1 Wood. Who shoots?
2 Wood. The Princess.
1 Wood. No she'l Hunt.
2 Wood. She'l take a Stand I say.
1 Wood. Who else?
2 Wood. Why the young stranger Prince.
1 Wood. He shall Shoot in a Stone-bow for me. I never lov'd his beyond-sea-ship, since he forsook the Say, for paying Ten shillings: he was there at the fall of a Deer, and would needs (out of his mightiness) give Ten groats for the Dowcers; marry the Steward would have had the Velvet-head into the bargain, to Turf his Hat withal: I think he should love Venery, he is an old Sir Tristram; for if you be remembred, he forsook the Stagg once, to strike a Rascal Milking in a Medow, and her he kill'd in the eye. Who shoots else?
2 Wood. The Lady Galatea.
1 Wood. That's a good wench, and she would not chide us for tumbling of her women in the Brakes. She's liberal, and by my Bow they say she's honest, and whether that be a fault, I have nothing to do. There's all?
2 Wood. No, one more, Megra.