . dull i.e. because the deer’s kisses were so lacking in the feeling that Karolin’s kiss gave.
113 wish no more i.e. do not desire any more (of them).
119 This line is apparently not fully heard by those onstage.
119 off] F2 (of)
119 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
122 shrewd malignant.
122 piece Depreciatory term for a woman (OED, n. Ⅱ 9 b).
125 really Trisyllabic.
2.7 ] Act Ⅱ. Scene Ⅶ. F2
0 SD To them] this edn; flush right in F2
2.7 3 Laces used to fasten clothing.
4 rack acute pain.
5 spondyles vertebrae (OED, †1).
6 now at one moment.
8 his either hand both his hands (Partridge, 1953b, §77b).
9 Than . . . office Than a dead stump could manage to do his cooking.
10 an argument evidence.
12 device scheme.
14 shepherd] F2 (Shep’ard)
15 walks frequented paths, part of the administrative divisions of a forest.
16–21 prick . . . starting Witches were thought to transform themselves into hares and other animals to elude their pursuers. As a beast to be hunted at force (i.e. with hounds) the hare was almost as highly esteemed as the hart, principally because of its intelligence and skill at laying false trails and baffling the dogs. A great many folk beliefs clustered around it: that it was a powerful trickster, deceiving animals much larger and more powerful than itself (including humans), that it changed its sex every year or contained both sexes in one, and, especially, that witches frequently took this shape. In the seventeenth-century Scottish witch trials, it emerged that the hare was the animal into which the accused were said most often to transform themselves.
16 prick look for the tracks of a hare (OED, v. B Ⅰ 6b). Compare Turberville: ‘find the footing of the hare (which we call pricking)’ (Noble Art, 169). Here and throughout the search for Maudlin, Turberville’s hunting terms are used.
17 creature of melancholy Cf. Turberville: ‘The hare first taught us the use of the herb called wild succour, which is very excellent for those which are disposed to be melancholic. She herself is one of the most melancholic beasts that is, and to heal her own infirmities, she goeth commonly to sit under that herb . . .’ (Noble Art, 160). ‘Creature’ is trisyllabic.
18 or either.
18 form lair of a hare (OED, n. Ⅱ 21 a).
19 at relief seeking food (said of hares) (OED, Relief2 †8 a).
19 relief Perhaps accented on the first syllable here.
21 starting forcing (a hare) to leave its lair (cf. OED, Start v. Ⅱ 17 a).
21 SD the rest i.e. Amie, Mellifleur, and Lionel.
21 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
25 SD] Waldron (subst.); not in F2
2.8 ] Act Ⅱ. Scene Ⅷ. F2
2.8 0 SD These foresters remain onstage till the end of the scene, at which point they and Alken will go to hunt for the hag as Robin has just instructed (2.7.21–2).
0 SD] Waldron (subst.); John. Scarlet. Scathlock. George. Alken. F2
2 advise upon’t consider it.
3 An If.
4 SH scathlock] F2 (Sca.); Scat. F3; Scar. / Potts
4–5 formeth . . . south ‘. . . a huntsman must mark in what place the hare sitteth, and upon what wind she made her form. For if she form either upon the north wind, or upon the south wind, she will not willingly run into the wind, but will run upon a side wind, or else down the wind’ (Turberville, Noble Art, 163).
6 A witch . . . hare Throughout this scene, in which the hunting of Maudlin is discussed and planned, Jonson deliberately confuses her animal with her human identity. Robin Hood’s men plan to track down a creature which is not simply a woman, nor simply a hare, but mysteriously and simultaneously both. In this way, he manages to deflect the revulsion that might be felt at the idea of a human, however wicked, being hunted at force like an animal.
6 marks the weather Cf. Turberville: ‘The hare’ doth naturally know the change of weather from 24 hours to 24 hours’ (Noble Art, 160).
7 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
8–12 I have . . . hairs Alken, ‘the sage’, the only elderly character in the play, has previously been kept in the background. Now, and throughout this scene, he moves forward into what was clearly going to remain a dominant position. Remembering what Jonson told Drummond in 1619 about the lost May-lord – that his own name in that pastoral was ‘Alken’ – it is tempting to see the old shepherd here as a kind of authorial surrogate.
10 Father A respectful address to an old man.
11 more courtesy more courtesy than to jeer at honoured age.
12 eld old age.
