The queen, my mother, has decreed a trial
Of shooting in his honour; and the axes
Ye ask of, are the mark. She gives the prize:
The which, with the conditions of the contest,
She shall herself proclaim. Until she comes,
Sit ye in peace.
Ctes.Tell us what prize, I pray.
Tel. Beseech you, await.
Eur.Be seated, lords, be seated!
Wooers (sitting). Can you explain? I am in the dark