_Slip._ Nay, sir, if you be in your deeds of charity, remember me. I
rubbed Master Ateukin's horse-heels when he rid to the meadows.

    _K. of Scots._ And thou shalt have thy recompense for that.--
    Lords, bear them to the prison, chain them fast,
    Until we take some order for their deaths.
    [Lords _seize them._

    _And._ If so your grace in such sort give rewards,
    Let me have naught; I am content to want.

_Slip._ Then, I pray, sir, give me all; I am as ready for a reward as
an oyster for a fresh tide; spare not me, sir.

_K. of Scots._ Then hang them both as traitors to the king.

_Slip._ The case is altered, sir: I'll none of your gifts. What, I take
a reward at your hands, master! faith, sir, no; I am a man of a better
conscience.

_K. of Scots._ Why dally you? Go draw them hence away.

_Slip._ Why, alas, sir, I will go away.--I thank you, gentle friends; I
pray you spare your pains: I will not trouble his honour's mastership;
I'll run away.

    _K. of Scots._ Why stay you? move me not. Let search be made
    For vile Ateukin: whoso finds him out
    Shall have five hundred marks for his reward.
    Away with them, lords!

 _Enter_ OBERON _and_ Antics, _and carry away_ SLIPPER; _he makes
 pots_[296] _and sports, and scorns._ ANDREW _is removed._

    Troops, about my tent!
    Let all our soldiers stand in battle 'ray;
    For, lo, the English to their parley come.

 _March over bravely, first the English host, the sword carried before
 the_ King _by_ PERCY; _the Scottish on the other side, with all their
 pomp, bravely._

What seeks the King of England in this land?

    _K. of Eng._ False, traitorous Scot, I come for to revenge
    My daughter's death; I come to spoil thy wealth,
    Since thou hast spoil'd me of my marriage joy;
    I come to heap thy land with carcases,
    That this thy thirsty soil, chok'd up with blood,
    May thunder forth revenge upon thy head;
    I come to quit thy loveless love with death:
    In brief, no means of peace shall e'er be found,
    Except I have my daughter or thy head.

    _K. of Scots._ My head, proud king! abase thy pranking plumes:
    So striving fondly, mayst thou catch thy grave.
    But, if true judgment do direct thy course,
    This lawful reason should divert the war:
    Faith, not by my consent thy daughter died.

    _K. of Eng._ Thou liest, false Scot! thy agents have confess'd it.
    These are but fond delays: thou canst not think
    A means to reconcile me for thy friend.
    I have thy parasite's confession penn'd;
    What, then, canst thou allege in thy excuse?

    _K. of Scots._ I will repay the ransom for her blood.

    _K. of Eng._ What, think'st thou, caitiff, I will sell my child?
    No; if thou be a prince and man-at-arms,
    In single combat come and try thy right,
    Else will I prove thee recreant to thy face.

    _K. of Scots._ I seek no combat, false injurious king.
    But, since thou needless art inclin'd to war,
    Do what thou dar'st; we are in open field:
    Arming my battle, I will fight with thee.

    _K. of Eng._ Agreed.--Now trumpets, sound a dreadful charge.
    Fight for your princess, brave Englishmen!

    _K. of Scots._ Now for your lands, your children, and your wives,
    My Scottish peers, and lastly for your king!

 _Alarum sounded; both the battles offer to meet, and just as the kings
 are joining battle, enter_ SIR CUTHBERT ANDERSON _and_ LADY ANDERSON;
 _with them enters_ QUEEN DOROTHEA, _richly attired, who stands
 concealed, and_ NANO.

    _Sir Cuth._ Stay, princes, wage not war: a privy grudge
    'Twixt such as you, most high in majesty,
    Afflicts both nocent and the innocent
    How many swords, dear princes, see I drawn!
    The friend against his friend, a deadly feud;
    A desperate division in those lands
    Which, if they join in one, command the world.
    O, stay! with reason mitigate your rage;
    And let an old man, humbled on his knees,
    Entreat a boon, good princes, of you both.

    _K. of Eng._ I condescend, for why thy reverend years
    Import some news of truth and consequence.

    _K. of Scots._ I am content, for, Anderson, I know
    Thou art my subject and dost mean me good.

    _Sir Cuth._ But by your gracious favours grant me this,
    To swear upon your swords to do me right.

    _K. of Eng._ See, by my sword, and by a prince's faith,
    In every lawful sort I am thine own.

    _K. of Scots._ And, by my sceptre and the Scottish crown,
    I am resolv'd to grant thee thy request.

    _Sir Cuth._ I see you trust me, princes, who repose
    The weight of such a war upon my will.
    Now mark my suit. A tender lion's whelp,
    This other day, came straggling in the woods,
    Attended by a young and tender hind,
    In courage haught, yet 'tirèd like a lamb.
    The prince of beasts had left this young in keep,
    To foster up as love-mate and compeer,
    Unto the lion's mate, a neighbour-friend:
    This stately guide, seducèd by the fox,
    Sent forth an eager wolf, bred up in France,
    That gripp'd the tender whelp and wounded it.
    By chance, as I was hunting in the woods,
    I heard the moan the hind made for the whelp:
    I took them both, and brought them to my house.
    With chary care I have recur'd the one;
    And since I know the lions are at strife
    About the loss and damage of the young,
    I bring her home; make claim to her who list.
    [_Discovers_ QUEEN DOROTHEA.

    _Q. Dor._ I am the whelp, bred by this lion up,
    This royal English king, my happy sire:
    Poor Nano is the hind that tended me.
    My father, Scottish king, gave me to thee,
    A hapless wife: thou, quite misled by youth,
    Hast sought sinister loves and foreign joys.
    The fox Ateukin, cursèd parasite,
    Incens'd your grace to send the wolf abroad,
    The French-born Jaques, for to end my days:
    He, traitorous man, pursu'd me in the woods,
    And left me wounded; where this noble knight
    Both rescu'd me and mine, and sav'd my life.
    Now keep thy promise: Dorothea lives;
    Give Anderson his due and just reward:
    And since, you kings, your wars began by me,
    Since I am safe, return, surcease your fight.

    _K. of Scots._ Durst I presume to look upon those eyes
    Which I have tirèd with a world of woes?
    Or did I think submission were enough,
    Or sighs might make an entrance to thy soul,
    You heavens, you know how willing I would weep;
    You heavens can tell how glad I would submit;
    You heavens can say how firmly I would sigh.

    _Q. Dor._ Shame me not, prince, companion in thy bed:
    Youth hath misled,--tut, but a little fault:
    'Tis kingly to amend what is amiss.
    Might I with twice as many pains as these
    Unite our hearts, then should my wedded lord
    See how incessant labours I would take.--
    My gracious father, govern your affects:
    Give me that hand, that oft hath blest this head,
    And clasp thine arms, that have embrac'd this [neck],
    About the shoulders of my wedded spouse.
    Ah, mighty prince, this king and I am one!
    Spoil thou his subjects, thou despoilest me;
    Touch thou his breast, thou dost attaint this heart:
    O, be my father, then, in loving him!

    _K. of Eng._ Thou provident kind mother of increase,
    Thou must prevail; ah, Nature, thou must rule!
    Hold, daughter, join my hand and his in one;
    I will embrace him for to favour thee:
    I call him friend, and take him for my son.

    _Q. Dor._ Ah, royal husband, see what God hath wrought!
    Thy foe is now thy friend.--Good men-at-arms,
    Do you the like.--These nations if they join,
    What monarch, with his liege-men, in this world,
    Dare but encounter you in open field?

    _K. of Scots._ All wisdom, join'd with godly piety!--
    Thou English king, pardon my former youth;
    And pardon, courteous queen, my great misdeed;
    And, for assurance of mine after-life,
    I take religious vows before my God,
    To honour thee for father, her for wife.

    _Sir Cuth._ But yet my boons, good princes, are not pass'd.
    First, English king, I humbly do request,
    That by your means our princess may unite
    Her love unto mine aldertruest love,[297]
    Now you will love, maintain, and help them both.

    _K. of Eng._ Good Anderson, I grant thee thy request.

    _Sir Cuth._ But you, my prince, must yield me mickle more.
    You know your nobles are your chiefest stays,
    And long time have been banish'd from your court:
    Embrace and reconcile them to yourself;
    They are your hands, whereby you ought to work.
    As for Ateukin and his lewd compeers,
    That sooth'd you in your sins and youthly pomp,
    Exile, torment, and punish such as they;
    For greater vipers never may be found
    Within a state than such aspiring heads,
    That reck not how they climb, so that they climb.

    _K. of Scots._ Guid knight, I grant thy suit.--First I submit,
    And humbly crave a pardon of your grace:--
    Next, courteous queen, I pray thee by thy loves
    Forgive mine errors past, and pardon me.--
    My lords and princes, if I have misdone
    (As I have wrong'd indeed both you and yours),
    Hereafter, trust me, you are dear to me.
    As for Ateukin, whoso finds the man,
    Let him have martial law, and straight be hang'd,
    As all his vain abettors now are dead.
    And Anderson our treasurer shall pay
    Three thousand marks for friendly recompense.

    _Nano._ But, princes, whilst you friend it thus in one,
    Methinks of friendship Nano shall have none.

    _Q. Dor._ What would my dwarf, that I will not bestow?

    _Nano._ My boon, fair queen, is this,--that you would go:
    Although my body is but small and neat,
    My stomach, after toil, requireth meat:
    An easy suit, dread princess; will you wend?

    _K. of Scots._ Art thou a pigmy-born, my pretty friend?

    _Nano._ Not so, great king, but Nature, when she fram'd me,
    Was scant of earth, and Nano therefore nam'd me;
    And, when she saw my body was so small,
    She gave me wit to make it big withal.

    _K. of Scots._ Till time when--

    _Q. Dor._ Eat, then.

    _K. of Scots._ My friend, it stands with wit
    To take repast when stomach serveth it.

    _Q. Dor._[298] Thy policy, my Nano, shall prevail.--
    Come, royal father, enter we my tent:--
    And, soldiers, feast it, frolic it, like friends:--
    My princes, bid this kind and courteous train
    Partake some favours of our late accord.
    Thus wars have end, and, after dreadful hate,
    Men learn at last to know their good estate.
    [_Exeunt omnes._

GEORGE-A-GREENE, THE PINNER OF WAKEFIELD

The first Quarto of _George-a-Greene_ was printed in 1599 by Simon
Stafford for Cuthbert Burby. It had been entered by Burby on the
Stationers' Registers four years earlier, 1st April 1595, as an
interlude. Henslowe's first notice of the play occurs for 29th December
1593, at which date it was performed by Sussex' men at the Rose, these
players possibly having secured the play from the Queen's players.
Henslowe records five performances between 29th December 1593 and 22nd
January 1594, sometimes under the major title, and sometimes under the
title _The Pinner of Wakefield_. The play was reprinted in Dodsley's
_Old Plays_ in 1744. Neither on the title-page, nor on the Stationers'
Registers, nor by Henslowe, is the name of the author mentioned. For
long it was supposed that the play was by John Heywood. It was finally
assigned to Greene through the discovery by Collier of a copy of the
Quarto of 1599 with the following notes on the title-page:--

 "Written by ... a minister who act[ed] th[e] pinners pt in it
 himselfe. Teste W. Shakespea[re].
 Ed. Juby saith that ye play was made by Ro. Gree[ne]."

These notes are in different hands, and as against the adverse
testimony of internal structure, their evidence in favour of Greene's
authorship is of slight weight. With the exception of the episode
of the King of Scotland and Jane a' Barley the play is founded on a
romance, _The Famous History of George-a-Greene_, etc., first printed
in 1706 by an editor, N. W., from a MS. now in Sion College. Whether
there was a printed Elizabethan version, or the author of the play used
the MS., it is now impossible to say. The romance is now reprinted in
Thoms' _Early English Prose Romances_, Vol. II. In the Bodleian Library
there is a black-letter romance of 1632, treating the same subject, but
its story is evidently not the basis of the play. The Quarto of the
play, which is owned by the Duke of Devonshire, is very poorly printed,
and many scenes have been curtailed.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

EDWARD, King of England.

JAMES, King of Scotland.

EARL OF KENDAL.

EARL OF WARWICK.

LORD BONFIELD.

LORD HUMES.

SIR GILBERT ARMSTRONG.

SIR NICHOLAS MANNERING.

GEORGE-A-GREENE.

MUSGROVE.

CUDDY, his son.

NED-A-BARLEY.

GRIME.

ROBIN HOOD.

MUCH, the Miller's son.

SCARLET.

JENKIN, George-a-Greene's man.