12 peels . . . hairs i.e. strips himself of his beard (by being childlike). Compare Thomas D’Urfey, Don Quixote, part Ⅱ (1694): ‘. . . the hairs shall peel from these disconsolate faces, and every chin be smooth as infant beauty’ (sig. F1).
12 off] F2 (of)
13 dell pit.
15–68 Alken’s description of Maudlin’s home and powers accords with traditional witchcraft lore. See in particular Queens, details of which Jonson recycles in this play.
15 dimble See ‘The Persons of the Play’, 31 and note.
16 brakes thickets.
17 shaken earthquake-damaged.
19 grots grottos, caves or dens (cf. Florio, ‘Grotta’, LEME).
21 melancholic Accent on the second syllable.
21–2 that . . . about i.e. her business, witchcraft.
22 kells cocoons (OED, 3 b).
23 rounded in with surrounded by.
26 Lincolnshire This low-lying county is prone to flooding.
27 cast give birth prematurely to (OED, v. Ⅲ 21).
27 farrow young pigs (OED, n. 1).
28 tun brewing-vat (OED, n. 1 c).
29 Writhe . . . wrists Twist children’s wrists to cause them serious injury.
29 suck . . . sleep Behaviour Jonson ascribes to witches in Queens, 468 and marginalium 23, giving notes for his sources.
30 Get . . . blood The blood would be used to cast spells.
31–2 weed . . . locks with H&S cite Gerard’s Herbal, which says of moonwort: ‘It hath been used among the alchemists and witches to do wonders withall, who say, that it will loose locks . . . and [it] hath been called of them Martagon’ (329). Pliny also mentions ‘onothuris’ as a plant by which ‘all things shut are opened’ (Nat. Hist., 26.9). The witches apparently need to open door locks to gain access to their victims.
32 rivet fix, make permanent.
33 feat performance.
36 witch’s banks Because Maudlin lives in a ‘dimble’ or ‘pit’ (15, 16 above), her home is surrounded by rising ground. The staging of the play requires ‘a piper’s bank’ (1.3.14) and ‘a bank’ for Eglamour to sit upon (1.5.0 SD). It seems likely that these banks might also be employed as the setting for Maudlin’s dimble.
38 Yes . . . more Scarlet replies to George that Maudlin’s pranks are done with malice, and are therefore more dangerous.
39 SH scathlock] F2 (Sca.); Scat. F3
40 his i.e. Alken’s.
40 collects collections (of knowledge about witchcraft).
40 good F2’s ‘gud’ (cf. collation) is a dialectical form in the play, but George does not otherwise speak dialect, and F2 has him say ‘good’ at 1.3.8.
40 good] F2 (gud)
41 shifts evasions.
44 dead-numbing] F2 (dead-numming)
44 nightshade Often known as ‘deadly nightshade’, this plant is very poisonous if ingested: ‘this kind of nightshade causeth sleep, troubleth the mind, bringeth madness if a few of the berries be inwardly taken, but if mo[re] be given they also kill and bring present death’ (Gerard, Herbal, 270).
45 hemlock ‘Hemlock is a very evil, dangerous, hurtful, and poisonous herb, insomuch that whosoever taketh of it into his body dieth remediless’ (Gerard, Herbal, 904).
45 adder’s tongue Beneficent plant, probably mentioned for its sinister-sounding name, which derives from a tonguelike stalk which grows from the leaf (Gerard, Herbal, 327).
46 martagon This may be the Turk’s-cap lily, as F. E. Schelling ed., Typical Elizabethan Plays (1926), and H&S have it. Gerard’s Herbal, however, describes this ‘lily of Constantinople’, coupled with the white garden lily, as generally beneficent, as it ‘expelleth poison of the pestilence’ (147). Jonson here seems to use ‘martagon’ as another name for ‘moonwort’, as he does in Queens, marginalium 27, which also lists adder’s tongue as a plant appropriate for black magic. See also Gerard’s mention of ‘martagon’ as a common name for moonwort (in 31–2n. above).
46 martagon] F2 (Martagan)
46 luckless owls owls (traditionally harbingers of ill) that forebode bad luck.
48 blue ‘said of a pale flame . . . without red glare’, and also the colour of burning brimstone, and hence connected with the devil (OED, a. Ⅰ 1 c).
48 firedrakes dragons. Witches are said to turn into blue drakes in Queens, 260.
49 flitter-mice bats.
50 habergeons jackets of mail, i.e. wing-cases.
53 span-long hand-high.
