MUCEDORUS. Thou describest him well; but if I chance to see any such, pray you, where shall I find you, or what’s your name? MOUSE. My name is called Master Mouse. MUCEDORUS. O Master Mouse, I pray you what office might you bear in the court? MOUSE. Marry, sir, I am a rusher of the stable. MUCEDORUS. Oh, usher of the table. MOUSE. Nay, I say rusher, and I’ll prove my office good; for look, sir, when any comes from under the sea or so, and a dog chance to blow his nose backward, then with a whip I give him the good time of the day, and strow rushes presently. Therefore, I am a rusher, a high office, I promise ye. MUCEDORUS. But where shall I find you in the court? MOUSE. Why, where it is best being, either in the kitchen eating, or in the buttery drinking. But if you come, I will provide for thee a piece of beef and brewis knuckle-deep in fat; pray you, take pains, remember Master Mouse. [_Exit._] MUCEDORUS. Ay, sir, I warrant I will not forget you. Ah, Amadine! What should become of thee? Whither shouldst thou go so long unknown? With watch and ward each passage is beset, So that she cannot long escape unknown. Doubtless she’s lost herself within these woods, And wand’ring to and fro she seeks the well, Which yet she cannot find; therefore I’ll seek her out. [_Exit._] SCENE III. The same Enter Bremo and Amadine. BREMO. Amadine, how like you Bremo and his woods? AMADINE. As like the woods of Bremo’s cruelty. Though I were dumb, and could not answer him, The beasts themselves would with relenting tears Bewail thy savage and unhumane deeds. BREMO. My love, why dost thou murmur to thyself? Speak louder, for thy Bremo hears thee not. AMADINE. My Bremo? No, the shepherd is my love. BREMO. Have I not saved thee from sudden death, Giving thee leave to live, that thou mightst love, And dost thou whet me on to cruelty? Come, kiss me, sweet, for all my favours past. AMADINE. I may not, Bremo, and therefore pardon me. BREMO. See, how she flies away from me! I’ll follow And give attent to her. Deny my love! [_Aside_.] Ah, worm of beauty, I will chastice thee! Come, come, prepare thy head upon the block. AMADINE. Oh, spare me, Bremo, love should limit life, Not to be made a murderer of himself. If thou wilt glut thy loving heart with blood, Encounter with the lion or the bear, And like a wolf, prey not upon a lamb. BREMO. Why, then, dost thou repine at me? If thou wilt love me, thou shalt be my queen, I will crown thee with a chaplet made of ivy, And make the rose and lily wait on thee. I’ll rend the burly branches from the oak, To shadow thee from burning sun. The trees shall spread themselves where thou dost go, And as they spread, I’ll trace along with thee. AMADINE. [_Aside_.] You may, for who but you?