WILY, George-a-Greene's boy.

JOHN.

Justice.

Townsmen, Shoemakers, Soldiers, Messengers, etc.

JANE-A-BARLEY

BETTRIS, daughter to Grime.

MAID MARIAN.

_GEORGE-A-GREENE, THE PINNER[299] OF WAKEFIELD_

ACT THE FIRST

SCENE I.--_At Bradford._

 _Enter the_ EARL OF KENDAL; _with him_ LORD BONFIELD, SIR GILBERT
 ARMSTRONG, SIR NICHOLAS MANNERING, _and_ JOHN.

    _Ken._ Welcome to Bradford, martial gentlemen,
    Lord Bonfield, and Sir Gilbert Armstrong both;
    And all my troops, even to my basest groom,
    Courage and welcome! for the day is ours.
    Our cause is good, 'tis for the land's avail:
    Then let us fight, and die for England's good.

    _All._ We will, my lord.

    _Ken._ As I am Henry Momford, Kendal's earl,
    You honour me with this assent of yours;
    And here upon my sword I make protest
    For to relieve the poor or die myself.
    And know, my lords, that James, the King of Scots,
    Wars hard upon the borders of this land:
    Here is his post.--Say, John Taylor, what news with King James?

_John._ War, my lord, [I] tell, and good news, I trow; for King Jamy
vows to meet you the twenty-sixth of this month, God willing; marry,
doth he, sir.

    _Ken._ My friends, you see what we have to win.--
    Well, John, commend me to King James, and tell him,
    I will meet him the twenty-sixth of this month,
    And all the rest; and so, farewell. [_Exit_ JOHN.
    Bonfield, why stand'st thou as a man in dumps?
    Courage! for, if I win, I'll make thee duke:
    I, Henry Momford will be king myself;
    And I will make thee Duke of Lancaster,
    And Gilbert Armstrong Lord of Doncaster.

    _Bon._ Nothing, my lord, makes me amaz'd at all,
    But that our soldiers find our victuals scant.
    We must make havoc of those country-swains;
    For so will the rest tremble and be afraid,
    And humbly send provision to your camp.

    _Arm._ My Lord Bonfield gives good advice:
    They make a scorn, and stand upon the king;
    So what is brought is sent from them perforce;
    Ask Mannering else.

    _Ken._ What say'st thou, Mannering?

    _Man._ Whenas I show'd your high commission,
    They made this answer,
    Only to send provision for your horses.

    _Ken._ Well, hie thee to Wakefield, bid the town
    To send me all provision that I want,
    Lest I, like martial Tamburlaine, lay waste
    Their bordering countries, and leaving none alive
    That contradicts my commission.

    _Man._ Let me alone;
    My lord, I'll make them vail[300] their plumes;
    For whatsoe'er he be, the proudest knight,
    Justice, or other, that gainsay'th your word,
    I'll clap him fast, to make the rest to fear.

    _Ken._ Do so, Nick: hie thee thither presently,
    And let us hear of thee again to-morrow.

    _Man._ Will you not remove, my lord?

    _Ken._ No, I will lie at Bradford all this night
    And all the next.--Come, Bonfield, let us go,
    And listen out some bonny lasses here. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.--_At Wakefield._

 _Enter the_ Justice, Townsmen, GEORGE-A-GREENE, _and_ SIR NICHOLAS
 MANNERING _with his commission._

_Jus._ Master Mannering, stand aside, whilst we confer
    What is best to do.--Townsmen of Wakefield,
    The Earl of Kendal here hath sent for victuals;
    And in aiding him we show ourselves no less
    Than traitors to the king; therefore
    Let me hear, townsmen, what is your consents.

    _First Towns._ Even as you please, we are all content.

    _Jus._ Then, Master Mannering, we are resolv'd--

    _Man._ As how?

    _Jus._ Marry, sir, thus.
    We will send the Earl of Kendal no victuals,
    Because he is a traitor to the king;
    And in aiding him we show ourselves no less.

    _Man._ Why, men of Wakefield, are you waxen mad,
    That present danger cannot whet your wits,
    Wisely to make provision of yourselves?
    The earl is thirty thousand men strong in power,
    And what town soever him resist,
    He lays it flat and level with the ground.
    Ye silly men, you seek your own decay:
    Therefore send my lord such provision as he wants,
    So he will spare your town,
    And come no nearer Wakefield than he is.

    _Jus._ Master Mannering, you have your answer; you may be gone.

    _Man._ Well, Woodroffe, for so I guess is thy name,
    I'll make thee curse thy overthwart denial;
    And all that sit upon the bench this day shall rue
    The hour they have withstood my lord's commission.

    _Jus._ Do thy worst, we fear thee not.

    _Man._ See you these seals? before you pass the town,
    I will have all things my lord doth want,
    In spite of you.

    _Geo._ Proud dapper Jack, vail bonnet to the bench
    That represents the person of the king;
    Or, sirrah, I'll lay thy head before thy feet.

    _Man._ Why, who art thou?

    _Geo._ Why, I am George-a-Greene,
    True liege-man to my king,
    Who scorns that men of such esteem as these
    Should brook the braves of any traitorous squire.
    You of the bench, and you, my fellow-friends,
    Neighbours, we subjects all unto the king;
    We are English born, and therefore Edward's friends.
    Vow'd unto him even in our mothers' womb,
    Our minds to God, our hearts unto our king:
    Our wealth, our homage, and our carcases,
    Be all King Edward's. Then, sirrah, we
    Have nothing left for traitors, but our swords,
    Whetted to bathe them in your bloods, and die
    'Gainst you, before we send you any victuals.

    _Jus._ Well spoken, George-a-Greene!

    _First Towns._ Pray let George-a-Greene speak for us.

    _Geo._ Sirrah, you get no victuals here,
    Not if a hoof of beef would save your lives.

    _Man._ Fellow, I stand amaz'd at thy presumption.
    Why, what art thou that dar'st gainsay my lord,
    Knowing his mighty puissance and his stroke?
    Why, my friend, I come not barely of myself;
    For, see, I have a large commission.

    _Geo._ Let me see it, sirrah [_Takes the commission_].
    Whose seals be these?

    _Man._ This is the Earl of Kendal's seal-at-arms;
    This Lord Charnel Bonfield's;
    And this Sir Gilbert Armstrong's.

    _Geo._ I tell thee, sirrah, did good King Edward's son
    Seal a commission 'gainst the king his father,
    Thus would I tear it in despite of him,
    [_Tears the commission._
    Being traitor to my sovereign.

    _Man._ What, hast thou torn my lord's commission?
    Thou shalt rue it, and so shall all Wakefield.

    _Geo._ What, are you in choler? I will give you pills
    To cool your stomach. Seest thou these seals?
    Now, by my father's soul,
    Which was a yeoman when he was alive,
    Eat them, or eat my dagger's point, proud squire.

    _Man._ But thou dost but jest, I hope.

    _Geo._ Sure that shall you see before we two part.

    _Man._ Well, an there be no remedy, so, George:
    [_Swallows one of the seals._
    One is gone; I pray thee, no more now.

    _Geo._ O, sir, if one be good, the others cannot hurt.
    [MANNERING _swallows the other two seals._
    So, sir; now you may go tell the Earl of Kendal,
    Although I have rent his large commission,
    Yet of courtesy I have sent all his seals
    Back again by you.

    _Man._ Well, sir, I will do your errand. [_Exit._

    _Geo._ Now let him tell his lord that he hath spoke
    With George-a-Greene,
    Hight Pinner of merry Wakefield town,
    That hath physic for a fool,
    Pills for a traitor that doth wrong his sovereign.
    Are you content with this that I have done?

    _Jus._ Ay, content, George;
    For highly hast thou honour'd Wakefield town
    In cutting off proud Mannering so short.
    Come, thou shalt be my welcome guest to-day;
    For well thou hast deserv'd reward and favour.
    [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.--_In Westmoreland._

 _Enter_ MUSGROVE _and_ CUDDY.

    _Cud._ Now, gentle father, list unto thy son,
    And for my mother's love,
    That erst was blithe and bonny in thine eye,
    Grant one petition that I shall demand.

    _Mus._ What is that, my Cuddy?

    _Cud._ Father, you know the ancient enmity of late
    Between the Musgroves and the wily Scots,
    Whereof they have oath
    Not to leave one alive that strides a lance.
    O father, you are old, and, waning, age unto the grave:
    Old William Musgrove, which whilom was thought
    The bravest horseman in all Westmoreland,
    Is weak, and forc'd to stay his arm upon a staff,
    That erst could wield a lance.
    Then, gentle father, resign the hold to me;
    Give arms to youth, and honour unto age.

    _Mus._ Avaunt, false-hearted boy! my joints do quake
    Even with anguish of thy very words.
    Hath William Musgrove seen an hundred years?
    Have I been fear'd and dreaded of the Scots,
    That, when they heard my name in any road,[301]
    They fled away, and posted thence amain,
    And shall I die with shame now in mine age?
    No, Cuddy, no: thus resolve I,
    Here have I liv'd, and here will Musgrove die.
    [_Exeunt._

SCENE IV.--_At Bradford._

 _Enter_ LORD BONFIELD, SIR GILBERT ARMSTRONG, GRIME, _and_ BETTRIS.

    _Bon._ Now, gentle Grime, God-a-mercy for our good cheer;
    Our fare was royal, and our welcome great:
    And sith so kindly thou hast entertain'd us,
    If we return with happy victory,
    We will deal as friendly with thee in recompense.

    _Grime._ Your welcome was but duty, gentle lord;
    For wherefore have we given us our wealth,
    But to make our betters welcome when they come?
    [_Aside_]. O, this goes hard when traitors must be flatter'd!
    But life is sweet, and I cannot withstand it:
    God, I hope, will revenge the quarrel of my king.

    _Arm._ What said you, Grime?

    _Grime._ I say, Sir Gilbert, looking on my daughter,
    I curse the hour that e'er I got the girl;
    For, sir, she may have many wealthy suitors,
    And yet she disdains them all,
    To have poor George-a-Greene unto her husband.

    _Bon._ On that, good Grime, I am talking with thy daughter;
    But she, in quirks and quiddities of love,
    Sets me to school, she is so over-wise.--
    But, gentle girl, if thou wilt forsake the Pinner
    And be my love, I will advance thee high;
    To dignify those hairs of amber hue,
    I'll grace them with a chaplet made of pearl,
    Set with choice rubies, sparks, and diamonds,
    Planted upon a velvet hood, to hide that head
    Wherein two sapphires burn like sparkling fire:
    This will I do, fair Bettris, and far more,
    If thou wilt love the Lord of Doncaster.

    _Bet._ Heigh-ho! my heart is in a higher place,
    Perhaps on the earl, if that be he.
    See where he comes, or angry, or in love,
    For why his colour looketh discontent.

     _Enter the_ EARL OF KENDAL _and_ SIR NICHOLAS MANNERING.

    _Ken._ Come, Nick, follow me.

    _Bon._ How now, my lord! what news?

    _Ken._ Such news, Bonfield, as will make thee laugh,
    And fret thy fill, to hear how Nick was us'd.
    Why, the Justices stand on their terms:
    Nick, as you know, is haughty in his words;
    He laid the law unto the Justices
    With threatening braves, that one look'd on another,
    Ready to stoop; but that a churl came in,
    One George-a-Greene, the Pinner of the town,
    And with his dagger drawn laid hands on Nick,
    And by no beggars swore that we were traitors,
    Rent our commission, and upon a brave
    Made Nick to eat the seals or brook the stab:
    Poor Mannering, afraid, came posting hither straight.

    _Bet._ O lovely George, fortune be still thy friend!
    And as thy thoughts be high, so be thy mind
    In all accords, even to thy heart's desire!

    _Bon._ What says fair Bettris?

    _Grime._ My lord, she is praying for George-a-Greene:
    He is the man, and she will none but him.

    _Bon._ But him! why, look on me, my girl:
    Thou know'st, that yesternight I courted thee,
    And swore at my return to wed with thee.
    Then tell me, love, shall I have all thy fair?

    _Bet._ I care not for earl, nor yet for knight,
    Nor baron that is so bold;
    For George-a-Greene, the merry Pinner,
    He hath my heart in hold.[302]

    _Bon._ Bootless, my lord, are many vain replies:
    Let us hie us to Wakefield, and send her the Pinner's head.

    _Ken._ It shall be so.--Grime, gramercy,
    Shut up thy daughter, bridle her affects;[303]
    Let me not miss her when I make return;
    Therefore look to her, as to thy life, good Grime.

