Let's be resolute, let's fly to and again; and if the devil come, we'll put him to his Interrogatories, and not budge a foot. What? s'foot, I'll put fire into you, ye shall all three serve the good Duke of Norfolk.

SMUG. Mine host, my bully, my pretious consull, my noble Holofernes, I have been drunk i' thy house twenty times and ten, all's for that: I was last night in the third heavens, my brain was poor, it had yest in 't; but now I am a man of action; is 't not so, lad?

BANKS. Why, now thou hast two of the liberall sciences about thee, wit and reason, thou maist serve the Duke of Europe.

SMUG. I will serve the Duke of Christendom, and do him more credit in his celler then all the plate in his buttery; is 't not so, lad?

SIR JOHN. Mine host and Smug, stand there; Banks, you and your horse keep together; but lie close, shew no tricks, for fear of the keeper. If we be scared, we'll meet in the Church-porch at Enfield.

SMUG. Content, sir John.

BANKS. Smug, dost not thou remember the tree thou felst out of last Night?

SMUG. Tush, and 't had been as high as the Abbey, I should nere have hurt my self; I have fallen into the river, coming home from Waltham, and scapt drowning.

SIR JOHN. Come, sever, fear no sprits! We'll have a Buck presently; we have watched later then this for a Doe, mine Host.

HOST. Thou speakst as true as velvet.

SIR JOHN. Why then, come! Grass and hay, etc.

[Exeunt.]

[Enter Clare, Jerningham, and Milliscent.]

CLARE. Franke Jerningham!

JERNINGHAM. Speak softly, rogue; how now?

CLARE. S'foot, we shall lose our way, it's so dark; whereabouts are we?

JERNINGHAM. Why, man, at Potters gate; the way lies right: hark! the clock strikes at Enfield; what's the hour?

CLARE. Ten, the bell says.

JERNINGHAM. A lies in's throat, it was but eight when we set out of Chesson. Sir John and his Sexton are at ale to night, the clock runs at random.

CLARE. Nay, as sure as thou liv'st, the villanous vicar is abroad in the chase this dark night: the stone Priest steals more venison then half the country.

JERNINGHAM. Milliscent, how dost thou?

MILLISCENT. Sir, very well. I would to God we were at Brians lodge.

CLARE. We shall anon; z'ounds, hark! What means this noise?

JERNINGHAM. Stay, I hear horsemen.

CLARE. I hear footmen too.

JERNINGHAM. Nay, then I have it: we have been discovered, And we are followed by our fathers men.

MILLISCENT. Brother and friend, alas, what shall we do?

CLARE. Sister, speak softly, or we are descried. They are hard upon us, what so ere they be, Shadow your self behind this brake of fern, We'll get into the wood, and let them pass.

[Enter Sir John, Blague, Smug, and Banks, one after another.]

SIR JOHN. Grass and hay! we are all mortall; the keepers abroad, and there's an end.

BANKS. Sir John!

SIR JOHN. Neighbour Banks, what news?

BANKS. Z'wounds, Sir John, the keepers are abroad; I was hard by 'am.

SIR JOHN. Grass and hay! where's mine host Blague?

BLAGUE. Here, Metrapolitane. The philistines are upon us, be silent; let us serve the good Duke of Norfolk. But where is Smug?

SMUG. Here; a pox on ye all, dogs; I have kild the greatest Buck in Brians walk. Shift for your selves, all the keepers are up: let's meet in Enfield church porch; away, we are all taken else.

[Exeunt.]

[Enter Brian, with his man, and his hound.]

BRIAN. Raph, hearst thou any stirring?

RAPH. I heard one speak here hard by, in the bottom. Peace, Maister, speak low; zownes, if I did not hear a bow go off, and the Buck bray, I never heard deer in my life.

BRIAN. When went your fellows out into their walks?

RAPH. An hour ago.

BRIAN. S'life, is there stealers abroad, and they cannot hear Of them: where the devil are my men to night? Sirra, go up the wind towards Buckleyes lodge. I'll cast about the bottom with my hound, And I will meet thee under Cony ocke.

RAPH. I will, Sir.

BRIAN. How now? by the mass, my hound stays upon something; hark, hark, Bowman, hark, hark, there!

MILLISCENT. Brother, Frank Jerningham, brother Clare!

BRIAN. Peace; that's a woman's voice! Stand! who's there? Stand, or I'll shoot.

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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