56 sphere of fire empyreum, highest heaven. This was thought to be the sphere between the air (of earth) and the moon.
58 ] this edn; brackets surrounding ‘o’re . . . crept’ in F2
58 rotten wood Rotten wood glows because of the bioluminescence of fungus growing on it. It was thought that glow-worms touching the wood caused it to glow.
59 nocent harmful.
61 puppets dolls used to cast spells.
61 sigilla ‘the plural of the diminutive of signum, used for small images such as the Romans gave one another at the feast of the Sigilaria . . . Here used for the waxen images which played so important a rôle in black magic’ (Greg, 1905). The OED suggests that this term is not otherwise used in English. Jonson’s witches in Queens also use ‘pictures full of wax and of wool’ for their charms (line 84).
63 you her] F2 (you’her)
64 scut tail (of a hare). ‘If when a hare riseth out of the form, she set up her ears, and run not very fast at the first, and cast up her scut upon her back, it is a token that it is an old and crafty hare’ (Turberville, Noble Art, 161). The term also suggests ‘pudendum’.
66 law ‘allowance in time or distance made to an animal that is to be hunted’ (OED, n.1 Ⅳ 20 a). Turberville emphasizes that the hunter must hold back: ‘When a hare is put up, you must give her ground (which is called law) twelve-score yards or more, according to the ground and country where she sitteth, and then let slip your greyhounds’ (Noble Art, 246).
67 leaps . . . paths These descriptions of the hare’s subtlety come from Turberville: ‘For when she [the hare] goeth to her form, she doth commonly beat the highways . . . doubling, crossing, and leaping as lightly as she can’ (Noble Art, 174). ‘Doubling’ is turning back on the same course; ‘crossing’ is turning to bisect a previous track. Both methods can deceive dogs following a scent.
71 blast trumpet call, i.e. noteworthy event.
72 stinking Turberville writes that some hares have particularly strong scents, and are therefore easier to hunt: ‘. . . also you have some hares, which naturally give some of them greater scent than some others, and are much more eagerly hunted and chased by the hounds, as these great wood hares, and such as are foul and measled’ (Noble Art, 168).
73 her] F3; heir F2
73 heir Scathlock presumably means Maudlin’s son Lorel, who threatened him when he came to recover the venison.
74 so haw Correct hunting cry for when a hare is started: ‘at the hallow to an hare you say, Haw, haw, haw, here, haw, here, etc. Whereas in hallowing of a deer you say when the hounds come in, That’s he, that’s he, to him, to him, to him, etc.’ (Turberville, Noble Art, 169).
75 I’m] F2 (I’am)
75 SD] G; not in F2
Argument 1 discovers himself is revealed to be onstage.
1–2 discourseth . . . briefly i.e. briefly soliloquizes on his role and duties, and why they are important.
2 habit costume.
The Argument of the Third Act 6, 26 fant’sy] F2 (phantsie)
8 of . . . still i.e. because Eglamour is still mistaken in thinking that Earine is alive.
9 regret] F2 (regreet)
18 daughter] F2; goblin Waldron
18 daughter Waldron suggests this might be ‘goblin’ or similar, to match the action of the play, in which Puck rescues Maudlin. The Argument here perhaps reflects an earlier design for the scene, but the Argument itself is not accurate as a synopsis of what occurs in Act 3 as we have it.
19 make the relation tell the story.
22 footing footsteps.
24 superstitious idolatrous, in the tradition of worshipping one’s love.
27 make love to woo.
27–8 there . . . suddenly This kind of stage effect (probably produced by smoke) seems to have been possible to achieve even in the public theatres at the time. Cf. Cat., 1.1.312.
36 simples medicinal herbs.
36–7 prevents . . . still i.e. Puck Hairy will sabotage Maudlin’s intentions to show the error of her ways.
37 shows her] F2; shows <her> her H&S
38 track] F2 (tract)
38 takes her form hides herself in her lair.
38 Enter Alken] F2 (Enter, Alken); Enter [the huntsmen,] Alken G; Enter <the Hunts-men, led by Alken>, Alken / H&S
39 images the ‘puppets’ and ‘sigilla’ of 2.8.61.
42 overhasty to apprehend Compare Turberville’s advice in 2.8.66n. above.
3.1 ] Act Ⅲ. Scene Ⅰ. F2
3.1 1–3 The joke here seems to reside in Puck Hairy’s elevation of his clandestine and mischievous meddling in the affairs of grammar schools, ordinary families, and even places of higher education (academies), to a burdensome but necessary task undertaken for the good of all concerned.