    _Grime._ I warrant you, my lord.

    _Ken._ And, Bettris,
    Leave a base Pinner, for to love an earl.
    [_Exeunt_ GRIME _and_ BETTRIS.
    Fain would I see this Pinner George-a-Greene.
    It shall be thus:
    Nick Mannering shall lead on the battle,
    And we three will go to Wakefield in some disguise:
    But howsoever, I'll have his head to-day. [_Exeunt._

ACT THE SECOND

SCENE I.--_Before_ SIR JOHN-A-BARLEY'S _Castle_.

 _Enter_ JAMES, KING OF SCOTS, LORD HUMES, _with_ Soldiers, _and_ JOHN.

    _K. James._ Why, Johnny, then the Earl of Kendal is blithe,
    And hath brave men that troop along with him?

    _John._ Ay, marry, my liege,
    And hath good men that come along with him,
    And vows to meet you at Scrasblesea, God willing.

    _K. James._ If good Saint Andrew lend King Jamy leave,
    I will be with him at the 'pointed day.

     _Enter_ NED.

    But, soft!--Whose pretty boy art thou?

    _Ned._ Sir, I am son unto Sir John-a-Barley,
    Eldest, and all that e'er my mother had;
    Edward my name.

    _K. James._ And whither art thou going, pretty Ned?

    _Ned._ To seek some birds, and kill them, if I can:
    And now my schoolmaster is also gone,
    So have I liberty to ply my bow;
    For when he comes, I stir not from my book.

    _K. James._ Lord Humes, but mark the visage of this child:
    By him I guess the beauty of his mother;
    None but Leda could breed Helena.--
    Tell me, Ned, who is within with thy mother?

    _Ned._ Naught but herself and household servants, sir:
    If you would speak with her, knock at this gate.

    _K. James._ Johnny, knock at that gate.
    [JOHN _knocks at the gate._

     _Enter_ JANE-A-BARLEY _upon the walls._

    _Jane._ O, I'm betray'd! What multitudes be these?

    _K. James._ Fear not, fair Jane, for all these men are mine,
    And all thy friends, if thou be friend to me:
    I am thy lover, James the King of Scots,
    That oft have su'd and woo'd with many letters,
    Painting my outward passions with my pen,
    Whenas my inward soul did bleed for woe.
    Little regard was given to my suit;
    But haply thy husband's presence wrought it:
    Therefore, sweet Jane, I fitted me to time,
    And, hearing that thy husband was from home,
    Am come to crave what long I have desir'd.

    _Ned._ Nay, soft you, sir! you get no entrance here,
    That seek to wrong Sir John-a-Barley so,
    And offer such dishonour to my mother.

    _K. James._ Why, what dishonour, Ned?

    _Ned._ Though young,
    Yet often have I heard my father say,
    No greater wrong than to be made cuckold.
    Were I of age, or were my body strong,
    Were he ten kings, I would shoot him to the heart
    That should attempt to give Sir John the horn.--
    Mother, let him not come in:
    I will go lie at Jocky Miller's house.

    _K. James._ Stay him.

    _Jane._ Ay, well said; Ned, thou hast given the king his answer;
    For were the ghost of Cæsar on the earth,
    Wrapp'd in the wonted glory of his honour,
    He should not make me wrong my husband so.
    But good King James is pleasant, as I guess,
    And means to try what humour I am in;
    Else would he never have brought an host of men,
    To have them witness of his Scottish lust.

    _K. James._ Jane, in faith, Jane,--

    _Jane._ Never reply,
    For I protest by the highest holy God,
    That doometh just revenge for things amiss,
    King James, of all men, shall not have my love.

    _K. James._ Then list to me: Saint Andrew be my boot,
    But I'll raze thy castle to the very ground,
    Unless thou open the gate, and let me in.

    _Jane._ I fear thee not, King Jamy: do thy worst.
    This castle is too strong for thee to scale;
    Besides, to-morrow will Sir John come home.

    _K. James._ Well, Jane, since thou disdain'st King James's love,
    I'll draw thee on with sharp and deep extremes;
    For, by my father's soul, this brat of thine
    Shall perish here before thine eyes,
    Unless thou open the gate, and let me in.

    _Jane._ O deep extremes! my heart begins to break:
    My little Ned looks pale for fear.--
    Cheer thee, my boy, I will do much for thee.

    _Ned._ But not so much as to dishonour me.

    _Jane._ An if thou diest, I cannot live, sweet Ned.

    _Ned._ Then die with honour, mother, dying chaste.

    _Jane._ I am armed:
    My husband's love, his honour, and his fame,
    Join[304] victory by virtue. Now, King James,
    If mother's tears cannot allay thine ire,
    Then butcher him, for I will never yield:
    The son shall die before I wrong the father.

    _K. James._ Why, then, he dies.

     _Alarum within. Enter a_ Messenger.

    _Mess._ My lord, Musgrove is at hand.

    _K. James._ Who, Musgrove? The devil he is! Come, my horse!
    [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.--_The Same._

 _Enter_ MUSGROVE _with_ KING JAMES _prisoner_; JANE-A-BARLEY _on the
 walls._

    _Mus._ Now, King James, thou art my prisoner.

    _K. James._ Not thine, but fortune's prisoner.

     _Enter_ CUDDY.

    _Cud._ Father, the field is ours: their colours we have seiz'd,
    And Humes is slain; I slew him hand to hand.

    _Mus._ God and Saint George!

    _Cud._ O father, I am sore athirst!

    _Jane._ Come in, young Cuddy, come and drink thy fill:
    Bring in King Jamy with you as a guest;
    For all this broil was 'cause he could not enter.
    [_Exit above.--Exeunt below, the others._

SCENE III.--_At Wakefield._

 _Enter_ GEORGE-A-GREENE.

    _Geo._ The sweet content of men that live in love
    Breeds fretting humours in a restless mind;
    And fancy, being check'd by fortune's spite,
    Grows too impatient in her sweet desires;
    Sweet to those men whom love leads on to bliss,
    But sour to me whose hap is still amiss.

     _Enter_ JENKIN.

    _Jen._ Marry, amen, sir.

    _Geo._ Sir, what do you cry "amen" at?

    _Jen._ Why, did not you talk of love?

    _Geo._ How do you know that?

_Jen._ Well, though I say it that should not say it, there are few
fellows in our parish so nettled with love as I have been of late.

_Geo._ Sirrah, I thought no less, when the other morning you rose so
early to go to your wenches. Sir, I had thought you had gone about my
honest business.

_Jen._ Trow, you have hit it; for, master, be it known to you, there is
some good-will betwixt Madge the souce-wife[305] and I; marry, she hath
another lover.

_Geo._ Can'st thou brook any rivals in thy love?

_Jen._ A rider! no, he is a sow-gelder and goes afoot. But Madge
'pointed to meet me in your wheat-close.

_Geo._ Well, did she meet you there?

_Jen._ Never make question of that. And first I saluted her with a
green gown, and after fell as hard a-wooing as if the priest had been
at our backs to have married us.

_Geo._ What, did she grant?

_Jen._ Did she grant! never make question of that. And she gave me a
shirt-collar wrought over with no counterfeit stuff.

_Geo._ What, was it gold?

_Jen._ Nay, 'twas better than gold.

_Geo._ What was it?

_Jen._ Right Coventry blue. We had no sooner come there but wot you who
came by?

_Geo._ No: who?

_Jen._ Clim the sow-gelder.

_Geo._ Came he by?

_Jen._ He spied Madge and I sit together: he leapt from his horse,
laid his hand on his dagger, and began to swear. Now I seeing he had a
dagger, and I nothing but this twig in my hand, I gave him fair words
and said nothing. He comes to me, and takes me by the bosom. "You
whoreson slave," said he, "hold my horse, and look he take no cold in
his feet." "No, marry, shall he, sir," quoth I; "I'll lay my cloak
underneath him." I took my cloak, spread it all along, and his horse on
the midst of it.

_Geo._ Thou clown, didst thou set his horse upon thy cloak?

_Jen._ Ay, but mark how I served him. Madge and he was no sooner gone
down into the ditch, but I plucked out my knife, cut four holes in my
cloak, and made his horse stand on the bare ground.

_Geo._ 'Twas well done. Now, sir, go and survey my fields: if you find
any cattle in the corn, to pound with them.

_Jen._ And if I find any in the pound, I shall turn them out. [_Exit._

 _Enter the_ EARL OF KENDAL, LORD BONFIELD, SIR GILBERT ARMSTRONG, _all
 disguised, with a train of men._

    _Ken._ Now we have put the horses in the corn,
    Let us stand in some corner for to hear
    What braving terms the Pinner will breathe
    When he spies our horses in the corn.
    [_Retires with the others._

 _Re-enter_ JENKIN _blowing his horn._

_Jen._ O master, where are you? we have a prize.

_Geo._ A prize! what is it?

_Jen._ Three goodly horses in our wheat-close.

_Geo._ Three horses in our wheat-close! whose be they?

_Jen._ Marry, that's a riddle to me; but they are there; velvet[306]
horses, and I never saw such horses before. As my duty was, I put off
my cap, and said as followeth: "My masters, what do you make in our
close?" One of them, hearing me ask what he made there, held up his
head and neighed, and after his manner laughed as heartily as if a mare
had been tied to his girdle. "My masters," said I, "it is no laughing
matter; for, if my master take you here, you go as round as a top to
the pound." Another untoward jade, hearing me threaten him to the
pound and to tell you of them, cast up both his heels, and let such a
monstrous great fart, that was as much as in his language to say, "A
fart for the pound, and a fart for George-a-Greene!" Now I, hearing
this, put on my cap, blew my horn, called them all jades, and came to
tell you.

_Geo._ Now, sir, go and drive me those three horses to the pound.

_Jen._ Do you hear? I were best to take a constable with me.

_Geo._ Why so?

_Jen._ Why, they, being gentlemen's horses, may stand on their
reputation, and will not obey me.

_Geo._ Go, do as I bid you, sir.

_Jen._ Well, I may go.

 _The_ EARL OF KENDAL, LORD BONFIELD, _and_ SIR GILBERT ARMSTRONG _come
 forward._

_Ken._ Whither away, sir?

_Jen._ Whither away! I am going to put the horses in the pound.

_Ken._ Sirrah, those three horses belong to us,
And we put them in,
And they must tarry there and eat their fill.

_Jen._ Stay, I will go tell my master.--Hear you, master? we have
another prize: those three horses be in your wheat-close still, and
here be three geldings more.

_Geo._ What be these?

_Jen._ These are the masters of the horses.

    _Geo._ Now, gentlemen (I know not your degrees,
    But more you cannot be, unless you be kings,)
    Why wrong you us of Wakefield with your horses?
    I am the Pinner, and, before you pass,
    You shall make good the trespass they have done.

_Ken._ Peace, saucy mate, prate not to us:
I tell thee, Pinner, we are gentlemen.

_Geo._ Why, sir, so may I, sir, although I give no arms.

_Ken._ Thou! how art thou a gentleman?

_Jen._ And such is my master, and he may give as good arms as ever your
great-grandfather could give.

_Ken._ Pray thee, let me hear how.

_Jen._ Marry, my master may give for his arms the picture of April in a
green jerkin, with a rook on one fist and an horn on the other: but my
master gives his arms the wrong way, for he gives the horn on his fist;
and your grandfather, because he would not lose his arms, wears the
horn on his own head.

    _Ken._ Well, Pinner, sith our horses be in,
    In spite of thee they now shall feed their fill,
    And eat until our leisures serve to go.

    _Geo._ Now, by my father's soul,
    Were good King Edward's horses in the corn,
    They shall amend the scath, or kiss the pound;
    Much more yours, sir, whatsoe'er you be.

    _Ken._ Why, man, thou knowest not us:
    We do belong to Henry Momford, Earl of Kendal;
    Men that, before a month be full expir'd,
    Will be King Edward's betters in the land.

    _Geo._ King Edward's betters! Rebel, thou liest!
    [_Strikes him._

    _Bon._ Villain, what hast thou done? thou hast struck an earl.

    _Geo._ Why, what care I? a poor man that is true,
    Is better than an earl, if he be false.
    Traitors reap no better favours at my hands.

    _Ken._ Ay, so methinks; but thou shalt dear aby[307] this blow.--
    Now or never lay hold on the Pinner!

     _All the train comes forward._

    _Geo._ Stay, my lords, let us parley on these broils:
    Not Hercules against two, the proverb is,
    Nor I against so great a multitude.--
    [_Aside_]. Had not your troops come marching as they did,
    I would have stopt your passage unto London:
    But now I'll fly to secret policy.

