Gertrude. What then?
Boor. Nay, nothing. Do not think I am afraid,
Although, perhaps, you are.
Ger. I am not. Forward!
Boor. Sure but you are. Give me your hand; fear nothing.
There's one leg in the wood; do not fall backwards!
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?
Boor. Hark! hark! I beseech you:
Do you hear nothing?
Ger. No.
Boor. 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?
Boor. Oh, now one has me!
Oh my left ham! farewell!