'Tis not one hour's pleasure that I suspect more than your mother's good, countenance. If she be asleep, we may be bold under correction; if she be awake, I may go my ways, and nobody ask me, _Grim, whither goest thou_? Nay, I tell you, I am so well beloved in our town, that not the worst dog in the street will hurt my little finger.
JOAN. Why speak you this? You need not fear my mother, For she was fast asleep four hours ago.
GRIM. Is she, sure? Did you hear her snort in her dead sleep? Why then, Joan, I have an hour's mirth for thee.
JOAN. And I a mess of cream for thee.
GRIM. Why, there is one for another then: fetch it, Joan; we will eat and kiss, and be as merry as your cricket. [_Exit_ JOAN _for the cream_.] Art thou gone for it? Well, go thy ways for the kindest lass that ever poor collier met withal? I mean for to make short work with her, and marry her presently. I'll single her out, i'faith, till I make her bear double, and give the world to understand we will have a young Grim between us.
_Enter_ JOAN _with the cream_.
JOAN. Look here, my love, 'tis sweeten'd for thy mouth.
GRIM. You have put none of your love-powder in it, to make me enamourable of you, have you, Joan? I have a simple pate, to expect you! [_One knocketh at the door_.] Joan, hark, my brains beat, my head works, and my mind giveth me: some lovers of yours come sneaking hither now; I like it not, 'tis suspectious.
[_One knocketh again_.
JOAN. You need not fear it; for there is none alive Shall bear the least part of my heart from thee.
GRIM. Say'st thou so? hold there still, and whoe'er he be, open door to him.
_She openeth the door. Enter_ SHORTHOSE, _and_ ROBIN _after him_.
JOAN. What, Master Parson, are you come so late?
You are welcome; here's none but Grim and I.
SHO. Joan, I'll no more a-nutting go, I was so beaten to and fro; And yet who it was, I do not know.
GRIM. What, Master Parson, are you come so late to say eveningsong to your parishioners? I have heard of your knavery. I give you a fair warning; touch her no lower than her girdle, and no higher than her chin: I keep her lips and her hips for my own use. I do; and so welcome.
ROBIN. This two hours have I dogg'd the parson round about all Croydon, doubting some such thing. [_Aside_.]
SHO. No, Grim, I here forswear to touch Thy Joan, or any other such: Love hath been so cudgell'd out of me, I'll go no more to wood with thee.
ROB. 'Twas Robin beat this holy mind into him.
I think more cudgelling would make him more honest. [_Aside_.]
GRIM. You speak like an honest man and a good parson, and that is more.
Here's Joan's benevolation for us, a mess of cream and so forth. Here is your place, Master Parson. Stand on the t'other side of the table, Joan.
Eat hard to-night, that thou may marry us the better to-morrow.
ROB. What, is my brother Grim so good a fellow.
[_They fall to the cream_.
I love a mess of cream as well as they; I think it were best I stepp'd in and made one. [_Aside_.]
Ho, ho, ho,[476] my masters! No good fellowship!
Is Robin Goodfellow a bugbear grown, [ROBIN _falleth to eat_.
That he is not worthy to be bid sit down?
GRIM. O Lord, save us! sure, he is some country-devil; he hath got a russet coat upon his face.
[GRIM _and_ SHORTHOSE _retire to the back of the stage_.]
SHO. Now, _benedicite_! who is this?
I take him for some fiend, i-wis;[477]
O, for some holy-water here Of this same place this spirit to clear!
ROB. Nay, fear not, Grim, come fall unto your cream: Tut, I am thy friend; why dost not come and eat?
GRIM. I, sir? truly, master devil, I am well here, I thank you.
ROB. I'll have thee come, I say. Why, tremblest thou?
GRIM. No, sir, not I; 'tis a palsy I have still. Truly, sir, I have no great acquaintance with you.
ROB. Thou shalt have better, man, ere I depart.
GRIM. I will not, and if I can choose.
ROB. Nay, come away, and bring your love with you.
GRIM. Joan! you were best go to him, Joan.
ROB. What, shall I fetch thee, man? The cream is sweet.
GRIM. No, sir, I am coming: much good do't you. I had need of a long spoon, now I go to eat with the devil.[478]
ROB. The parson's penance shall be thus to fast.
Come, tell me, Grim, dost thou not know me, man?
GRIM. No, truly, sir; I am a poor man fetcheth my living out of the fire; your worship may be a gentleman devil, for aught I know.
ROB. Some men call me Robin Goodfellow.
GRIM. O Lord, sir! Master Robert Goodfellow, you are very welcome, sir.
ROB. This half year have I liv'd about this town, Helping poor servants to despatch their work, To brew and bake, and other husbandry.
Tut, fear not, maid; if Grim be merry, I will make up the match between ye.
GRIM. There will be a match in the devil's name!
ROB. Well, now the night is almost spent, Since your affections all are bent To marriage and to constant love, Grim, Robin doth thy choice approve; And there's the priest shall marry you: Go to it, and make no more ado: Sirrah, sir priest, go get you gone, And join both her and him anon; But ne'er hereafter let me take you With wanton love-tricks, lest I make you Example to all stone-priests ever, To deal with other men's loves never.
SHO. _Valete vos_, and God bless me, And rid me from his company!
Come, Grim, I'll join you hand in hand, In sacred wedlock's holy band.
I will no more a-nutting go, That journey caused all this woe.
GRIM. Come, let's to hand in hand quickly. Master Robert, you were ever one of the honestest merry devils that ever I saw.
JOAN. Sweet Grim, and if thou lovest me, let's away.