orsake his dear,
The lark doth chant her cheerful lay;
Aurora smiles with merry cheer,
To welcome in a happy day_.

2.
_The beasts do skip,
The sweet birds sing;
The wood-nymphs dance,
The echoes ring_.

3.
_The hollow caves with joy resounds,
And pleasure ev'rywhere abounds;
The Graces, linking hand in hand,
In love have knit a glorious band_.

_Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW, _old_ PLOD-ALL, _and his son_ PETER.

PLOD-ALL.
Hear you, Master Goodfellow, how have you sped?

PETER PLOD-ALL.
Ha' you played the devil bravely, and feared the scholar out on's wits?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
A pox of the scholar!

PLOD-ALL.
Nay, hark you: I sent you vorty shillings, and you shall have the cheese
I promised you too.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
A plague of the vorty shillings, and the cheese too!

PETER PLOD-ALL.
Hear you, will you give me the powder you told me of?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
How you vex me! Powder, quotha? zounds, I have been powdered.

PLOD-ALL.
Son, I doubt he will prove a crafty knave, and cosen us of our money.
We'll go to Master Justice, and complain on him, and get him whipped out
o' the country for a coneycatcher.

PETER PLOD-ALL.
Ay, or have his ears nailed to the pillory. Come, let's go.

[_Exeunt_ PLOD-ALL _and his son_.

_Enter_ CHURMS.

CHURMS.
Fellow Robin, what news? how goes the world?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
Faith, the world goes, I cannot tell how. How sped you with your wench?

CHURMS.
I would the wench were at the devil! A plague upon't, I never say my
prayers; and that makes me have such ill-luck.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
I think the scholar be hunted with some demi-devil.

CHURMS.
Why, didst thou fray him?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
Fray him? a vengeance on't! all our shifting knavery's known; we are
counted very vagrants. Zounds, I am afraid of every officer for
whipping.

CHURMS.
We are horribly haunted: our behaviour is so beastly, that we are grown
loathsome; our craft gets us nought but knocks.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
What course shall we take now?

CHURMS.
Faith, I cannot tell: let's e'en run our country; for here's no staying
for us.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
Faith, agreed: let's go into some place where we are not known, and
there set up the art of knavery with the second edition.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ GRIP