LADY. Yes, tyrant-like thou lov'st to see lives die.
SIR RALPH. Lady, no more: I do not like this luck,
To hunt all day, and yet not kill a buck.
Well, it is late; but yet I swear I will
Stay here all night, but I a buck will kill.
LADY. All night! nay, good Sir Ralph Smith, do not so.
SIR RALPH. Content ye, lady. Will, go fetch my bow:
A berry[310] of fair roes I saw to-day
Down by the groves, and there I'll take my[311] stand,
And shoot at one—God send a lucky hand!
LADY. Will ye not, then, Sir Ralph, go home with me?
SIR RALPH. No, but my men shall bear thee company.—
Sirs, man her home. Will, bid the huntsmen couple,
And bid them well reward their hounds to-night.—
Lady, farewell. Will, haste ye with the bow;
I'll stay for thee here by the grove below.
WILL. I will; but 'twill be dark, I shall not see:
How shall I see ye, then?
SIR RALPH. Why, halloo to me, and I will answer thee.
WILL. Enough, I will.
SIR RALPH. Farewell.
[Exit.