Duke.  How now my Lords, was’t not a gallant course,
Beleeve me sirs, I never saw a wretch,
Make better shift to save her little life. 
The thickets full of buskes,[24] and scratching bryers,
A mightie dewe,[25] a many deepe mouth’d hounds,
Let loose in every place to crosse their course,—­
And yet the Hare got cleanly from them all. 
I would not for a hundred pound in faith,
But that she had escaped with her life;
For we will winde a merry hunters home,
And starte her once again tomorrow morne.

Turq.  In troth my Lord, the little flocked[26] hound,
That had but three good legs to further him,
Twas formost still, and surer of his sent,
Then any one in all the crie besides.

Vesu.  But yet Pendragon gave the Hare more turnes.

Alber.  That was because he was more polliticke,
And eyed her closely in her coverts still: 
They all did well, and once more we will trie,
The subtile creature with a greater crie.

    Enter Allenso, booted.

Duke.  But say, what well accomplished Gentleman Is that that comes into our company?

Vesu.  I know him well, it is Fallerios sonne, Pandynos brother (a kinde Gentleman) That dyed and left his little pretty sonne, Unto his brother’s[27] good direction.

Duke.  Stand close awhile, and overheare his wordes; He seemes much over-gone with passion.

Allen.  Yee timorous thoughts that guide my giddy steps
In unknowne pathes of dreadfull wildernesse,
Why traitor-like do you conspire to holde
My pained heart twixt feare and jealousie? 
My too much care hath brought me carelesly,
Into this woody savadge labyrinth,
And I can finde no way to issue out;
Feare hath so dazeled all my better part,
That reason hath forgot discreations art. 
But in good time, see where is company.—­
Kinde Gentlemen, if you, unlike my selfe,
Are not incumbred with the circling wayes
Of this erronious winding wildernesse,
I pray you to direct me foorth this wood
And showe the pathe that leades to Padua.

Duke.  We all are Paduans, and we all intend To passe forthwith with speed to Padua.

Allen.  I will attend upon you presently. [See the bodyes.

Duke.  Come then away:—­but, gentlemen beholde, A bloody sight, and murtherous spectacle!

2 Mur.  Oh, God, forgive me all my wickednesse And take me to eternall happinesse!

Duke.  Harke one of them hath some small sparke of life, To kindle knowledge of their sad mishaps.

Allen.  Ah gratious Lord, I know this wretched child, And these two men that here lye murthered.

Vesu.  Do you, Allenso?

Allen.  I, my gracious Lord:  It was Pertillo my dead Unckles sonne.  Now have my feares brought forth this fearefull childe Of endlesse care, and everlasting griefe!