MUCH.  A boon, a boon, upon my knee,
      Good King Richard, I beg of thee! 
For indeed, sir, the troth is, Much is my father, and he is one of your
tenants, in King’s Mill at Wakefield, all on a green:—­
      O there dwelleth a jolly pinder,
      At Wakefield, all on a green.[272]
Now I would have you, if you will do so much for me, to set me forward
in the way of marriage to Jenny:  the mill would not be cast away upon us.

KING.  Much, be thou ever master of that mill: 
I give it thee for thine inheritance.

MUCH.  Thanks, precious prince of courtesy. 
I’ll to Jenny, and tell her of my lands, i’faith.
          
                                [Exit.

JOHN.  Here, Friar, here; here it begins.

FRIAR (reads).  “When Harold Harefoot reigned king,
About my neck he put this ring.”

KING.  In Harold’s time? more than a hundred year
Hath this ring been about this new-slain deer! 
I am sorry now it died; but let the same
Head, ring and all, be sent to Nottingham,
And in the castle kept for monument.[273]

FITZ.  My liege, I heard an old tale long ago,
That Harold, being Godwin’s son of Kent,[274]
When he had got fair England’s government,
Hunted for pleasure once within this wood,
And singled out a fair and stately stag,
Which foot to foot the king in running caught: 
And sure this was the stag.

KING.  It was, no doubt.

CHES.  But some, my lord, affirm
That Julius Caesar, many years before,
Took such a stag, and such a poesy writ.

KING.  It should not be in Julius Caesar’s time. 
There was no English used in this land
Until the Saxons came; and this is writ
In Saxon characters.

JOHN.  Well, ’twas a goodly beast.

    Enter ROBIN HOOD.

KING.  How now, Earl Robert?

FRIAR.  A forfeit, a forfeit, my liege lord! 
My master’s laws are on record! 
The court-roll here your grace may see.

KING.  I pray thee, Friar, read it me.[275]

FRIAR.  One shall suffice, and this is he. 
No man, that cometh in this wood
To feast or dwell with Robin Hood,
Shall call him earl, lord, knight, or squire: 
He no such titles doth desire,
But Robin Hood, plain Robin Hood,
That honest yeoman stout and good,
On pain of forfeiting a mark,
That must be paid to me his clerk. 
My liege, my liege, this law you broke,
Almost in the last word you spoke: 
That crime may not acquitted be,
Till Friar Tuck receive his fee.

KING.  There’s more than twenty marks, mad Friar.
                              [Casts him purse.

FRIAR.  If thus you pay the clerk his hire,
Oft may you forfeit, I desire. 
You are a perfect penitent,
And well you do your wrong repent: 
For this your highness’ liberal gift
I here absolve you without shrift.