2 father . . . family A similar parodic usage is employed in Volp., 1.5.47–8: ‘The dwarf, the fool, the eunuch are all his; / He’s the true father of his family.’
5 turns changes of events.
6 This . . . mine This witch whom I serve. (Puck Hairy does not mean that Maudlin is his mother.)
6 Maud] F2 (Maud.)
10 still always.
11 divers] F2 (diverse)
11 divers (1) various; (2) diverse (the F2 spelling).
13 catch pursuit (OED, n.1 †4 Sc.).
15 firk it jerk about in a lively manner.
19 SD] Waldron (subst.); not in F2
3.2 ] Act Ⅲ. Scene Ⅱ. F2
0 SD ] this edn; Karol. Douce, to them Aeglamour. F2
1, 10, 13, 37 SH KAROLIN] F2 (Kar.)
3.2 1 Sure Surely.
3 ’gainst in anticipation of.
5 t’enjoy] F2; to enjoy G
6 acceptable gladly received. Accent on the first and third syllables.
8 garland] F3; Ghirland F2
10 bade] Wh; bad F2
10 goodwoman] F2 (good Woman)
10 goodwoman mistress of a household.
11 Maud] F2 (Maud.)
11 SD, 12 SD] separated in G; run together at line 11 in margin F2 (Aeglamour enters, and Douce goes out.)
21 majesties . . . violated i.e. kingliness not questioned. Perhaps Eglamour believes that kingliness is sustained because the lust is committed secretly, or because no one is prepared to challenge it.
22 SH KAROLIN] F2 (Car.)
22 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
23 as chaste . . . Earine i.e. as pure as a spring.
24–32 And now . . . planeting In the old Ptolomaic model of the universe (by this time disproved by Copernicus and Galileo, but still a fruitful source of imagery for poets like Jonson and Donne, even if they no longer actually believed it) the heavenly bodies were mounted on interlocking, transparent concentric spheres, all of which ceaselessly orbited the earth, which was stationary at the centre. In Eglamour’s mad imagination, Earine’s spirit has joined them and restored the heavenly music which the spheres were said once to have produced as they circled the earth. Also see 2.5.2–3, where Marian, running into Robin’s arms, sees them as the sphere in which she, like an astral body, is properly contained.
27 whisper whisper to.
30 Just . . . midst Heavenly bodies were thought to be distant from the earth in this order: the moon, Mercury, Venus, the sun, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn. ‘Phoebus’, or the sun, is fourth of seven, or ‘just in the midst’.
32 planeting Jonson here gives the noun ‘planet’ a verb form, meaning ‘singing of the planets’ (cf. Partridge, 1953b, §10).
33 Oh,] F2 (O’)
35 speculation (1) contemplation (OED, Ⅱ 4); (2) ‘observation of the heavens’ (OED, 2 Ⅰ †2 b).
36 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
37 cogitation thought.
40 spece] F2 (speece)
40 spece species, sort.
42 this eighth sphere i.e. a new sphere, represented by Earine, existing alongside the seven listed in lines 26–31.
43 lose] F2 (loose)
43 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
3.3 ] Act Ⅲ. Scene Ⅲ. F2
0 SD] this edn; Clarion. Lionell. Karol. F2
1 Oh,] F2 (O’,)
3 SH KAROLIN] F2 (Kar.)
3 lost] Waldron; last F2
3.3 3 lost man i.e. Eglamour. Waldron, Gifford, and H&S change F2’s ‘last’ to ‘lost’. Only if ‘last’ is taken to mean ‘utmost’, or ‘unsurpassed’ does the passage makes sense as it stands in F2, but this seems unlikely given Robin’s social superiority to Eglamour.
5 starts . . . hand Eglamour darts away from any gentle touch. The metaphor is from handling horses or hawks.
8 haggard or unmanned wild or untamed. (Hawking terms.)
9 Eglamour seizes upon every wild, fanciful notion that comes into his imagination.
9 fant’sy] F2 (phantsy)
14 he’s . . . hearers he’s adopted the strange ideas that they are auditors (as opposed to producers of heavenly sound).
15 strained overwrought.
15 fant’sy] F2 (phant’sie)
18 accident event, happening.
19 desires requires (OED, v. †3).