    _Ken._ What dost thou murmur, George?

    _Geo._ Marry, this, my lord; I muse,
    If thou be Henry Momford, Kendal's earl,
    That thou wilt do poor George-a-Greene this wrong,
    Ever to match me with a troop of men.

    _Ken_ Why dost thou strike me, then?

    _Geo._ Why, my lord, measure me but by yourself:
    Had you a man had serv'd you long,
    And heard your foe misuse you behind your back,
    And would not draw his sword in your defence,
    You would cashier him.
    Much more, King Edward is my king:
    And before I'll hear him so wrong'd,
    I'll die within this place,
    And maintain good whatsoever I have said.
    And, if I speak not reason in this case,
    What I have said I'll maintain in this place.

    _Bon._ A pardon, my lord, for this Pinner;
    For, trust me, he speaketh like a man of worth.

    _Ken._ Well, George, wilt thou leave Wakefield and wend with me,
    I'll freely put up all and pardon thee.

    _Geo._ Ay, my lord, considering me one thing,
    You will leave these arms, and follow your good king.

    _Ken._ Why, George, I rise not against King Edward,
    But for the poor that is oppress'd by wrong;
    And, if King Edward will redress the same,
    I will not offer him disparagement,
    But otherwise; and so let this suffice.
    Thou hear'st the reason why I rise in arms:
    Now, wilt thou leave Wakefield and wend with me,
    I'll make thee captain of a hardy band,
    And, when I have my will, dub thee a knight.

    _Geo._ Why, my lord, have you any hope to win?

    _Ken._ Why, there is a prophecy doth say,
    That King James and I shall meet at London,
    And make the king vail bonnet to us both.

    _Geo._ If this were true, my lord, this were a mighty reason.

    _Ken._ Why, it is a miraculous prophecy, and cannot fail.

    _Geo._ Well, my lord, you have almost turned me.--
    Jenkin, come hither.

    _Jen._ Sir?

    _Geo._ Go your ways home, sir,
    And drive me those three horses home unto my house,
    And pour them down a bushel of good oats.

    _Jen._ Well, I will.--[_Aside_]. Must I give these scurvy horses oats?
    [_Exit._

    _Geo._ Will it please you to command your train aside?

    _Ken._ Stand aside. [_The train retires._

    _Geo._ Now list to me:
    Here in a wood, not far from hence,
    There dwells an old man in a cave alone,
    That can foretell what fortunes shall befall you,
    For he is greatly skilful in magic art.
    Go you three to him early in the morning,
    And question him: if he says good,
    Why, then, my lord, I am the foremost man
    Who will march up with your camp to London.

_Ken._ George, thou honourest me in this. But where shall we find him out?

    _Geo._ My man shall conduct you to the place;
    But, good my lord, tell me true what the wise man saith.

    _Ken._ That will I, as I am Earl of Kendal.

    _Geo._ Why, then, to honour George-a-Greene the more,
    Vouchsafe a piece of beef at my poor house;
    You shall have wafer-cakes your fill,
    A piece of beef hung up since Martlemas:
    If that like you not, take what you bring, for me.

    _Ken._ Gramercies, George. [_Exeunt._

ACT THE THIRD

SCENE I.--_Before_ GRIME'S _house in Bradford._

 _Enter_ GEORGE-A-GREENE'S _boy_ WILY, _disguised as a woman._

    _Wily._ O, what is love! it is some mighty power,
    Else could it never conquer George-a-Greene.
    Here dwells a churl that keeps away his love:
    I know the worst, an if I be espied,
    'Tis but a beating; and if I by this means
    Can get fair Bettris forth her father's door,
    It is enough.
    Venus, for me, of all the gods alone,
    Be aiding to my wily enterprise! [_Knocks at the door._

     _Enter_ GRIME _as from the house._

    _Grime._ How now! who knocks there? what would you have?
    From whence came you? where do you dwell?

    _Wily._ I am, forsooth, a sempster's maid hard by,
    That hath brought work home to your daughter.

    _Grime._ Nay, are you not
    Some crafty quean that comes from George-a-Greene,
    That rascal, with some letters to my daughter?
    I will have you search'd.

    _Wily._ Alas, sir, it is Hebrew unto me,
    To tell me of George-a-Greene or any other!
    Search me, good sir, and if you find a letter
    About me, let me have the punishment that's due.

    _Grime._ Why are you muffled? I like you the worse for that.

    _Wily._ I am not, sir, asham'd to show my face;
    Yet loth I am my cheeks should take the air:
    Not that I'm chary of my beauty's hue,
    But that I'm troubled with the toothache sore.
    [_Unmuffles._

    _Grime._ [_aside_]. A pretty wench, of smiling countenance!
    Old men can like, although they cannot love;
    Ay, and love, though not so brief as young men can.--
    Well, go in, my wench, and speak with my daughter.
    [_Exit_ WILY _into the house._
    I wonder much at the Earl of Kendal,
    Being a mighty man, as still he is,
    Yet for to be a traitor to his king,
    Is more than God or man will well allow.
    But what a fool am I to talk of him!
    My mind is more here of the pretty lass.
    Had she brought some forty pounds to town,
    I could be content to make her my wife:
    Yet I have heard it in a proverb said,
    He that is old and marries with a lass,
    Lies but at home, and proves himself an ass.

     _Enter, from the house_, BETTRIS _in_ WILY'S _apparel._

    How now, my wench! how is't? what, not a word?--
    Alas, poor soul, the toothache plagues her sore.--
    Well, my wench,
    Here is an angel for to buy thee pins, [_Gives money._
    And I pray thee use mine house;
    The oftener, the more welcome: farewell. [_Exit._

    _Bet._ O blessèd love, and blessèd fortune both!
    But, Bettris, stand not here to talk of love,
    But hie thee straight unto thy George-a-Greene:
    Never went roebuck swifter on the downs
    Than I will trip it till I see my George. [_Exit._

SCENE II.--_A Wood near Wakefield._

 _Enter the_ EARL OF KENDAL, LORD BONFIELD, SIR GILBERT ARMSTRONG,
 _and_ JENKIN.

_Ken._ Come away, Jenkin.

_Jen._ Come, here is his house. [_Knocks at the door._]--Where be you,
ho?

_Geo._ [_within_]. Who knocks there?

_Ken._ Here are two or three poor men, father, would speak with you.

_Geo._ [_within_]. Pray, give your man leave to lead me forth.

_Ken._ Go, Jenkin, fetch him forth. [JENKIN _leads forth_
GEORGE-A-GREENE _disguised_.

_Jen._ Come, old man.

    _Ken._ Father, here are three poor men come to question thee
    A word in secret that concerns their lives.

    _Geo._ Say on, my sons.

    _Ken._ Father, I am sure you hear the news, how that
    The Earl of Kendal wars against the king.
    Now, father, we three are gentlemen by birth,
    But younger brethren that want revenues,
    And for the hope we have to be preferr'd,
    If that we knew that we shall win,
    We will march with him: if not,
    We will not march a foot to London more.
    Therefore, good father, tell us what shall happen,
    Whether the king or the Earl of Kendal shall win.

    _Geo._ The king, my son.

    _Ken._ Art thou sure of that?

    _Geo._ Ay, as sure as thou art Henry Momford,
    The one Lord Bonfield, the other Sir Gilbert [Armstrong].

    _Ken._ Why, this is wondrous, being blind of sight,
    His deep perceiverance should be such to know us.

    _Arm._ Magic is mighty and foretelleth great matters.--
    Indeed, father, here is the earl come to see thee,
    And therefore, good father, fable not with him.

    _Geo._ Welcome is the earl to my poor cell,
    And so are you, my lords; but let me counsel you
    To leave these wars against your king, and live in quiet.

    _Ken._ Father, we come not for advice in war,
    But to know whether we shall win or leese.[308]

    _Geo._ Lose, gentle lords, but not by good King Edward;
    A baser man shall give you all the foil.

    _Ken._ Ay, marry, father, what man is that?

    _Geo._ Poor George-a-Greene, the Pinner.

    _Ken._ What shall he?

    _Geo._ Pull all your plumes, and sore dishonour you.

    _Ken._ He! as how?

    _Geo._ Nay, the end tries all; but so it will fall out.

    _Ken._ But so it shall not, by my honour Christ.
    I'll raise my camp, and fire Wakefield town,
    And take that servile Pinner George-a-Greene,
    And butcher him before King Edward's face.

    _Geo._ Good my lord, be not offended,
    For I speak no more than art reveals to me:
    And for greater proof,
    Give your man leave to fetch me my staff.

    _Ken._ Jenkin, fetch him his walking-staff.

    _Jen._ [_giving it_]. Here is your walking-staff.

    _Geo._ I'll prove it good upon your carcases;
    A wiser wizard never met you yet,
    Nor one that better could foredoom your fall.
    Now I have singled you here alone,
    I care not though you be three to one.

    _Ken._ Villain, hast thou betray'd us?

    _Geo._ Momford, thou liest, ne'er was I traitor yet;
    Only devis'd this guile to draw you on
    For to be combatants.
    Now conquer me, and then march on to London:
    It shall go hard but I will hold you task.

    _Arm._ Come, my lord, cheerly, I'll kill him hand to hand.

    _Ken._ A thousand pound to him that strikes that stroke!

    _Geo._ Then give it me, for I will have the first.
    [_Here they fight_; GEORGE _kills_ SIR GILBERT ARMSTRONG, _and
    takes the other two prisoners._

    _Bon._ Stay, George, we do appeal.

    _Geo._ To whom?

    _Bon._ Why, to the king:
    For rather had we bide what he appoints,
    Then here be murder'd by a servile groom.

    _Ken._ What wilt thou do with us?

    _Geo._ Even as Lord Bonfield wish'd,
    You shall unto the king: and, for that purpose,
    See where the Justice is plac'd.

     _Enter_ Justice.

    _Jus._ Now, my Lord of Kendal, where be all your threats?
    Even as the cause, so is the combat fallen,
    Else one could never have conquer'd three.

    _Ken._ I pray thee, Woodroffe, do not twit me;
    If I have faulted, I must make amends.

    _Geo._ Master Woodroffe, here is not a place for many words:
    I beseech ye, sir, discharge all his soldiers,
    That every man may go home unto his own house.

    _Jus._ It shall be so. What wilt thou do, George?

    _Geo._ Master Woodroffe, look to your charge;
    Leave me to myself.

    _Jus._ Come, my lords.
    [_Exeunt all except_ GEORGE.

SCENE III.--_A Wood near Wakefield._

 GEORGE-A-GREENE _discovered._[309]

    _Geo._ Here sit thou, George, wearing a willow wreath,
    As one despairing of thy beauteous love:
    Fie, George! no more;
    Pine not away for that which cannot be.
    I cannot joy in any earthly bliss,
    So long as I do want my Bettris.

     _Enter_ JENKIN.

    _Jen._ Who see a master of mine?

    _Geo._ How now, sirrah! whither away?

    _Jen,_ Whither away! why, who do you take me to be?

    _Geo._ Why, Jenkin, my man.

    _Jen._ I was so once indeed, but now the case is altered.

    _Geo._ I pray thee, as how?

    _Jen._ Were not you a fortune-teller to-day?

    _Geo._ Well, what of that?

_Jen._ So sure am I become a juggler. What will you say if I juggle
your sweetheart?

    _Geo._ Peace, prating losel! her jealous father
    Doth wait o'er her with such suspicious eyes,
    That, if a man but dally by her feet,
    He thinks it straight a witch to charm his daughter.

    _Jen._ Well, what will you give me, if I bring her hither?

    _Geo._ A suit of green, and twenty crowns besides.

    _Jen._ Well, by your leave, give me room. You must give me something
    that you have lately worn.

    _Geo._ Here is a gown, will that serve you?
    [_Gives gown._

_Jen._ Ay, this will serve me. Keep out of my circle, lest you be
torn in pieces by she-devils.--Mistress Bettris, once, twice, thrice!
[JENKIN _throws the gown in, and_ BETTRIS _comes out._[310]
O, is this no cunning?

_Geo._ Is this my love, or is it but her shadow?

_Jen._ Ay, this is the shadow, but here is the substance.

_Geo._ Tell me, sweet love, what good fortune brought thee hither?
For one it was that favour'd George-a-Greene.

    _Bet._ Both love and fortune brought me to my George,
    In whose sweet sight is all my heart's content.

    _Geo._ Tell me, sweet love, how cam'st thou from thy father's?

    _Bet._ A willing mind hath many slips in love:
    It was not I, but Wily, thy sweet boy.

    _Geo._ And where is Wily now?

