_Gertrude_, a word with you.

_Ger._ Why is this stop, Sir?

_Gos._ I have no more time left me, but to kiss thee, And tell thee this, I am ever thine: farewel wench. [_Exit._

_Ger._ And is that all your Ceremony? Is this a wedding?

Are all my hopes and prayers turn'd to nothing?

Well, I will say no more, nor sigh, nor sorrow; Till to thy face I prove thee false. Ah me! [_Exit._

_ACTUS QUINTUS. SCENA PRIMA._

_Enter_ Gertrude, _and a_ Boor.

_Ger._ Lead, if thou thinkst we are right: why dost thou make These often stands? thou saidst thou knewst the way.

_Bo._ Fear nothing, I do know it: would 'twere homeward.

_Ger._ Wrought from me by a Beggar? at the time That most should tye him? 'tis some other Love That hath a more command on his affections, And he that fetcht him, a disguised Agent, Not what he personated; for his fashion Was more familiar with him, and more powerful Than one that ask'd an alms: I must find out One, if not both: kind darkness be my shrowd, And cover loves too curious search in me, For yet, suspicion, I would not name thee.

_Bo._ Mistris, it grows somewhat pretty and dark.

_Ger._ What then?

_Bo._ Nay, nothing; do not think I am afraid, Although perhaps you are.

_Ger._ I am not, forward.

_Bo._ Sure but you are? give me your hand, fear nothing.

There's one leg in the wood, do not pull me backward: What a sweat one on's are in, you or I?

Pray G.o.d it do not prove the plague; yet sure It has infected me; for I sweat too, It runs out at my knees, feel, feel, I pray you.

_Ger._ What ails the fellow?

_Bo._ Hark, hark I beseech you, Do you hear nothing?

_Ger._ No.

_Bo._ List: a wild Hog, He grunts: now 'tis a Bear: this wood is full of 'em, And now, a Wolf, Mistress, a Wolf, a Wolf, It is the howling of a Wolf.

_Ger._ The braying of an a.s.s, is it not?

_Bo._ Oh, now one has me; Oh my left haunch, farewel.

_Ger._ Look to your Shanks, Your Breech is safe enough, the Wolf's a Fern-brake.

_Bo._ But see, see, see, there is a Serpent in it; It has eyes as broad as Platters; it spits fire; Now it creeps towards us, help me to say my Prayers: It hath swallowed me almost, my breath is stopt; I cannot speak: do I speak Mistress? tell me.

_Ger._ Why, thou strange timerous Sot, canst thou perceive Any thing i'th' Bush but a poor Glo-worm?

_Bo._ It may be 'tis but a Glo-worm now, but 'twill Grow to a Fire-drake presently.

_Ger._ Come thou from it: I have a precious guide of you, and a courteous, That gives me leave to lead my self the way thus.

_Bo._ It thunders, you hear that now?

_Ger._ I hear one hollow.

_Bo._ 'Tis thunder, thunder: See, a Flash of Lightning: Are you not blasted Mistress? pull your Mask off, It has plaid the Barber with me here: I have lost My Beard, my Beard, pray G.o.d you be not shaven, 'Twill spoil your Marriage Mistress.

_Ger._ What strange Wonders Fear fancies in a Coward!

_Bo._ Now the Earth opens.

_Ger._ Prithee hold thy peace.

_Bo._ Will you on then?

_Ger._ Both love and jealousie have made me bold, Where my Fate leads me, I must go. [_Exit._

_Bo._ G.o.d be with you then.

_Enter_ Woolfort, Hemskirk, _and_ Attendants.

_Hem._ It was the Fellow sure, he that should guide me, The Hunts-man that did hollow us.

_Woolf._ Best make a stand, And listen to his next: Ha!

_Hem._ Who goes there?

_Bo._ Mistress, I am taken.

_Hem._ Mistress? Look forth Souldiers.

_Woolf._ What are you Sirrah?

_Bo._ Truly all is left Of a poor Boor, by day-light, by night no body, You might have spar'd your Drum, and Guns, and Pikes too For I am none that will stand out Sir, I.

You may take me in with a walking Stick, Even when you please, and hold me with a packthred.

_Hem._ What woman was't you call'd to?

_Bo._ Woman! none Sir.

_Woolf._ None! did you not name Mistress?