Robin-hood, Clarion, Lionel, Alken.

    Rob. O, are you here, my Mistris?
    Mar. I, my Love!
                    [She seeing him, runs to embrace him.
Where should I be, but in my Robin's arms?
The Sphere wich I delight in, so to move?
    Rob. What the rude Ranger? and spied Spy? hand off:
You are not for such Rusticks.             [ He puts her back.
    Mar. What means this,
Thrice worthy Clarion? or wise Alken? know ye?
    Rob. 'Las no, not they! a poor starv'd Mutton's
        Carkass
Would better fit their Palat's, than your Venison.
    Mar. What Riddle is this! unfold your self, dear
        Robin.
    Rob. You ha' not sent your Venison hence by Scathlock,
To Mother Maudlin?
Will Scathlock say so?
    Rob. Nay, we will all swear so.
For all did hear it, when you gave the charge so.
Both Clarion, Alken, Lionel, my self.
    Mar. Good honest Shep'herds, Masters of your Flocks,
Simple, and vertuous Men, no others Hirelings;
Be not you made to speak against your Conscience,
That which may soil the truth. I send the Venison
Away? by Scathlock? and to Mother Maudlin?
I came to shew it here, to Mellifleur,
I do confess; but Amie's falling ill,
Did put us off it: Since we imploy'd our selves
In comforting of her. O, here he is!         [Scathlock enters.
Did, I, Sir, bid you bear away the Venison,
to Mother Maudlin?
    Sca. I, gud faith, Madam,
Did you, and I ha'done it.
    Mar. What ha' you done?
    Sca. Obey'd your hests, Madam; done your Commands.
    Mar. Done my Commands, dull Groom? Fetch it again,
Or Kennel with the Hounds. Are these the Arts,
Robin, you read your rude ones o' the Wood,
To countenance your quarrels, and mistakings?
Or are the Sportsto entertain your Friends,
Those formed Jealousies? Ask of Mellifleur,
If i were ever from her, here, or Amie,
Since I came in with them; or saw this Scathlock,Since I related to you his Tale o'the Raven?
    Sca. I, say you so?         [Scathlock goes out.
    Mel. She never left my side
Since I came in, here, nor I hers.     Cla. This's strange!
our best of Senses were deceiv'd, our Eyes, then!
    Lio. And Ears too.     Mar. What have you concluded on,
Make good, I pray you.     Am. O my heart, my heart!
    Mar. My heart it is, is wounded, pretty Amie;
Report not you your Griefs: I'll tell for all.
    Mell. Some body is to blame, there is a fault.
    Mar. Try if you can take rest. A little slumber
Will much refreh you(Amie)     Alk. What's her grief?
    Mar. She does not know: and therein she is happy.