aid on
him.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
Speak, man; what, art afraid? what makest here?

WILL CRICKET.
A poor fellow, sir: ha' been drinking two or three pots of ale at an
alehouse, and ha' lost my way, sir.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
O! nay, then I see, thou art a good fellow: seest thou not Master
Churms the lawyer to-day?

WILL CRICKET.
No, sir; would you speak with him?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
Ay, marry, would I.

WILL CRICKET.
If I see him, I'll tell him you would speak with him.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
Nay, prithee, stay. Who wilt thou tell him would speak with him?

WILL CRICKET.
Marry, you, sir.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
I? who am I?

WILL CRICKET.
Faith, sir, I know not.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
If thou seest him, tell him Robin Goodfellow would speak with him.

WILL CRICKET.
O, I will sir. [Exit WILL CRICKET.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
Mass, the fellow was afraid. I play the bugbear wheresoe'er I come, and
make them all afraid. But here comes Master Churms.

_Enter_ CHURMS.

CHURMS.
Fellow Robin, God save you: I have been seeking for you in every
alehouse in the town.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
What, Master Churms? What's the best news abroad? 'tis long since I
see you.

CHURMS.
Faith, little news: but yet I am glad I have met with you. I have a
matter to impart to you wherein you may stand me in some stead, and make
a good benefit to yourself: if we can deal cunningly, 'twill be worth a
double fee to you, by the Lord.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
A double fee? speak, man; what is't? If it be to betray mine own father,
I'll do it for half a fee; and for cunning let me alone.

CHURMS.
Why then, this it is: here is Master Gripe hard by, a client of mine, a
man of mighty wealth, who has but one daughter; her dowry is her weight
in gold. Now, sir, this old pennyfather would marry her to one Peter
Plod-all, rich Plod-all's son and heir; whom though his father means to
leave very rich, yet he's a very idiot and brownbread clown, and one I
know the wench does deadly hate: and though their friends have given
their full consent, and both agreed on this unequal match, yet I know
that Lelia will never marry him. But there's another rival in her
love--one Sophos; and he's a scholar, one whom I think fair Lelia dearly
loves, but her father hates him as he hates a toad; for he's in want,
and Gripe gapes after gold, and still relies upon the old-said saw, _Si
nihil attuleris_, &c.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
And wherein can I do you any good in this