Eust. Ile trie this heart, in hope to finde it true.
Enter certaine Huntsmen and ladies.
Hunts. Widdowe Countesse well ymet,
Euer may thy ioyes bee many,
Gentle Ida faire beset, 1590
Faire and wise, not fairer any:
Frolike Huntsmen of the game,
Willes you well, and giues you greeting.
Ida. Thanks good Woodman for the same,
And our sport and merrie meeting.
Hunts. Vnto thee we do present,
Siluer heart with arrow wounded.
Eust. This doth shadow my lament,
Both feare and loue confounded.
Ladies. To the mother of the mayde, 1600
Faire as th’lillies, red as roses,
Euen so many goods are saide,
As her selfe in heart supposes.
Count. What are you friends, that thus doth wish vs wel?
Hunts. Your neighbours nigh, that haue on hunting beene,
Who vnderstanding of your walking foorth,
Prepare this traine to entertaine you with,
This Ladie Douglas, this Sir Egmond is.
Count. Welcome ye Ladies, and thousand thanks for this,
Come enter you a homely widdowes house, 1610
And if mine entertainment please you let vs feast.