_Bo._ List: a wild Hog, He grunts: now 'tis a Bear: this wood is full of 'em, And now, a Wolf, Mistress, a Wolf, a Wolf, It is the howling of a Wolf. _Ger._ The braying of an Ass, is it not? _Bo._ Oh, now one has me; Oh my left haunch, farewel. _Ger._ Look to your Shanks, Your Breech is safe enough, the Wolf's a Fern-brake. _Bo._ But see, see, see, there is a Serpent in it; It has eyes as broad as Platters; it spits fire; Now it creeps towards us, help me to say my Prayers: It hath swallowed me almost, my breath is stopt; I cannot speak: do I speak Mistress? tell me. _Ger._ Why, thou strange timerous Sot, canst thou perceive Any thing i'th' Bush but a poor Glo-worm? _Bo._ It may be 'tis but a Glo-worm now, but 'twill Grow to a Fire-drake presently. _Ger._ Come thou from it: I have a precious guide of you, and a courteous, That gives me leave to lead my self the way thus. _Bo._ It thunders, you hear that now? _Ger._ I hear one hollow. _Bo._ 'Tis thunder, thunder: See, a Flash of Lightning: Are you not blasted Mistress? pull your Mask off, It has plaid the Barber with me here: I have lost My Beard, my Beard, pray God you be not shaven, 'Twill spoil your Marriage Mistress. _Ger._ What strange Wonders Fear fancies in a Coward! _Bo._ Now the Earth opens. _Ger._ Prithee hold thy peace. _Bo._ Will you on then? _Ger._ Both love and jealousie have made me bold, Where my Fate leads me, I must go. [_Exit._ _Bo._ God be with you then. _Enter_ Woolfort, Hemskirk, _and_ Attendants. _Hem._ It was the Fellow sure, he that should guide me, The Hunts-man that did hollow us. _Woolf._ Best make a stand, And listen to his next: Ha! _Hem._ Who goes there? _Bo._ Mistress, I am taken. _Hem._ Mistress? Look forth Souldiers. _Woolf._ What are you Sirrah? _Bo._ Truly all is left Of a poor Boor, by day-light, by night no body, You might have spar'd your Drum, and Guns, and Pikes too For I am none that will stand out Sir, I. You may take me in with a walking Stick, Even when you please, and hold me with a packthred. _Hem._ What woman was't you call'd to? _Bo._ Woman! none Sir. _Woolf._ None! did you not name Mistress? _Bo._ Yes, but she's No woman yet: she should have been this night, But that a Beggar stole away her Bridegroom, Whom we were going to make hue and cry after; I tell you true Sir, she should ha' been married to day; And was the Bride and all; but in came _Clause_, The old lame Beggar, and whips up Mr _Goswin_ Under his arm; away with him as a Kite, Or an old Fox would swoop away a Gosling. _Hem._ 'Tis she, 'tis she, 'tis she: Niece? _Ger._ Ha! _Hem._ She Sir, This was a noble entrance to your fortune, That being on the point thus to be married, Upon her venture here, you should surprise her. _Woolf._ I begin, _Hemskirk,_ to believe my fate, Works to my ends.