Y

But tell me
Where is Prince John?

A MASKER

That burly-shouldered man
By yonder pillar, talking with old Fitzwalter,
And the masked girl, in green, with red-gold hair,
Is Lady Marian!

THE LADY

Where is Robin Hood?
I have never seen him, but from all one hears
He is a wood-god and a young Apollo,
And a more chaste Actaeon all in one.

MASKER

Oh, ay, he never watched Diana bathing,
Or, if he did, all Sherwood winked at it.
Who knows? Do you believe a man and maid
Can sleep out in the woods all night, as these
Have slept a hundred times, and put to shame
Our first poor parents; throw the apple aside
And float out of their leafy Paradise
Like angels?

LADY

No; I fear the forest boughs
Could tell sad tales. Oh, I imagine it--
Married to Robin, by a fat hedge-priest
Under an altar of hawthorn, with a choir
Of sparrows, and a spray of cuckoo-spit
For holy water! Oh, the modest chime
Of blue-bells from a fairy belfry, a veil
Of evening mist, a robe of golden hair;
A blade of grass for a ring; a band of thieves
In Lincoln green to witness the sweet bans;
A glow-worm for a nuptial taper, a bed
Of rose-leaves, and wild thyme and wood-doves' down.
Quick! Draw the bridal curtains--three tall ferns--
Across the cave mouth, lest a star should peep
And make the wild rose leap into her face!
Pish! A sweet maid! But where is Robin Hood?

MASKER

I know not; but he'd better have a care
Of Mistress Marian. If I know Prince John
He has marked her for his own.

LADY

I cannot see
What fascinates him.

MASKER

No, you are right, nor I.

PRINCE JOHN

Come, Lady Marian, let me lead you out
To tread a measure.

MARIAN

Pray, sir, pardon me!
I am tired.

FITZWALTER

[_Whispering angrily to her._]

Now, Marian, be not so ungracious.
You both abuse him and disparage us.
His courtiers led the ladies they did choose.
Do not displease him, girl. I pray you, go!
Dance out your galliard. God's dear holy-bread,
Y'are too forgetful. Dance, or by my troth,
You'll move my patience. I say