Act IV. Scene II. The Forest.

[Enter Mucedorus to disguise himself.]

Now, Mucedorus, whither wilt thou go?
Home to thy father, to thy native soil,
Or try some long abode within these woods?
Well, I will hence depart and hie me home.--
What, hie me home, said? that may not be;
In Amadine rests my felicity.
Then, Mucedorus, do as thou didst decree:
Attire thee hermit like within these groves,
Walk often to the beach and view the well,
Makes settles there and seat thy self thereon,
And when thou feelest thy self to be a thirst,
Then drink a hearty draught to Amadine.
No doubt she thinks on thee,
And will one day come pledge thee at this well.
Come, habit, thou art fit for me:

[He disguiseth himself.]

No shepherd now, a hermit I must be.
Me thinks this fits me very well;
Now must I learn to bear a walking staff,
And exercise some gravity withall.

[Enter the Clown.]

Here's throw the wods, and throw the wods, to
look out a shepherd & a stray king's daughter:
but soft, who have we here? what art thou?

I am a hermit.

An emmet? I never saw such a big emmet in
all my life before.

I tell you, sir, I am an hermit, one that leads a
solitary life within these woods.

O, I know thee now, thou art he that eats up all
the hips and haws; we could not have one piece
of fat bacon for thee all this year.

Thou dost mistake me; but I pray thee, tell me
what dost thou seek in these woods?

What do I seek? for a stray King's daughter run
away with a shepherd.

A stray King's daughter run away with a shepherd.
Wherefore? canst thou tell?

Yes, that I can; tis this: my master and Amadine,
walking one day abroad, nearer to these woods
than they were used--about what I can not tell--but
toward them comes running a great bear. Now my
master, he played the man and run away, & Amadine
crying after him: now, sir, comes me a shepherd &
strikes off the bear's head. Now whether the bear
were dead before or no I cannot tell, for bring twenty
bears before me and bind their hands & feet and I'll
kill them all:--now ever since Amadine hath been in
love with the shepherd, and for good will she's even
run away with the shepherd.

What manner of man was a? canst describe him unto me?

Scribe him? aye, I warrant you, that I can: a was a
little, low, broad, tall, narrow, big, well favoured
fellow, a jerkin of white cloth, and buttons of the same

Thou describest him well, but if I chance to see any
such, pray you, where shall I find you, or what's your

My name is called master mouse.

Oh, master mouse, I pray you what office might you
bear in the court?

Marry, sir, I am a rusher of the stable.

O, usher of the table.

Nay, I say rusher and I'll prove mine office good; for
look, sir, when any comes from under the sea or so,
and a dog chance to blow his nose backward, then with
a whip I give him the good time of the day, and straw
rushes presently: therefore, I am a rusher, a high office,
I promise ye.

But where shall I find you in the Court?

Why, where it is best being, either in the kitchen a
eating or in the buttery drinking: but if you come, I
will provide for thee a piece of beef & brewis knockle
deep in fat; pray you, take pains, remember master


Aye, sir, I warrant I will not forget you. Ah, Amadine,
What should become of thee?
Whither shouldst thou go so long unknown?
With watch and ward each passage is beset,
So that she cannot long escape unknown.
Doubtless she hath lost her self within these woods
And wandring to and fro she seeks the well,
Which yet she cannot find; therefore will I seek her out.

Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.