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 God 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 Ass, 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 God 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. God 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?

Bo. Yes, but she's No woman yet: she should have been this night, But that a Beggar stole away her Bridegroom, Whom we were going to make hue and cry after; I tell you true Sir, she should ha' been married to day; And was the Bride and all; but in came Clause, The old lame Beggar, and whips up Mr Goswin Under his arm; away with him as a Kite, Or an old Fox would swoop away a Gosling.

Hem. 'Tis she, 'tis she, 'tis she: Niece?

Ger. Ha!

Hem. She Sir, This was a noble entrance to your fortune, That being on the point thus to be married, Upon her venture here, you should surprise her.

Woolf. I begin, Hemskirk, to believe my fate, Works to my ends.

Hem. Yes Sir, and this adds trust Unto the fellow our guide, who assur'd me Florez Liv'd in some Merchants shape, as Gerrard did I' the old Beggars, and that he would use Him for the train, to call the other forth; All which we find is done—That's he again— [Holla again.

Woolf. Good, we sent out to meet him.

Hem. Here's the Oak.

Ger. I am miserably lost, thus faln Into my Uncles hands from all my hopes, Can I not think away my self and dye?

Enter Hubert, Higgen, Prig, Ferret, Snap, Ginks like Boors.

Hub. I like your habits well: they are safe, stand close.

Hig. But what's the action we are for now? Ha! Robbing a Ripper of his Fish.

Prig. Or taking A Poulterer Prisoner, without ransome, Bullyes?

Hig. Or cutting off a Convoy of Butter?

Fer. Or surprizing a Boors ken, for granting cheats!

Prig. Or cackling Cheats?

Hig. Or Mergery-praters, Rogers, And Tibs o'th' Buttery?

Prig. O I could drive a Regiment Of Geese afore me, such a night as this, Ten Leagues with my Hat and Staff, and not a hiss Heard, nor a wing of my Troops disordered.

Hig. Tell us, If it be milling of a lag of duds, The fetching of a back of cloaths or so; We are horribly out of linnen.

Hub. No such matter.

Hig. Let me alone with the Farmers dog, If you have a mind to the cheese-loft; 'tis but thus, And he is a silenc'd Mastiff, during pleasure.

Hub. Would it would please you to be silent.

Hig. Mum.

Woolf. Who's there?

Hub. A friend, the Hunts-man.

Hem. O 'tis he.

Hub. I have kept touch Sir, which is the Earl of these? Will he know a man now?

Hem. This my Lord's the Friend, Hath undertook the service.

Hub. If't be worth His Lordships thanks anon, when 'tis done Lording, I'll look for't, a rude Wood-man, I know how to pitch my toils, drive in my game: And I have don't, both Florez and his Father Old Gerrard, with Lord Arnold of Benthuisen, Cozen, and Jaculin, young Florez's Sister: I have 'em all.

Woolf. Thou speak'st too much, too happy, To carry faith with it.

Hub. I can bring you Where you shall see, and find 'em.

Woolf. We will double What ever Hemskirk then hath promis'd thee.

Hub. And I'll deserve it treble: what horse ha' you?

Woolf. A hundred. That's well: ready to take Upon surprise of 'em.

Hem. Yes.

Hub. Divide then Your force into five Squadrons; for there are So many out-lets, ways through the wood That issue from the place where they are lodg'd: Five several ways, of all which Passages, We must possess our selves, to round 'em in; For by one starting hole they'll all escape else: I and 4. Boors here to me will be guides, The Squadron where you are, my self will lead: And that they may be more secure, I'll use My wonted whoops, and hollows, as I were A hunting for 'em; which will make them rest Careless of any noise, and be a direction To the other guides, how we approach 'em still.

Woolf. 'Tis order'd well, and relisheth the Souldier; Make the division Hemskirk; you are my charge, Fair One, I'll look to you.

Boo. Shall no body need To look to me? I'll look unto my self.

Hub. 'Tis but this, remember.

Hig. Say, 'tis done, Boy. [Exeunt.