    _Bet._ In my apparel, in my chamber still.

    _Geo._ Jenkin, come hither: go to Bradford,
    And listen out your fellow Wily.--
    Come, Bettris, let us in,
    And in my cottage we will sit and talk.
    [_Exeunt._

ACT THE FOURTH

SCENE I.--_Camp of_ KING EDWARD.

 _Enter_ KING EDWARD, JAMES, KING OF SCOTS, LORD WARWICK, CUDDY, _and_
 Train.

    _K. Edw._ Brother of Scotland, I do hold it hard,
    Seeing a league of truce was late confirm'd
    'Twixt you and me, without displeasure offer'd
    You should make such invasion in my land.
    The vows of kings should be as oracles,
    Not blemish'd with the stain of any breach;
    Chiefly where fealty and homage willeth it.

    _K. James._ Brother of England, rub not the sore afresh;
    My conscience grieves me for my deep misdeed.
    I have the worst; of thirty thousand men,
    There 'scap'd not full five thousand from the field.

    _K. Edw._ Gramercy, Musgrove, else it had gone hard:
    Cuddy, I'll quite thee well ere we two part.

    _K. James._ But had not his old father, William Musgrove,
    Play'd twice the man, I had not now been here.
    A stronger man I seldom felt before;
    But one of more resolute valiance,
    Treads not, I think, upon the English ground.

    _K. Edw._ I wot well, Musgrove shall not lose his hire.

    _Cud,_ An it please your grace, my father was
    Five-score and three at midsummer last past:
    Yet had King Jamy been as good as George-a-Greene,
    Yet Billy Musgrove would have fought with him.

    _K. Edw._ As George-a-Greene!
    I pray thee, Cuddy, let me question thee.
    Much have I heard, since I came to my crown,
    Many in manner of a proverb say,
    "Were he as good as George-a-Greene, I would strike him sure:"
    I pray thee, tell me, Cuddy, canst thou inform me,
    What is that George-a-Greene?

    _Cud._ Know, my lord, I never saw the man,
    But mickle talk is of him in the country:
    They say he is the Pinner of Wakefield town:
    But for his other qualities, I let alone.

    _War._ May it please your grace, I know the man too well.

    _K. Edw._ Too well! why so, Warwick?

    _War._ For once he swing'd me till my bones did ache.

    _K. Edw._ Why, dares he strike an earl?

    _War._ An earl, my lord! nay, he will strike a king,
    Be it not King Edward. For stature he is fram'd
    Like to the picture of stout Hercules,
    And for his carriage passeth Robin Hood.
    The boldest earl or baron of your land,
    That offereth scath unto the town of Wakefield,
    George will arrest his pledge unto the pound;
    And whoso resisteth bears away the blows,
    For he himself is good enough for three.

    _K. Edw._ Why, this is wondrous: my Lord of Warwick,
    Sore do I long to see this George-a-Greene.
    But leaving him, what shall we do, my lord,
    For to subdue the rebels in the north?
    They are now marching up to Doncaster.--

     _Enter one with the_ EARL OF KENDAL _prisoner._

    Soft! who have we there?

    _Cud._ Here is a traitor, the Earl of Kendal.

    _K. Edw._ Aspiring traitor! how darest thou
    Once cast thine eyes upon thy sovereign
    That honour'd thee with kindness, and with favour?
    But I will make thee buy this treason dear.

    _Ken._ Good my lord,--

    _K. Edw._ Reply not, traitor.--
    Tell me, Cuddy, whose deed of honour
    Won the victory against this rebel?

    _Cud._ George-a-Greene, the Pinner of Wakefield.

    _K. Edw._ George-a-Greene! now shall I hear news
    Certain, what this Pinner is.
    Discourse it briefly, Cuddy, how it befell.

    _Cud._ Kendal and Bonfield, with Sir Gilbert Armstrong,
    Came to Wakefield town disguis'd,
    And there spoke ill of your grace;
    Which George but hearing, fell'd them at his feet,
    And, had not rescue come into the place,
    George had slain them in his close of wheat.

    _K. Edw._ But, Cuddy,
    Canst thou not tell where I might give and grant
    Something that might please
    And highly gratify the Pinner's thoughts?

    _Cud._ This at their parting George did say to me:
    "If the king vouchsafe of this my service,
    Then, gentle Cuddy, kneel upon thy knee,
    And humbly crave a boon of him for me."

    _K. Edw._ Cuddy, what is it?

    _Cud._ It is his will your grace would pardon them,
    And let them live, although they have offended.

    _K. Edw._ I think the man striveth to be glorious.
    Well, George hath crav'd it, and it shall be granted,
    Which none but he in England should have gotten.--
    Live, Kendal, but as prisoner,
    So shalt thou end thy days within the Tower.

    _Ken._ Gracious is Edward to offending subjects.

    _K. James._ My Lord of Kendal, you're welcome to the court.

    _K. Edw._ Nay, but ill-come as it falls out now;
    Ay, ill-come indeed, were't not for George-a-Greene.
    But, gentle king, for so you would aver,
    And Edward's betters, I salute you both,
    And here I vow by good Saint George,
    You'll gain but little when your sums are counted.
    I sore do long to see this George-a-Greene:
    And for because I never saw the north,
    I will forthwith go see it;
    And for that to none I will be known, we will
    Disguise ourselves and steal down secretly,
    Thou and I, King James, Cuddy, and two or three,
    And make a merry journey for a month.--
    Away, then, conduct him to the Tower.--
    Come on, King James, my heart must needs be merry,
    If fortune makes such havoc of our foes. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.--ROBIN HOOD'S _Retreat._

 _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD, MAID MARIAN, SCARLET, _and_ MUCH.

    _Rob._ Why is not lovely Marian blithe of cheer?
    What ails my leman,[311] that she gins to lour?
    Say, good Marian, why art thou so sad?

    _Mar._ Nothing, my Robin, grieves me to the heart
    But, whensoever I do walk abroad,
    I hear no songs but all of George-a-Greene;
    Bettris, his fair leman, passeth me:
    And this, my Robin, galls my very soul.

    _Rob._ Content: what recks it us though George-a-Greene be stout,
    So long as he doth proffer us no scath?
    Envy doth seldom hurt but to itself;
    And therefore, Marian, smile upon thy Robin.

    _Mar._ Never will Marian smile upon her Robin,
    Nor lie with him under the greenwood shade,
    Till that thou go to Wakefield on a green,
    And beat the Pinner for the love of me.

    _Rob._ Content thee, Marian, I will ease thy grief,
    My merry men and I will thither stray;
    And here I vow that, for the love of thee,
    I will beat George-a-Greene, or he shall beat me.

    _Scar._ As I am Scarlet, next to Little John,
    One of the boldest yeomen of the crew,
    So will I wend with Robin all along,
    And try this Pinner what he dares do.

    _Much._ As I am Much, the miller's son,
    That left my mill to go with thee,
    And nill repent that I have done,
    This pleasant life contenteth me;
    In aught I may, to do thee good,
    I'll live and die with Robin Hood.

    _Mar._ And, Robin, Marian she will go with thee,
    To see fair Bettris how bright she is of blee.[312]

    _Rob._ Marian, thou shalt go with thy Robin.--
    Bend up your bows, and see your strings be tight,
    The arrows keen, and everything be ready,
    And each of you a good bat on his neck,
    Able to lay a good man on the ground.

    _Scar._ I will have Friar Tuck's.

    _Much._ I will have Little John's.

    _Rob._ I will have one made of an ashen plank,
    Able to bear a bout or two.--
    Then come on, Marian, let us go;
    For before the sun doth show the morning day,
    I will be at Wakefield to see this Pinner, George-a-Greene.
    [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.--_At Bradford._

 _A_ Shoemaker _discovered at work: enter_ JENKIN, _carrying a
 staff._[313]

_Jen._ My masters, he that hath neither meat nor money, and hath lost
his credit with the alewife, for anything I know, may go supperless to
bed.--But, soft! who is here? here is a shoemaker; he knows where is
the best ale.--Shoemaker, I pray thee tell me, where is the best ale in
the town?

_Shoe._ Afore, afore, follow thy nose; at the sign of the Egg-shell.

_Jen._ Come, shoemaker, if thou wilt, and take thy part of a pot.

_Shoe._ [_coming forward_]. Sirrah, down with your staff, down with
your staff.

_Jen._ Why, how now! is the fellow mad? I pray thee tell me, why should
I hold down my staff?

_Shoe._ You will down with him, will you not, sir?

_Jen._ Why, tell me wherefore?

_Shoe._ My friend, this is the town of merry Bradford, and here is a
custom held, that none shall pass with his staff on his shoulders but
he must have a bout with me; and so shall you, sir.

_Jen._ And so will I not, sir.

_Shoe._ That will I try. Barking dogs bite not the sorest.

_Jen._ [_aside_]. I would to God I were once well rid of him.

_Shoe._ Now, what, will you down with your staff?

_Jen._ Why, you are not in earnest? are you?

_Shoe._ If I am not, take that. [_Strikes him._

_Jen._ You whoreson, cowardly scab, it is but the part of a
clapperdudgeon[314] to strike a man in the street. But darest thou walk
to the town's end with me?

_Shoe._ Ay, that I dare do; but stay till I lay in my tools, and I will
go with thee to the town's end presently.

_Jen._ [_aside_]. I would I knew how to be rid of this fellow.

_Shoe._ Come, sir, will you go to the town's end now, sir?

_Jen._ Ay, sir, come.--

 [_Scene changes to the town's end_].

Now we are at the town's end, what say you now?

_Shoe._ Marry, come, let us even have a bout.

_Jen._ Ha, stay a little; hold thy hands, I pray thee.

_Shoe._ Why, what's the matter?

_Jen._ Faith, I am Under-pinner of a town, and there is an order, which
if I do not keep, I shall be turned out of mine office.

_Shoe._ What is that, sir?

_Jen._ Whensoever I go to fight with anybody, I use to flourish my
staff thrice about my head before I strike, and then show no favour.

_Shoe._ Well, sir, and till then I will not strike thee.

_Jen._ Well, sir, here is once, twice:--here is my hand, I will never
do it the third time.

_Shoe._ Why, then, I see we shall not fight.

_Jen._ Faith, no: come, I will give thee two pots of the best ale, and
be friends.

_Shoe._ [_aside_]. Faith, I see it is as hard to get water out of a
flint as to get him to have a bout with me: therefore I will enter into
him for some good cheer.--My friend, I see thou art a faint-hearted
fellow, thou hast no stomach to fight, therefore let us go to the
ale-house and drink.

_Jen._ Well, content: go thy ways, and say thy prayers, thou 'scapest
my hands to-day. [_Exeunt._

SCENE IV.--_At Wakefield._

 _Enter_ GEORGE-A-GREENE _and_ BETTRIS.

    _Geo._ Tell me, sweet love, how is thy mind content?
    What, canst thou brook to live with George-a-Greene?

    _Bet._ O, George, how little pleasing are these words!
    Came I from Bradford for the love of thee,
    And left my father for so sweet a friend?
    Here will I live until my life do end.

    _Geo._ Happy am I to have so sweet a love.--
    But what are these come tracing here along?

    _Bet._ Three men come striking through the corn, my love.

     _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD, MAID MARIAN, SCARLET _and_ MUCH.

    _Geo._ Back again, you foolish travellers,
    For you are wrong, and may not wend this way.

    _Rob._ That were great shame. Now, by my soul, proud sir,
    We be three tall[315] yeomen, and thou art but one.--
    Come, we will forward in despite of him.

    _Geo._ Leap the ditch, or I will make you skip.
    What, cannot the highway serve your turn,
    But you must make a path over the corn?

    _Rob._ Why, art thou mad? dar'st thou encounter three?
    We are no babes, man, look upon our limbs.

    _Geo._ Sirrah, the biggest limbs have not the stoutest hearts.
    Were ye as good as Robin Hood and his three merry men,
    I'll drive you back the same way that ye came.
    Be ye men, ye scorn to encounter me all at once;
    But be ye cowards, set upon me all three,
    And try the Pinner what he dares perform.

    _Scar._ Were thou as high in deeds
    As thou art haughty in words,
    Thou well might'st be a champion for the king:
    But empty vessels have the loudest sounds,
    And cowards prattle more than men of worth.

    _Geo._ Sirrah, darest thou try me?

    _Scar._ Ay, sirrah, that I dare.
    [_They fight, and_ GEORGE-A-GREENE _beats him._

    _Much._ How now! what, art thou down?--
    Come, sir, I am next.
    [_They fight, and_ GEORGE-A-GREENE _beats him._

    _Rob._ Come, sirrah, now to me: spare me not,
    For I'll not spare thee.

