Edward the First - Scene 7
[SCENE VII.]
Enter M ORTIMER , L LUELLEN , M EREDITH , [ and the Lady E LINOR ].
Mortimer . Farewell, Lluellen, with thy loving Nell.
Lluellen . God-a-mercy, Mortimer; and so farewell.
Rice ap Mer . Farewell and be hanged, false Sinon's serpent brood.
Lluellen . Good words, Sir Rice: wrongs have best remedy,
So taken with time, patience, and policy.
But where is the friar? who can tell?
Enter Friar.
Friar . That can I, master, very well;
And say, i'faith, what hath befel,
Must we at once to heaven or hell?
Elinor . To heaven, friar! friar, no, fie!
Such heavy souls mount not so high.
Friar [ lies down ]. Then, friar, lie thee down and die;
And if any ask the reason why,
Answer and say thou canst not tell,
Unless because thou must to hell.
Elinor. No, friar, because thou didst rebel:
Gentle Sir Rice, ring out thy knell.
Lluellen . And Maddock toll thy passing-bell.
So, there lies a straw,
And now to the law.
Masters and friends; naked came we into the world, naked are we turned out of the good towns into the wilderness. Let me see; mass, methinks we are a handsome commonwealth, a handful of good fellows, set a-sunning to dog on our own discretion. What say you, sir[s]? We are enough to keep a passage: will you be ruled by me? We'll get the next day from Brecknock the Book of Robin Hood; the friar he shall instruct us in this cause, and we'll even here fare and well: since the king hath put us amongst the discarding cards, and, as it were, turned us with deuces and treys out of the deck, every man take his standing on Mannock-deny, and wander like irregulars up and down the wilderness. I'll be Master of Misrule, I'll be Robin Hood, that's once: cousin Rice, thou shalt be Little John: and here's Friar David as fit as a die for Friar Tuck. Now, my sweet Nell, if you will make up the mess with a good heart for Maid Marian, and dwell with Lluellen under the green-wood trees, with as good a will as in the good towns, why, plena est curia .
Elinor . My sweetest love, and this my infract fortune
Could never vaunt her sovereignty,
And shouldst thou pass the ford of Phlegethon,
Or with Leander swim the Hellespont,
In deserts Æthiopian ever dwell,
Or build thy bower on Ætna's fiery tops,
Thy Nell would follow thee and keep with thee,
Thy Nell would feed with thee and sleep with thee.
Friar. O Cupido quantus, quantus!
Rice ap Mer . Bravely resolved, madam. — And then what rests my Lord Robin, but we will live and die together like Camber-Britons, — Robin Hood, Little John, Friar Tuck, and Maid Marian?
Lluellen . There rests nothing now, cousin, but that I sell my chain to set us all in green, and we'll all play the pioners to make us a cave and cabin for all weathers.
Elinor . My sweet Lluellen, though this sweet be gall, Patience doth conquer by out-suffering all.
Friar . Now, Mannock-deny,
I hold thee a penny,
Thou shalt have neither sheep nor goat
But Friar David will fleece his coat:
Wherever Jack, my novice, jet,
All is fish with him that comes to net;
David, this year thou pay'st no debt.
Mortimer [coming forward from his concealment ]. Why,
friar, is it so plain, indeed?
Lluellen, art thou flatly so resolv'd
To roist it out, and roost so near the king?
What, shall we have a passage kept in Wales
For men-at-arms and knights adventurous?
By cock, Sir Rice, I see no reason why
Young Mortimer should [not] make one among,
And play his part on Mannock-deny here,
For love of his beloved Elinor.
His Elinor! [his!] were she his, I wot,
The bitter northern wind upon the plains,
The damps that rise from out the queachy plots,
Nor influence of contagious air should touch;
But she should court it with the proudest dames,
Rich in attire, and sumptuous in her fare,
And take her ease in beds of softest down.
Why, Mortimer, may not thy offers move,
And win sweet Elinor from Lluellen's love?
Why, pleasant gold and gentle eloquence
Have 'ticed the chastest nymphs, the fairest dames,
And vaunts of words, delights of wealth and ease
Have made a nun to yield. Lluellen's [sun],
Being set to see the last of desperate chance,
Why should so fair a star stand in a vale,
And not be seen to sparkle in the sky?
It is enough Jove change his glittering robes
To see Mnemosyne and the flies.
Masters, have after gentle Robin Hood.
You're not so well accompanied, I hope,
But if a potter come to play his part,
You'll give him stripes or welcome, good or worse.
Go, Mortimer, and make there love-holidays:
The King will take a common 'scuse of thee,
And hath more men to attend than Mortimer.
