A strange kind of howling is heard—Orson presents himself with an animal in his grasp, which he has just slain—a faint roar is heard of the old Bear—Orson expresses satisfaction, intimating he has got food for her. The Bear enters—Orson shews her the food, and in a playful manner, follows her into the cave.
Valentine enters, followed at cautious distance by Hugo, who puts down a basket containing some cordage, fruits, and a flask, and seems very anxious to be dismissed—Valentine, in dumb shew, charges him with a token for Eglantine and the King, and recommending himself to heaven, takes his way into the thicket.
Hugo, being left alone, seems terrified, and as much afraid to go back, as to follow Valentine—looks warily about him, hears a noise, and runs to the cave for shelter—a roar is heard from the cave, Hugo instantly returns running, most whimsically terrified, and pursued by Orson—Hugo throws his cloak at the wild man, and while he is tearing it to pieces, Hugo runs off—Orson throws down the cloak, and doubly enraged by the escape of his intended victim, follows.
Valentine re-enters, cannot find the wild man—sees Hugo's cloak, laments his supposed death, and mounts a tree to look out for his enemy.
Orson re-enters, and expresses disappointment at not having overtaken Hugo—as he approaches the tree where Valentine is, Valentine plucks a branch, and throws it at him—Orson looks up with astonishment, chatters uncouthly to Valentine, throws the branch back to him, and beckons him to come down—Valentine hesitates—Orson enraged, immediately ascends the tree—and while he is climbing up one side, Valentine gets down on the other, and in turn beckons his opponent.—Orson makes but one jump from the tree to the ground—runs to Valentine, who opposes his polished shield—Orson seeing his own figure reflected in it, suddenly starts back—Valentine, with his sword drawn, keeps Orson at bay, and leads him round the stage, still wondering at the figure he sees.—Orson at length struggles for the shield, takes it from Valentine, and throws it away—Valentine has another shield at his back, which he immediately uses, slightly wounds Orson with the point of his sword, at which he, enraged, looks round for a weapon, pulls up a young tree by the roots, and uses it as a club.
A fierce combat ensues—Valentine, by his lightness and activity, escapes many dreadful blows, aimed at him by Orson.—They stand to breathe awhile, when the Bear suddenly totters from the cave—Valentine, at the moment she opens her mouth, presents his sword in the attitude of thrusting it down her throat—Orson, as if instinctively apprised of the danger of his foster-mother, drops his club, and seems to implore mercy for the old and feeble Bear—Valentine retires, the Bear follows—Orson recovers his club, and is about to attack Valentine, when the latter cuts Orson's hand—the club falls, and Valentine is once more attacking the Bear, when Orson supplicates—Valentine suddenly throws a cord round Orson's hands, and bids him follow him—Valentine holding the other end of the cord.—Orson looks at the Bear, and then at Valentine, who throws him fruit—he gives it to the Bear—Valentine gives him wine from a flask, he tastes it, likes it, and gives some to the Bear, who seems half strangled with it, and totters towards the cave.
Valentine again bids Orson follow him—Orson suddenly snaps the cord, and follows the Bear—the Bear unable to reach the cave, drops with a faint roar, and dies, as if from old age.
Orson shakes her, puts the food and bottle by her, throws himself on the ground, and seems to weep.
Valentine ventures to caress him—Orson turns short on him, snatches at his sword by the blade, and again cuts his fingers—resumes his club, but throws it down again on seeing the dead Bear.—Valentine caresses Orson again (still keeping on his guard), Orson seeing Valentine's attention to himself and the Bear, seems pleased and overcome by it—presents Valentine with one end of the cord, and holding the other, suffers himself to be led off, looking back from time to time, at the dead Bear, and making an uncouth and mournful kind of lamentation.