Excerpt from Act IV, Scene V. The outlaw’s camp.
[During
the following soliloquy, the Outlaws are
increasingly roused
by
Marian’s oratory,
interjecting hoarse cheers and comments ad lib,
e.g.,
“Aye, he’s right,” “That’s true,” “By Jesu, we could do it,” etc.]
MAR. You
seek some words of me to spur you on?
I
know not what to say, for all I ken[1]
Of
Rhetoric is gleaned[2] from
out of books:
Yet
I recall, there was a lesson of
A
scholar, long ago in ancient Greece,
Who,
when his students bid him to describe
The
Three essential points of Eloquence,
He
answer’d always, Action, action, action![3]
The
time for talk is past! I am a youth
And
ignorant of much, but this I know:
You
say you are no army—but you are!
What
is an army, but a body of
Brave
men, united by a solemn bond
Of
courage, discipline, and common purpose?
It
is for you to say if you have Courage;
For
Purpose, here is purpose Paramount!
And,
as for Discipline—’tis your renown:
Your
well-earn’d reputation far and wide
Proclaims
itself: Thy skill with Bow and Arrow
Is
whetted on the hone of Robin Hood,
Its
greatest practisant[4]
the world has seen.
Is’t
possible to doubt it? Know ye not
That
you are masters of a mighty power,
Against
which any foe’s advantage of
Far
greater numbers can avail them not?
Ye
bowmen by your trappings demonstrate
The
nature of your art surpasseth fear:
For
archers wear their Quivers[5]
at their backs,
And
draw from apprehension, deadly strength.
Now bear ye witness to this awesome force!
Let
each man bend his spirit, as his bow,
Upon
the rock of his unyielding will:
Stretch
forth a mighty arm, infix the notch,
Then
pull the steely missile to your fist,
Compound
a plosive tension in your grip,
Foresee
that distant heart offending, then
Release
your pending fear upon your foe!
Let
every pair of hands rain twenty deaths[6]
Upon
the onslaught of the enemy!
The
time is come for stout and steadfast men
Who
waver not to cautious hesitance.
Yon
parched battlefield awaits the taste
Of
Traitors’ blood to satisfy its thirst!
By
God! The soil of England cries to thee,
A
hungry yearning, craving victory!
Deny
it not, Defenders of the Realm!
The
crucible of destiny is nigh:
To
arms! To arms, ye Warriors of the Wood!
For
Richard Lion-heart, and Robin Hood!
[Marian draws her sword and dashes off, and the
Outlaws
all follow, cheering and shouting wildly.]