    _Ge._ Make no doubt I will be as liberal to thee.
    [_They fight_; ROBIN HOOD _stays._

    _Rob._ Stay, George, for here I do protest,
    Thou art the stoutest champion that ever I
    Laid hands upon.

    _Geo._ Soft, you sir! by your leave, you lie;
    You never yet laid hands on me.

    _Rob._ George, wilt thou forsake Wakefield,
    And go with me?
    Two liveries will I give thee every year,
    And forty crowns shall be thy fee.[316]

    _Geo._ Why, who art thou?

    _Rob._ Why, Robin Hood:
    I am come hither with my Marian
    And these my yeomen for to visit thee.

    _Geo._ Robin Hood!
    Next to King Edward art thou lief[317] to me.
    Welcome, sweet Robin; welcome, Maid Marian;
    And welcome, you my friends. Will you to my poor house?
    You shall have wafer-cakes your fill,
    A piece of beef hung up since Martlemas,
    Mutton and veal: if this like you not,
    Take that you find, or that you bring, for me.

    _Rob._ Godamercies, good George,
    I'll be thy guest to-day.

    _Geo._ Robin, therein thou honourest me.
    I'll lead the way. [_Exeunt._

ACT THE FIFTH

SCENE I.--_At Bradford._

 _Enter_ KING EDWARD _and_ KING JAMES _disguised; each carrying a
 staff._

    _K. Edw._ Come on, King James; now we are thus disguis'd,
    There's none, I know, will take us to be kings:
    I think we are now in Bradford,
    Where all the merry shoemakers dwell.

     _Enter several_ Shoemakers.

    _First Shoe._ Down with your staves, my friends,
    Down with them.

    _K. Edw._ Down with our staves! I pray thee, why so?

    _First Shoe._ My friend, I see thou art a stranger here,
    Else wouldst thou not have question'd of the thing.
    This is the town of merry Bradford,
    And here hath been a custom kept of old,
    That none may bear his staff upon his neck,
    But trail it all along throughout the town,
    Unless they mean to have a bout with me.

    _K. Edw._ But hear you, sir, hath the king granted you this custom?

    _First Shoe._ King or kaisar, none shall pass this way,
    Except King Edward;
    No, not the stoutest groom that haunts his court;
    Therefore down with your staves.

    _K. Edw._ What were we best to do?

    _K. James._ Faith, my lord, they are stout fellows;
    And, because we will see some sport,
    We will trail our staves.

    _K. Edw._ Hear'st thou, my friend?
    Because we are men of peace and travellers,
    We are content to trail our staves.

    _First Shoe._ The way lies before you, go along.

     _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ GEORGE-A-GREENE, _disguised._

    _Rob._ See, George, two men are passing through the town,
    Two lusty men, and yet they trail their staves.

    _Geo._ Robin, they are some peasants trick'd in yeoman's weeds.--
    Hollo, you two travellers!

    _K. Edw._ Call you us, sir?

    _Geo._ Ay, you. Are ye not big enough to bear
    Your bats upon your necks, but you must trail them
    Along the streets?

    _K. Edw._ Yes, sir, we are big enough; but here is a custom kept,
    That none may pass, his staff upon his neck,
    Unless he trail it at the weapon's point.
    Sir, we are men of peace, and love to sleep
    In our whole skins, and therefore quietness is best.

    _Geo._ Base-minded peasants, worthless to be men!
    What, have you bones and limbs to strike a blow,
    And be your hearts so faint you cannot fight?
    Were't not for shame, I would drub your shoulders well,
    And teach you manhood 'gainst another time.

    _First Shoe._ Well preach'd, Sir Jack! down with your staff!

    _K. Edw._ Do you hear, my friends? an you be wise, keep down
    Your staves, for all the town will rise upon you.

    _Geo._ Thou speakest like an honest, quiet fellow:
    But hear you me; in spite of all the swains
    Of Bradford town, bear me your staves upon your necks,
    Or, to begin withal, I'll baste you both so well,
    You were never better basted in your lives.

    _K. Edw._ We will hold up our staves.
[GEORGE-A-GREENE _fights with the_ Shoemakers, _and beats them all down._

    _Geo._ What, have you any more?
    Call all your town forth, cut and longtail.[318]
    [_The_ Shoemakers _recognise_ GEORGE-A-GREENE.

    _First Shoe._ What, George a-Greene, is it you? A plague found[319] you!
    I think you long'd to swinge me well.
    Come, George, we will crush a pot before we part.

    _Geo._ A pot, you slave! we will have an hundred.--
    Here, Will Perkins, take my purse; fetch me
    A stand of ale, and set in the market-place,
    That all may drink that are athirst this day;
    For this is for a fee to welcome Robin Hood
    To Bradford town.
    [_The stand of ale is brought out, and they fall a-drinking._
    Here, Robin, sit thou here;
    For thou art the best man at the board this day.
    You that are strangers, place yourselves where you will.
    Robin, here's a carouse to good King Edward's self;
    And they that love him not, I would we had
    The basting of them a little.

 _Enter the_ EARL OF WARWICK _with other_ Noblemen, _bringing out the_
 King's _garments; then_ GEORGE-A-GREENE _and the rest kneel down to
 the_ King.

    _K. Edw._ Come, masters, ale--fellows.--Nay, Robin,
    You are the best man at the board to-day.--
    Rise up, George.

    _Geo._ Nay, good my liege, ill-nurtur'd we were, then:
    Though we Yorkshire men be blunt of speech,
    And little skill'd in court or such quaint fashions,
    Yet nature teacheth us duty to our king;
    Therefore I humbly beseech you pardon George-a-Greene.

    _Rob._ And, good my lord, a pardon for poor Robin;
    And for us all a pardon, good King Edward.

    _First Shoe._ I pray you, a pardon for the shoemakers.

    _K. Edw._ I frankly grant a pardon to you all:
    [_They rise._
    And, George-a-Greene, give me thy hand;
    There's none in England that shall do thee wrong.
    Even from my court I came to see thyself;
    And now I see that fame speaks naught but truth.

    _Geo._ I humbly thank your royal majesty.
    That which I did against the Earl of Kendal,
    'Twas but a subject's duty to his sovereign,
    And therefore little merits such good words.

    _K. Edw._ But ere I go, I'll grace thee with good deeds.
    Say what King Edward may perform,
    And thou shalt have it, being in England's bounds.

    _Geo._ I have a lovely leman,
    As bright of blee as is the silver moon,
    And old Grime her father will not let her match
    With me, because I am a Pinner,
    Although I love her, and she me, dearly.

    _K. Edw._ Where is she?

    _Geo._ At home at my poor house,
    And vows never to marry unless her father
    Give consent; which is my great grief, my lord.

    _K. Edw._ If this be all, I will despatch it straight;
    I'll send for Grime and force him give his grant:
    He will not deny King Edward such a suit.

 _Enter_ JENKIN.

_Jen._ Ho, who saw a master of mine? O, he is gotten into company, an a
body should rake hell for company.

_Geo._ Peace, ye slave! see where King Edward is.

_K. Edw._ George, what is he?

_Geo._ I beseech your grace pardon him; he is my man.

_First Shoe._ Sirrah, the king hath been drinking with us, and did
pledge us too.

_Jen._ Hath he so? kneel; I dub you gentlemen.

_First Shoe._ Beg it of the king, Jenkin.

_Jen._ I will.--I beseech your worship grant me one thing.

_K. Edw._ What is that?

_Jen._ Hark in your ear. [_Whispers_ K. EDW. _in the ear._

_K. Edw._ Go your ways, and do it.

_Jen._ Come, down on your knees, I have got it.

_First Shoe._ Let us hear what it is first.

_Jen._ Marry, because you have drunk with the king, and the king hath
so graciously pledged you, you shall be no more called Shoemakers; but
you and yours, to the world's end, shall be called the trade of the
Gentle Craft.

_First Shoe._ I beseech your majesty reform this which he hath spoken.

_Jen._ I beseech your worship consume this which he hath spoken.

    _K. Edw._ Confirm it, you would say.--
    Well, he hath done it for you, it is sufficient.--
    Come, George, we will go to Grime, and have thy love.

_Jen._ I am sure your worship will abide; for yonder is coming old
Musgrove and mad Cuddy his son.--Master, my fellow Wily comes dressed
like a woman, and Master Grime will marry Wily. Here they come.

 _Enter_ MUSGROVE _and_ CUDDY; GRIME, WILY _disguised as a woman,_ MAID
 MARIAN, _and_ BETTRIS.

    _K. Edw._ Which is thy old father, Cuddy?

    _Cud._ This, if it please your majesty.
    [MUSGROVE _kneels._

    _K. Edw._ Ah, old Musgrove, stand up;
    It fits not such grey hairs to kneel.

    _Mus._ [_rising_]. Long live my sovereign!
    Long and happy be his days!
    Vouchsafe, my gracious lord, a simple gift
    At Billy Musgrove's hand.
    King James at Middleham Castle gave me this;
    This won the honour, and this give I thee.
    [_Gives sword to_ K. EDW.

    _K. Edw._ Godamercy, Musgrove, for this friendly gift;
    And, for thou fell'dst a king with this same weapon,
    This blade shall here dub valiant Musgrove knight.

    _Mus._ Alas, what hath your highness done? I am poor.

    _K. Edw._ To mend thy living take thou Middleham Castle,
    And hold of me. And if thou want living, complain;
    Thou shalt have more to maintain thine estate.--
    George, which is thy love?

    _Geo._ This, if please your majesty.

    _K. Edw._ Art thou her aged father?

    _Grime._ I am, an it like your majesty.

    _K. Edw._ And wilt not give thy daughter unto George?

    _Grime._ Yes, my lord, if he will let me marry with this lovely lass.

    _K. Edw._ What say'st thou, George?

    _Geo._ With all my heart, my lord, I give consent.

    _Grime._ Then do I give my daughter unto George.

    _Wily._ Then shall the marriage soon be at an end.
    Witness, my lord, if that I be a woman;
    [_Throws off his disguise._
    For I am Wily, boy to George-a-Greene,
    Who for my master wrought this subtle shift.

    _K. Edw._ What, is it a boy?--what say'st thou to this, Grime?

    _Grime._ Marry, my lord, I think this boy hath
    More knavery than all the world besides.
    Yet am I content that George shall both have
    My daughter and my lands.

    _K. Edw._ Now, George, it rests I gratify thy worth:
    And therefore here I do bequeath to thee,
    In full possession, half that Kendal hath;
    And what as Bradford holds of me in chief,
    I give it frankly unto thee for ever.
    Kneel down, George.

    _Geo._ What will your majesty do?

    _K. Edw._ Dub thee a knight, George.

    _Geo._ I beseech your grace, grant me one thing.

    _K. Edw._ What is that?

    _Geo._ Then let me live and die a yeoman still:
    So was my father, so must live his son.
    For 'tis more credit to men of base degree,
    To do great deeds, than men of dignity.

    _K. Edw._ Well, be it so, George.

    _K. James._ I beseech your grace despatch with me,
    And set down my ransom.

    _K. Edw._ George-a-Greene,
    Set down the King of Scots his ransom.

    _Geo._ I beseech your grace pardon me;
    It passeth my skill.

    _K. Edw._ Do it, the honour's thine.

    _Geo._ Then let King James make good
    Those towns which he hath burnt upon the borders;
    Give a small pension to the fatherless,
    Whose fathers he caus'd murder'd in those wars;
    Put in pledge for these things to your grace,
    And so return.

    _K. Edw._ King James, are you content?

    _K. James._ I am content, an like your majesty,
    And will leave good castles in security.

    _K. Edw._ I crave no more.--Now, George-a-Greene,
    I'll to thy house; and when I have supt, I'll go
    To ask and see if Jane-a-Barley be so fair
    As good King James reports her for to be.
    And for the ancient custom of _Vail staff_,
    Keep it still, claim privilege from me:
    If any ask a reason why, or how,
    Say, English Edward vail'd his staff to you.
    [_Exeunt omnes._

APPENDIX

THE JOLLY PINDER OF WAKEFIELD WITH ROBIN HOOD, SCARLET AND JOHN.

    In Wakefield there lives a jolly pindèr,
        in Wakefield all on a green,
        in Wakefield all on a green;

    There is neither knight nor squire, said the pindèr,
        nor baron that is so bold,
        nor baron that is so bold;

    Dare make a trespàss to the town of Wakefield,
        but his pledge goes to the pinfold, &c.

