_Clown_. A packe of the bravest _Spartan_ Dogges in the world; if they do but once open and spend[151] there gabble, gabble, gabble it will make the Forest ecchoe as if a Ring of Bells were in it; admirably flewd[152], by their eares you would take 'em to be singing boyes; and for Dewlaps they are as bigge as Vintners bags in which they straine Ipocras. _Omnes_. There, boy. _Clown_. And hunt so close and so round together that you may cover 'em all with a sheete. 2 _Hunt_. If it be wide enough. _Clown_. Why, as wide as some four or five Acres, that's all. 1 _Hunt_. And what's the game to day? _Clown_. The wilde Boare. 1 _Hunt_. Which of 'em? the greatest? I have not seene him. _Clown_. Not seene him? he is as big as an Elephant. 2 _Hunt_. Now will he build a whole Castle full of lies. _Clown_. Not seen him? I have. _Omnes_. No, no; seene him? as big as an Elephant? _Clown_. The backe of him is as broad--let me see--as a pretty Lighter. 1 _Hun_. A Lighter? _Clown_. Yes; and what do you think the Brissells are worth? 2 _Hunt_. Nothing. _Clown_. Nothing? one Shoemaker offer'd to finde me and the Heire-male of my body 22 yeeres, but to have them for his owne ends. 2 _Hunt_. He would put Sparabiles[153] into the soales then? _Clown_. Not a Bill, not a Sparrow. The Boares head is so huge that a Vintner but drawing that picture and hanging it up for a Signe it fell down and broke him. 1 _Hunt_. Oh horrible! _Clown_. He has two stones so bigge, let me see (a Poxe), thy head is but a Cherry-stone to the least of' em. 2 _Hunt_. How long are his Tuskes? _Clown_. Each of them as crooked and as long as a Mowers sith. 1 _Hunt_. There's a Cutter. _Clown_. And when he whets his Tuskes you would sweare there were a sea in's belly, and that his chops were the shore to which the Foame was beaten: if his Foame were frothy Yest 'twere worth tenne groats a paile for Bakers. 1 _Hunt_. What will the King do with him if he kill him? _Clown_. Bake him, and if they put him in one Pasty a new Oven must be made, with a mouth as wide as the gates of the City. (_Horne_.) _Omnes_. There boy, there boy. _Hornes and Noise within: Enter Antony meeting Damianus_. _Ant_. _Cosmo_ had like beene kild; the Boare receiving[154] A Speare full in the Flanke from _Cosmo's_ hand, Foaming with rage he ranne at him, unhorst him And had, but that he fell behinde an Oake Of admirable greatnesse, torne out his bowels; His very Tuskes, striking into the tree, Made the old Champion[155] shake. [_Enter Cosmo_. _Dam_. Where are the Dogges? _Cosmo_. No matter for the Curres: I scapt well, but cannot finde the King. _Anton_. When did you see him? _Cosmo_. Not since the Boare tos'd up Both horse and rider. _Enter Epidophorus and all the Huntsmen in a hurry_. _Epi_. A Liter for the King; the King is hurt. _Ant_. How?