Enter M ORTIMER , L LUELLEN , M EREDITH , [ and the Lady E LINOR ].
Mortimer . Farewell, Lluellen, with thy loving Nell.
Lluellen . God-a-mercy, Mortimer; and so farewell.
Rice ap Mer . Farewell and be hanged, false Sinon's serpent brood.
Lluellen . Good words, Sir Rice: wrongs have best remedy,
So taken with time, patience, and policy.
But where is the friar? who can tell?
Enter Friar.
Friar . That can I, master, very well;
And say, i'faith, what hath befel,
Must we at once to heaven or hell?
Elinor . To heaven, friar! friar, no, fie!
Such heavy souls mount not so high.
Friar [ lies down ]. Then, friar, lie thee down and die;
And if any ask the reason why,
Answer and say thou canst not tell,
Unless because thou must to hell.
Elinor. No, friar, because thou didst rebel:
Gentle Sir Rice, ring out thy knell.
Lluellen . And Maddock toll thy passing-bell.
So, there lies a straw,
And now to the law.
Masters and friends; naked came we into the world, naked are we turned out of the good towns into the wilderness. Let me see; mass, methinks we are a handsome commonwealth, a handful of good fellows, set a-sunning to dog on our own discretion. What say you, sir[s]? We are enough to keep a passage: will you be ruled by me? We'll get the next day from Brecknock the Book of Robin Hood; the friar he shall instruct us in this cause, and we'll even here fare and well: since the king hath put us amongst the discarding cards, and, as it were, turned us with deuces and treys out of the deck, every man take his standing on Mannock-deny, and wander like irregulars up and down the wilderness. I'll be Master of Misrule, I'll be Robin Hood, that's once: cousin Rice, thou shalt be Little John: and here's Friar David as fit as a die for Friar Tuck. Now, my sweet Nell, if you will make up the mess with a good heart for Maid Marian, and dwell with Lluellen under the green-wood trees, with as good a will as in the good towns, why, plena est curia .
Elinor . My sweetest love, and this my infract fortune
Could never vaunt her sovereignty,
And shouldst thou pass the ford of Phlegethon,
Or with Leander swim the Hellespont,
In deserts Æthiopian ever dwell,
Or build thy bower on Ætna's fiery tops,
Thy Nell would follow thee and keep with thee,
Thy Nell would feed with thee and sleep with thee.
Friar. O Cupido quantus, quantus!
Rice ap Mer . Bravely resolved, madam. — And then what rests my Lord Robin, but we will live and die together like Camber-Britons, — Robin Hood, Little John, Friar Tuck, and Maid Marian?
Lluellen . There rests nothing now, cousin, but that I sell my chain to set us all in green, and we'll all play the pioners to make us a cave and cabin for all weathers.
Elinor . My sweet Lluellen, though this sweet be gall, Patience doth conquer by out-suffering all.
Friar . Now, Mannock-deny,
I hold thee a penny,
Thou shalt have neither sheep nor goat
But Friar David will fleece his coat:
Wherever Jack, my novice, jet,
All is fish with him that comes to net;
David, this year thou pay'st no debt.
Mortimer [coming forward from his concealment ]. Why,
friar, is it so plain, indeed?
Lluellen, art thou flatly so resolv'd
To roist it out, and roost so near the king?
What, shall we have a passage kept in Wales
For men-at-arms and knights adventurous?
By cock, Sir Rice, I see no reason why
Young Mortimer should [not] make one among,
And play his part on Mannock-deny here,
For love of his beloved Elinor.
His Elinor! [his!] were she his, I wot,
The bitter northern wind upon the plains,
The damps that rise from out the queachy plots,
Nor influence of contagious air should touch;
But she should court it with the proudest dames,
Rich in attire, and sumptuous in her fare,
And take her ease in beds of softest down.
Why, Mortimer, may not thy offers move,
And win sweet Elinor from Lluellen's love?
Why, pleasant gold and gentle eloquence
Have 'ticed the chastest nymphs, the fairest dames,
And vaunts of words, delights of wealth and ease
Have made a nun to yield. Lluellen's [sun],
Being set to see the last of desperate chance,
Why should so fair a star stand in a vale,
And not be seen to sparkle in the sky?
It is enough Jove change his glittering robes
To see Mnemosyne and the flies.
Masters, have after gentle Robin Hood.
You're not so well accompanied, I hope,
But if a potter come to play his part,
You'll give him stripes or welcome, good or worse.
Go, Mortimer, and make there love-holidays:
The King will take a common 'scuse of thee,
And hath more men to attend than Mortimer.
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