    All this be heard three witty young men,
        'twas Robin Hood, Scarlet and John, &c.

    With that they espy'd the jolly pindèr,
        as he sat under a thorn, &c.

    Now turn again, turn again, said the pindèr,
        for a wrong way you have gone, &c.

    For you have forsaken the king's high-way,
        and made a path over the corn, &c.

    O that were great shame, said jolly Robin,
        we being three, and thou but one, &c.

    The pinder leapt back then thirty good foot,
        'twas thirty good foot and one, &c.

    He leaned his back fast unto a thorn,
        and his foot against a stone, &c.

    And there they fought a long summer's day,
        a summer's day so long, &c.

    Till that their swords on their broad bucklèrs,
        were broke fast into their hands, &c.

    Hold thy hand, hold thy hand, said bold Robin Hood,
        and my merry men everyone, &c.

    For this is one of the best pindèrs,
        that ever I tryed with sword, &c.

    And wilt thou forsake thy pinder's craft,
        and live in the green-wood with me? &c.

    At Michaelmas next my cov'nant comes out,
        when every man gathers his fee, &c.

    I'll take my blew blade all in my hand
        And plod to the green-wood with thee, &c.

    Hast thou either meat or drink? said Robin Hood,
        for my merry men and me, &c.

    I have both bread and beef, said the pindèr,
        and good ale of the best, &c.

    And that is meat good enough, said Robin Hood,
        for such unbidden guest, &c.

    O wilt thou forsake the pinder his craft,
        and go to the green-wood with me? &c.

    Thou shalt have a livery twice in the year,
        the one green, the other brown, &c.

    If Michaelmas day was come and gone,
        and my master had paid me my fee,
        and my master had paid me my fee,

    Then would I set as little by him,
        as my master doth by me,
        as my master doth by me.

NOTES

[1] In his _Elizabethan Drama_, ii. 376.

[2] As does Ingram in his _Christopher Marlowe and his Associates._

[3] Nash repeatedly bears witness to Greene's popularity. "In a night
and a day would he have yarkt up a pamphlet as well as in seven year,
and glad was that printer that might be so blest to pay him dear for
the very dregs of his wit" (_Strange News_). Harvey condemns him for
"putting forth new, newer, and newest books of the maker" (_Four
Letters_). Greene remained popular long after his death. In Sir Thomas
Overbury's "Character" of _A Chambermaid_, he tells us "She reads
Greene's works over and over"; and Anthony Wood informs us that since
Greene's time his works "have been mostly sold on ballad-mongers'
stalls." In the introduction to Rowland's _'Tis Merrie when Gossips
meete_ (1602), (_Hunterian Club Publications_, vol. i.) there is a
dialogue indicating that Greene's works are still in demand. Ben Jonson
in _Every Man out of his Humour_ (1599) alludes to Greene's works,
whence one "may steal with more security," referring undoubtedly, as
does Rowland, to the great mass of Greene's published work.

[4] Upon which Nash comments: "Let other men (as they please) praise
the mountain that in seven years brings forth a mouse, or the
Italianate pen, that of a packet of pilfries, affordeth the press
a pamphlet or two in an age, and then in dignified array, vaunts
Ovid's and Plutarch's plumes as their own; but give me the man,
whose extemporal vein in any humour, will excel our greatest art
master's deliberate thoughts; whose invention quicker than his eye,
will challenge the proudest rhetorician, to the contention of like
perfection, with like expedition."--(Prefatory Address to Greene's
_Menaphon_.)

[5] "But I thank God that he put it in my head, to lay open the
most horrible cosenages of the common Conny-catchers, Coseners, and
Cross-biters, which I have indifferently handled in those my several
discourses already imprinted. And my trust is that these discourses
will do great good, and be very beneficial to the commonwealth of
England."--_The Repentance of Robert Greene._

[6] It is regretfully that one recognises that Collins does not belong
at the head of this list. The surprising defects of the long-awaited
definitive edition of Greene must now speak for themselves; its
manifest excellences are well able to do so.

[7] Writing in _Notes and Queries_, 1905.

[8] _Menaphon_ was probably written a year or so earlier, but Nash's
address was probably dated from the year of publication.

[9] If we are to believe that _Edward III._ is Marlowe's play the
reference of this passage to Marlowe is made certain, for Greene
ridicules the words 'Ave Cæsar' that occur in the play. The only other
play in which the words are known to occur is _Orlando Furioso_ by
Greene himself. It would be too much to say that their use there is in
ridicule of Marlowe, though even that is possible.

[10] It may be, though it is not certain, that Greene was attacking
Marlowe in the epistle prefixed to his _Farewell to Folly_ (1591), in
which he tells the gentleman students that his _Mourning Garment_ had
been so popular that the pedlar found the books "too dear for his pack,
that he was fain to bargain for the life of Tomliuclin to wrap up his
sweet powders in those unsavoury papers." If "Tomliuclin" is a misprint
for Tamburlaine this is Greene's most direct and spiteful attack on
Marlowe.

[11] Gayley, _Representative English Comedies_, p. 410.

[12] _Orlando Furioso_, ii. 76-79; _Old Wives' Tale_, ii. 808-811.

[13] See Storojenko, Huth Library, vol. I., p. 235, and Gayley,
_Representative English Comedies_, p. 412.

[14] Greene's satirical use in _Never too Late_ of the words "Ave
Cæsar," which occur in _Edward III._, Act i. Sc. I, and his connecting
of them with a cobbler, seem to constitute Fleay's case. The matter has
already been mentioned in connection with Greene's jealousy of Marlowe.
The latest editor of _Edward III._, C. F. Tucker Brooke, in _The
Shakespeare Apocrypha_, ignores the supposition that the play may be
by Marlowe and dismisses the theory that it was by two hands. He puts
forward the claims of Peele, not, however, with great weight.

[15] And for another expression of the same idea see _Friar Bacon and
Friar Bungay,_ p. 264.

[16] The refrain, "O, what is love! it is some mighty power," occurs
with almost a lyric note in _George-a-Greene._

[17] _The Old Dramatists--Greene and Peele_, p. 603.

[18] For comment on this _see_ p. lviii.

[19] Though we accept the theory of the early composition of _A
Looking-Glass_ we fail to follow the arguments of Fleay and Gayley,
derived from the introduction of _Perimedes_ (licensed 29th March
1588), that in "the mad priest of the sun," mentioned in connection
with Atheist Tamburlaine, Greene can have any reference to the priests
of Rasni in Act iv. Scene 3. Certainly Greene could not have held up
such tame heroics for comparison with Marlowe's vigorous declamation.
Careful scrutiny fails to show that Greene was mentioning a work of his
own. The mad priests of the sun would seem rather to be other products
of the pen of Marlowe, or to be the work of some other dramatist,
possibly Kyd, whom, with Marlowe, Greene was attacking. (_See_ Koeppel
in Herrig's _Archiv_, 102, p. 357.)

[20] Particularly the parts of Adam, Smith, and Alcon. It is hard to
suppose that Spenser in his line, "pleasing Alcon," in the _Tears of
the Muses_ (1591), could have been referring to Lodge.

[21] As to date of the play we can say only that if Greene's it must
be the last one of his extant workmanship. It would not be safe to
draw conclusions from the mention of _George-a-Greene_ in Tarlton's
_News out of Purgatory_, as Tarlton was probably alluding to the source
of the narrative used by Greene. Nor does the mention of "martial
Tamburlaine" in the first scene help further than to indicate that the
play was written after 1587.

[22] This name was, however, quite common in this sense, Peele himself
using it in his _Farewell_ and in _Polyhymnia_.

[23] The reference is to the edition in _The Shakespeare Apocrypha_.

[24] Compare this with a line in _James IV._ (Act ii. Sc. I). "Better,
than live unchaste, to lie in grave."

[25] _See_ Gayley, _Representative English Comedies_, p. 422. Opinion
to-day seems strongly to favour the theory that it was Nash to whom
Greene referred in the famous passage in _A Groatsworth of Wit_, and
not Lodge. Considerations of age, of personal association, of the
comparative gifts of satire of Nash and Lodge strengthen this view.
Nash helped Marlowe in the composition of a tragedy; why not Greene in
the composition of a comedy?

[26] disdain: often used.

[27] Such repetition is common, see pp. 37, 188, 190.

[28] Use.

[29] Often used for "where," as "whenas" is used for "when."

[30] Boast.

[31] A false quantity.

[32] Another false quantity.

[33] Attained the position of.

[34] Simple, rude.

[35] Lest; often so used.

[36] Here and on p. 59 used in the sense of "neglect" or "refrain from."

[37] Care.

[38] It should be remembered that the scene divisions are not made by
Greene.

[39] In Elizabethan writers this term is used in both genders to
express general relationship. Here it means cousin.

[40] Strive, contend.

[41] Upbraid.

[42] Same as "vile."

[43] Resent.

[44] In the use of the descending throne, trap-door, property tomb,
balcony and curtain, as well as in plastic use of scenes (pp. 42 and
248) Greene illustrates the best practice of his time.

[45] Advise.

[46] Here clearly a change of scene is supposed. Between the two scenes
the Quarto has only this stage direction to Fausta: "Make as though you
were a-going out, _Medea_ meet her and say." As some time is supposed
to elapse between the two scenes they are here differentiated. Such is
not the case in _George-a-Greene_ (p. 439) in which the action goes
right on in two settings.

[47] Prepared.

[48] Among Elizabethan playwrights the use of the names of English
institutions, prisons, cathedrals and inns, in foreign scene-settings,
is quite common.

[49] Evidently a reminiscence of I Kings xviii. 27.

[50] Sex.

[51] A false quantity.

[52] Dyce's query "loadstar" is adopted instead of "load-stone" of the
quarto.

[53] Over-scrupulous.

[54] Exult, strut.

[55] From this line we are made to conclude that Greene intended to
write a second part of _Alphonsus of Arragon._

[56] Lover.

[57] Beat back.

[58] Degree.

[59] Beauty.

[60] Because.

[61] Dyce's suggestion is accepted instead of "either" of the quartos.

[62] Pearls.

[63] Foolish.

[64] In rearranging a corrupt text Dyce made "Clown" and "Adam" two
distinct persons. It is clear from the first sentence in Act iv., Scene
4, that they are identical. Clown's first three speeches are given in
the first four quartos to Smith, meaning Adam, the Smith's man. It
should be noticed that First Ruffian calls Adam "smith," and "this
paltry smith."

[65] The same pun occurs in _Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay_, Act IV.,
Scene I.

[66] Requite.

[67] Farcy.

[68] The Quartos designate the two latter as "_A young Gentleman and a
poor Man_."

[69] Merchandise which the borrower took in lieu of part of the sum to
be secured from the usurer.

[70] Counterpart, duplicate.

[71] Until.

[72] Grave, sober.

[73] Remilia and Alvida are assuming parts.

[74] A proverbial expression. Compare Shakespeare's Richard III., Act
III. sc. 7: "Play the maid's part,--still answer nay, and take it."

[75] Through a trap in the stage.

[76] Destroyed.

[77] A form of endearment, equivalent to "pet."

[78] The Quarto reads, "Mark but the Prophets, we that shortly shows,"
etc. J. C. Smith suggests "Prophet's woe"; J. C. Collins, "Prophet,
he," etc.

[79] An old form of "mess."

[80] "The term no doubt has reference to the sumptuary enactments
regulating the breadth of the lace which was allowed to be
worn."--COLLINS.

[81] Mock-velvet.

[82] Quarrelling, squabbling.

[83] Business.

[84] I bet my cap to a noble (a gold coin).

[85] Strong ale that makes men swagger and bluster.

[86] Sendal, "a kinde of Cypres stuffe or silke."--_Minsheu, Guide into
the Tongues_, 1617. Sussapine is supposed by Collins to be a corruption
of "gossampine," meaning a cotton cloth.

[87] Attending to.

[88] Toil.

[89] Intend.

[90] Prepared.

[91] Pieces of silver money.

[92] The quartos are unintelligible. This is the conjectural reading of
Mr J. C. Smith, given in Collins' edition.

[93] Compassion.

[94] Rustic dialect for "I trow I taught."

[95] The quartos have "_Enters_ RADAGON _solus_."

[96] Straits.

[97] Drab.

[98] Printed "Satropos," but the word is a title and not a proper name.

[99] A faggot in a hostelry, which is kept alight by the guests.

[100] "Bird" is the young of an animal. Adam is talking euphuistical
nonsense.

[101] A leathern bag or bottle for wine.

[102] _White_ is an epithet of endearment.

[103] A lease by word of mouth.

