HAMMON

God save you, fair ladies.

SYBIL ‘Ladies’! O gross!

WARNER

Came not a buck this way?

ROSE No, but two does.

HAMMON

And which way went they? Faith, we’ll hunt at those.

SYBIL

At those? Upon some, no! When, can you tell?

15

WARNER

Upon some, ay!

SYBIL Good Lord!

WARNER ’Wounds, then farewell.

HAMMON

Boy, which way went he?

BOY This way, sir, he ran.

HAMMON

This way he ran indeed. Fair Mistress Rose,

Our game was lately in your orchard seen.

WARNER

Can you advise which way he took his flight?

20

SYBIL

Follow your nose, his horns will guide you right.

WARNER

Thou’rt a mad wench.

SYBIL O, rich!

ROSE Trust me, not I.

It is not like the wild forest deer

Would come so near to places of resort.

You are deceived: he fled some other way.

25

WARNER

Which way, my sugar-candy – can you show?

SYBIL

Come up, good honey-sops; upon some, no!

ROSE

Why do you stay, and not pursue your game?

SYBIL

I’ll hold my life their hunting nags be lame.

HAMMON

A deer more dear is found within this place.

30

ROSE

But not the deer, sir, which you had in chase.

HAMMON

I chased the deer; but this dear chaseth me.

ROSE

The strangest hunting that ever I see.

But where’s your park? She offers to go away

HAMMON ’Tis here – O, stay!

ROSE

Impale me, and then I will not stray.

35

WARNER

They wrangle, wench: we are more kind than they.

SYBIL

What kind of hart is that dear hart you seek?

WARNER

A heart, dear heart.

SYBIL Whoever saw the like?

ROSE

To lose your hart, is’t possible you can?

HAMMON

My heart is lost.

ROSE Alack, good gentleman.

40

HAMMON

This poor lost heart would I wish you might find.

ROSE

You by such luck might prove your hart a hind.

HAMMON

Why, luck had horns, so have I heard some say.

ROSE

Now God, an’t be his will, send luck into your way!

OATLEY

What, Master Hammon – welcome to Old Ford!

45

SYBIL

[To Warner] God’s pitikins, hands off, sir! – here’s my lord.

OATLEY

I hear you had ill luck, and lost your game.

HAMMON

’Tis true, my lord.

OATLEY I am sorry for the same.

What gentleman is this?

HAMMON My brother-in-law.

OATLEY

You’re welcome both; sith Fortune offers you

50

Into my hands, you shall not part from hence

Until you have refreshed your wearied limbs.

Go, Sybil, cover the board. You shall be guest

To no good cheer, but even a hunter’s feast.

HAMMON

I thank your lordship. [Aside to WARNER] Cousin, on my life,

55

For our lost venison I shall find a wife.

OATLEY

In, gentlemen. I’ll not be absent long.

This Hammon is a proper gentleman,

A citizen by birth, fairly allied.

How fit an husband were he for my girl!

60

Well, I will in, and do the best I can

To match my daughter to this gentleman. Exit