with proud looks outface young Henry's pride.

LEI. Look to them, Lancaster, upon thy life.

RED. Well, I'll r-run and get a p-pardon of the k-k-k-king, Gl-Gloster
and Skink ta-ta-taken! O b-b-brave, r-r-r-run, Re-Re-Redca-cap, a-and
ca-ca-carry the first n-n-news to Co-Co-Court.

LEI. Lancaster, I'll help to guard them to the Court.

LAN. Do as you please.

GLO. Leicester, do not come near me;
For, if thou do, thou shalt buy it dearly.

LEI. I'll have thy hand for this.

GLO. Not for thy heart.

SKINK. Brave Earl, had Skink known thou hadst been the noble Gloster
(whose mad tricks have made me love thee), I would have dyed Blackheath
red with the blood of millions, ere we would have been taken; but what
remedy? we are fast, and must answer it like gentlemen, like soldiers,
like resolutes.

GLO. Aye, ye are a gallant. Come, old Lancaster.
For thy sake will I go, or else, by heaven,
I'd send some dozen of these slaves to hell.

SCENE THE THIRTY-FIRST.

_Enter_ PRINCE RICHARD, ROBIN HOOD, _and_ LADY FAUCONBRIDGE.

LADY F. Your travail and your comfortable news:
This ring, the certain sign you met with him:
Binds me in duteous love unto your grace;
But on my knees I fall, and humbly crave
Importune that no more you ne'er can have.

RICH. Nay, then, ye wrong me, Lady Fauconbridge,
Did you not join your fair white hands,
Swore that ye would forswear your husband's bed,
[And] if I could but find out Gloster?

LADY F. I swear so!

RICH. [Yes,] by heaven.

ROB. Take heed; it's an high oath, my lord.

RICH. What meanest thou, Huntington?

ROB. To save your soul;
I do not love to have my friends forsworn,
She never promis'd, that you urge her with.

RICH. Go to; provoke me not.

ROB. I tell you true;
'Twas I in her attire that promis'd you.
She was gone unto the wizard at Blackheath,
And there had suitors more than a good many.

RICH. Was I deluded then?

LADY F. No, not deluded;
But hind'red from desire unchaste and rude.
O, let me woo ye with the tongue of ruth,
Dewing your princely hand with pity's tears,
That you would leave this most unlawful suit,
If e'er we live, till Fauconbridge be dead,
(As God defend his death I should desire).
Then, if your highness deign so base a match,
And holy laws admit a marriage,
Considering our affinity in blood,
I will become your handmaid, not your harlot--
That shame shall never dwell upon my brow.

ROB. I'fait