[104] "Drabler, an additional piece of canvas, laced to the bottom of
the bonnet of a sail, to give it greater depth."--(N. E. D.)

[105] Bisa; the north wind.

[106] Cotton-cloth, or bumbast.

[107] Press, similar to "mease" for "mess," p. 102.

[108] Ready.

[109] Companion, therefore--equal.

[110] Axis.

[111] Confound, therefore to destroy.

[112] Adyt; the innermost sanctuary of a temple.

[113] "The ale" here means the ale-house, as it does in Shakespeare's
_Two Gentlemen of Verona_ (II. 5).

[114] A famous comic trick in the early plays. Adam is a late figure of
the Vice type. Compare _Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay_ (V. 2) in which
Miles is carried off on a Devil's back.

[115] Bold, brave.

[116] An instrument used by pick-pockets in cutting purses.

[117] To shave or cut, therefore to pillage, plunder.

[118] To draw, to pour; here used in the sense of "to fill."

[119] Let all the standing-bowls go round.

[120] This is the emendation by J. C. Smith, given in Collins' edition,
of the unintelligible "Lamana" of the quartos.

[121] A reminiscence of Kyd's _Spanish Tragedy_ (Scene XII), in which
Hieronimo enters with a poniard and a rope.

[122] Decoys.

[123] Know not.

[124] A very faithful paraphrase of chapter 4 of the book of _Jonah_.

[125] Wide breeches, here breeches pockets.

[126] The head of a red-herring. The term may have become synonymous
with the fish itself. Adam's meaning cannot be said to be very clear.

[127] I could endure.

[128] A fine white bread.

[129] Breeches.

[130] The quartos give "Lepher," which is unintelligible. This reading
is Dyce's conjecture. It is of little moment that these places are not
plains but mountains.

[131] Own.

[132] The title in the quartos was "The History of Orlando Furioso, one
of the Twelve Peers of France."

[133] Judgment.

[134] "To man" is a term in falconry, and means to accustom to man, to
make tractable.

[135] Cuirasses.

[136] A false quantity.

[137] Dominion.

[138] Here as elsewhere improperly used as the name of a place.

[139] These four lines occur nearly verbatim towards the end of Peele's
_Old Wives' Tale_, ll. 885-8.

[140] Pearls.

[141] Cliffs.

[142] Same as French _rebattre_, beat back.

[143] An allusion to the recent repulse of the Spanish Armada.

[144] Blasts.

[145] Giglot, a wanton woman.

[146] Thraso and Gnatho were well-known characters in the _Eunuchus_
of Terence, and references to them are very common in the works of
Elizabethan writers.

[147] Hurled, dashed to pieces.

[148] In his _Francesco's Fortunes_ Greene satirizes "Ave Cæsar" as it
occurs in _Edward III._, presumably by Marlowe.

[149] Love.

[150] Confounded, dismayed.

[151] At this point the Alleyn manuscript begins.

[152] The first four of these lines are, with the exception of the last
half of the first line, from the 117th stanza of the twenty-seventh
Canto of Ariosto's _Orlando Furioso_; the other four are from the 121st
stanza of the same Canto.

[153] A corrupt passage is here supplemented by words from the Alleyn
manuscript.

[154] A streamer attached to a lance.

[155] See _Odyssey_ X. 302, and following. A stock reference in
Euphuism.

[156] A phrase signifying excess; probably "understanding" should be
supplied.

[157] Mad.

[158] Another false quantity.

[159] The designation in the quartos is "the Clown."

[160] Makes Canopus look dark.

[161] Fiddler is undoubtedly played by Tom, the clown who had before
played Angelica. See the next speech.

[162] Apprehend, take in.

[163] Signifying that the actor could extemporise as he chose. _Ad
lib., ad libitum_ would now be the direction.

[164] The Muses.

[165] A corrupt passage is here supplemented by four lines from the
Alleyn manuscript.

[166] An interesting reminder of the exigencies of Elizabethan stage
technique. The scenes represent different localities, but as Sacripant
dies at the end of a scene, his body remains on the stage until removed
by the best means possible.

[167] Silly-minded.

[168] Amiss, fault.

[169] In spite of, notwithstanding.

[170] Orlando is adapting his language to his disguise.

[171] Splendid.

[172] "A kinde of Cipres stuffe or silke." Minsheu, _Guide into the
Tongues,_ 1617.

[173] Outstripped.

[174] Hunting-dogs.

[175] A coarse woolen cloth.

[176] For _alamort_: dejected.

[177] Pearls.

[178] Cliffs.

[179] Rarer.

[180] Made that woman blush. That, etc.

[181] Pocket.

[182] Pass by, outstrip.

[183] Be you assured.

[184] The magical five-rayed star used as a defence against demons.

[185] Care not for.

[186] Guests.

[187] Confounded.

[188] In Bacon's day Brasenose College was not in existence.

[189] Bargain.

[190] Edward could not have fought before Damascus.

[191] Swaggering.

[192] Equivalent to "'swounds," "God's wounds."

[193] Tied by love.

[194] A glass which reflects magically distant or future events and
scenes.

[195] Leathern wine-jugs.

[196] "After Bacon and Edward had walked a few paces about (or perhaps
towards the back of) the stage, the audience were to suppose that the
scene was changed to the interior of Bacon's cell."--DYCE.

[197] "Perhaps the curtain which concealed the upper stage ... was
withdrawn, discovering Margaret and Bungay standing there, and when the
representation in the glass was supposed to be over, the curtain was
drawn back again."--DYCE.

[198] An allusion to the proverb, "Early up and never the nearer."

[199] Breviary, portable prayer-book.

[200] Bullies.

[201] Skeltonical verse.

[202] A term of endearment.

[203] Loose shoes.

[204] The allusion is to Alexander Barclay's English version (1509) of
Sebastian Brant's _Narrenschiff_.

[205] "An expression borrowed from the author whose style is here
imitated--

    "_Construas hoc,_
    _Domine_ Dawcocke!
    'Ware the Hauke, Skelton."--DYCE.

[206] A prison in the old north gate of Oxford, so named after one of
the moods of the third syllogistic figure.

[207] A dance resembling the waltz or polka.

[208] Overturned; literal transference from the Latin.

[209] Nourishing to cattle, productive.

[210] Laden.

[211] Trismegistus.

[212] Porphyry.

[213] An atom compared with.

[214] Possibly the reference is to Lutetia (Paris) rather than Utrecht,
which was not yet a university town.

[215] Love-kindling looks.

[216] "The salt-cellar, generally a very large and massive one, stood
in the middle of the table; guests of superior rank always sat above it
towards the upper part of the table, those of inferior rank below it
towards the bottom."--COLLINS.

[217] Spices.

[218] Dried plums.

[219] Sugar plums.

[220] Protuberant.

[221] Cliffs.

[222] The stage direction is, "_Enter Friar Bacon drawing the curtains,
with a white stick, a book in his hand,_" etc.

[223] Greene uses the same pun in _A Looking Glass_, Act I. scene 2.

[224] A watchman's pike or halbert.

[225] Miles' blundering reminiscences of "Cunctator."

[226] Miles is here punning on "coursed."

[227] Beyond all measure.

[228] These are discovered in the upper stage just as Margaret and
Friar Bungay were discovered in Act. II. scene 3.

[229] Venture.

[230] A bout.

[231] Dyce suggests that Greene here meant "scholars." Gayley suggests
that Bacon may have taken the glass.

[232] Britons.

[233] _Mutton_ is a cant term for a prostitute.

[234] _Welt_ and _guard_ are synonymous: without facing or ornament, as
these are against the statute.

[235] A pack.

[236] "The 'curtana' or 'pointless sword' of mercy; the 'pointed sword'
of justice; the 'golden rod' of equity."--GAYLEY.

[237] Here begins a compliment to Queen Elizabeth.

[238] The complete title of the 1598 edition was, "The Scottish History
of James the Fourth, Slain at Flodden. Intermixed with a pleasant
comedy, presented by Oberon King of Fairies."

[239] "A technical term for the burlesque dance of an anti-masque,
and there being several performers takes a plural verb."--W. W. Greg,
_Modern Language Review_, I., p. 248.

[240] Collins defines this, after Skeat, as a stableman, a
stable-cleaner.

[241] My quiet.

[242] I'll make.

[243] Erewhile. Greene's Scottish dialect is not very accurate.

[244] Advise.

[245] Contradict.

[246] Sword, dagger.

[247] Never the nearer: a favourite phrase with old writers.

[248] Some words are wanting here.

[249] Hold you your chattering.

[250] Decoys.

[251] Hold back.

[252] "To" is here used in the sense of "compared with."

[253] Tablets, memorandum books.

[254] My soul.

[255] Dwelt.

[256] Greene probably intended a Scotch dialect form of "lovely."

[257] The player was expected to extemporise until off the stage.

[258] The scene between Bohan and Oberon may properly be entitled
"Chorus," as such scenes appear at the end of each act with the
exception of the fifth. The relationship of the three dumb shows with
the play as a whole and with each other has not been explained. In many
places the text is hopelessly corrupt.

[259] The entire passage is so corrupt as to be unintelligible.

[260] Manly's readjustment of a corrupt passage, based upon a
suggestion by Kittredge, has been accepted.

[261] The song is not inserted. It was not necessarily composed by the
author of the play.

[262] Frown.

[263] Words that describe you.

[264] Cozener's terms.

[265] Prepared, ready.

[266] What then?

[267] Gnatho is the parasite in the _Eunuchus_ of Terence. Here and
elsewhere in this play the name refers specifically to Ateukin.

[268] Printed "Gnatho."

[269] Silent.

[270] The text of this Chorus is very corrupt.

[271] A piece of money worth from 6_s._ to 10_s._ Puns upon the several
meanings of the word were frequent.

[272] Strike, beat.

[273] ϕιλαυτία, self-love, Collier's emendation of a meaningless
passage in the quartos.

[274] The word "gentlemen" is addressed to the audience.

[275] An Irish coin below the value of the earliest shilling, so called
from having a harp on it.

[276] Babbler, chatterer.

[277] Strut.

[278] This lyrical passage was undoubtedly sung.

[279] See _Æneid_ XII., 411; a favourite allusion of the Euphuists.

[280] Again addressed to the audience.

[281] A church seat for loungers, the original in Carfax Church,
Oxford. To sit on Pennyless Bench indicated extreme poverty.

[282] Kittredge's emendation. For the unintelligible "lakus" of the
quarto one would accept Collier's conjecture "Jack-ass," were it not
for the fact, enunciated by Collins (after N. E. D.), that this word
was unknown before the eighteenth century.

[283] Collier's emendation for "a rapier and dagger," it being clear
that Slipper has miscalled the weapons.

[284] So also in the quarto, line 5, scene v. of this act, French "oui"
is spelled "wee."

[285] Shrew.

[286] Love.

[287] The sword of Sir Bevis of Southampton; the common synonym for a
sword.

[288] Manly's suggested emendation of the meaningless "His grave, I
see, is made," of the quarto.

[289] Revive, resuscitate him.

[290] Waiting for.

[291] "To the speeches of the King of England throughout this scene
is prefixed _Arius_. Collier remarks, _History of English Dramatic
Poetry_, iii. 161, 'It is a singular circumstance that the King of
England is called _Arius_, as if Greene at the time he wrote had some
scruple in naming Henry VIII. on account of the danger of giving
offence to the Queen and Court.'"--COLLINS.

[292] Pillage, plunder.

[293] Tried, skilled.

[294] Then.

[295] From this point the scene is confused.

[296] Grimaces.

[297] Truest love of all.

[298] By dramatic convention this speech should belong to the King of
Scots.

[299] One who impounds stray cattle.

[300] Lower.

[301] Inroad.

[302] In ballad style, though not found in the ballad "The Jolly Pinder
of Wakefield."

[303] Affections.

[304] For "enjoin."

[305] A woman who sells "souce" or brine for pickling.

[306] "Allusions to velvet as being costly, fine, and luxurious are
very common in the Elizabethan writers."--COLLINS.

[307] Pay the penalty for.

[308] Lose.

[309] Here the scene may be supposed to have changed, although George
has not left the stage. In the quarto the scene runs on without break.

[310] Through a door at the back of the stage.

[311] Love.

[312] Colour, complexion.

[313] The stage direction in the quarto is: Enter a Shoemaker sitting
upon the stage at work: Jenkin to him.

[314] Beggar.

[315] Bold, brave.

[316] See the ballad printed in the Appendix.

[317] Dear.

[318] Derived first from the language of the chase, this phrase
probably came to mean "dogs of all kinds."

[319] Confound.