MOUSE.
An emmet, I never saw such a big emmet in all my life before.
MUCEDORUS.
I tell you, sir, I am a hermit: one
That leads a solitary life within these woods.
MOUSE.
Oh, 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.
MUCEDORUS.
Thou dost mistake me, but I pray thee, tell me
What dost thou seek for in these woods?
MOUSE.
What do I seek for? A stray king’s-daughter run away with a shepherd.
MUCEDORUS.
A stray king’s-daughter run away with a shepherd?
Wherefore? Canst thou tell?
MOUSE.
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 ran away, and Amadine crying after him: now, sir, comes me a shepherd, and 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 and feet, and I’ll kill them all. Now, ever since, Amadine hath been in love with the shepherd, and for goodwill, she’s even run away with the shepherd.
MUCEDORUS.
What manner of man was he? Canst thou describe him unto me?
MOUSE.
Scribe him? Ay, 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 cloth.
MUCEDORUS.
Thou describest him well; but if I chance to see any such, pray you, where shall I find you, or what’s your name?