19 SD] Waldron; not in F2
3.4 ] F2 (Act Ⅲ. Scene Ⅳ.); no new scene in G
3.4 F2’s placement of this scene division appears out of keeping with the folio’s normal practice, in which scenes change when new characters enter. Following this convention, the entry of Maudlin and Douce at line 19 below may be a more apt point for the division, as Gifford suggests.
0 SD] this edn; Karol. Lionell. F2
1 SH KAROLIN] F2 (Kar.)
3–4 ‘The metaphor borrowed from measuring things with a compass, which hath one foot fixed, and the other extended to form the circle’ (Whalley).
5 window . . . bosom Alluding to the myth of Momus, a minor god known for his railing, who accused Vulcan of folly for not placing a window in men’s breasts, to reveal their inner thoughts.
6 thorough through (Partridge, 1953a, §66e).
7–8 liver . . . live is In this period the ‘liver’ was thought, with the heart, to be the seat of love.
8 is,] this edn; is. F2; is: Wh
8 whence from where.
14 stand hunting stand, where the archer awaits prey.
15 runs . . . divisions sings his melodies (OED, Division Ⅰ †7).
19 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
20, 31, 44, 45 SH maudlin] Wh; Mar. F2
20 Whither . . . you Where are you going?
22 This maiden i.e. Douce.
25 Have That have.
28 to a] F2 (to’a)
29 feared were apprehensive about (OED, Fear Ⅱ 8 a†).
33 deft skillful.
36 SD] this edn; ‘They goe out.’ in margin of F2
37 her extremes i.e. the extremes of (natural) pining for a lover.
38 SH KAROLIN] F2 (Kar.)
38–9 Then . . . deficient i.e. Art seems most necessary when nature cannot effect its own cures. ‘Real’ is ‘having an absolute and necessary, in contrast to a merely contingent, existence’ (OED, a.2, adv., n.3 A. Ⅰ. 1. b).
39 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
43, 45.1–2, 45.3 SD] this edn; in margin as one direction in F2
45 SD run but … runs in It appears that both ‘out’ and ‘in’ refer to the same offstage space here.
45 my friend i.e. Lionel.
46 outlaw Maudlin’s accusation here – and again at 3.5.3, where she terms him ‘the strong thief, Robin outlaw’ – constitutes the only indication in Jonson’s play of Robin Hood’s traditional status. See Introduction.
48 gripe] F2 (gripe)
48 gripe grip.
48 charmèd circle It was common for sorcerers and conjurors of both sexes to make use in some way of a circle, a geometric form widely and long believed to possess magical properties.
49 The copy i.e. (That which is responsible for) the copy (of Marian).
49 cozened cheated, deceived.
51 upon the start ‘suddenly, without warning’ (OED, Start n.2 4†c).
52 course pursue (as if game), hunt.
54 stiles steps for passing over fences.
56 SD] Waldron (subst.); not in F2
57 piecing of mending.
3.5 ] Act Ⅲ. Scene Ⅴ. F2
0 SD] G; Maud. Puck. F2
4 They are] F2 (They’are)
3.5 4 clouds Punning on ‘clouts’, or strips of cloth (like the belt).
4 threat that threaten.
9 occasions good opportunities.
10 Sail . . . eggshell Referring to the belief that witches sail in eggshells. Cf. Queens: ‘We all must home i’the eggshell sail; / The mast is made of a great pin, / The tackle of cobweb, the sail as thin’ (250–2). Cf. Macbeth, 1.3.8: ‘in a sieve I’ll thither sail’.
11 cloth sail.
15 pilot helmsman, continuing the metaphorical positioning of Maudlin as a ship at sea.
17 Lucky Form of address showing endearment (OED, a. 6 Sc.).
16 SD] this edn; in margin of F2
17 gaing] F2 (gaang)
17 gaing F2’s ‘gaang’ may be one of Jonson’s pseudo-dialect forms, but ‘ga’ing’ is used elsewhere in the dialect of F2 (2.2.27, 2.3.28, 2.3.43).
18–19 Gang . . . luck i.e. Go on your way and try your chances to better effect.
20 THE END Presumably meaning the end of the play as it survived and was printed in F2, although it breaks off abruptly in the middle of the third act, not even completing the action described in its Argument. See Introduction.
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You will not rob me, See more
Hand off, rude See more
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Hand off, rude See more
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1.5   [Enter] KAROLIN. Eglamour sitting upon a bank by.

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