SECOND FRIEND. But there be new conditions, which you’ll hear of At better time. JAILER. I hope they are good. SECOND FRIEND. They are honourable; How good they’ll prove, I know not. FIRST FRIEND. ’Twill be known. Enter Wooer. WOOER. Alas, sir, where’s your daughter? JAILER. Why do you ask? WOOER. O, sir, when did you see her? SECOND FRIEND. How he looks? JAILER. This morning. WOOER. Was she well? Was she in health, sir? When did she sleep? FIRST FRIEND. These are strange questions. JAILER. I do not think she was very well, for now You make me mind her, but this very day I asked her questions, and she answered me So far from what she was, so childishly, So sillily, as if she were a fool, An innocent, and I was very angry. But what of her, sir? WOOER. Nothing but my pity. But you must know it, and as good by me As by another that less loves her. JAILER. Well, sir? FIRST FRIEND. Not right? SECOND FRIEND. Not well? WOOER. No, sir, not well: ’Tis too true, she is mad. FIRST FRIEND. It cannot be. WOOER. Believe, you’ll find it so. JAILER. I half suspected What you have told me. The gods comfort her! Either this was her love to Palamon, Or fear of my miscarrying on his ’scape, Or both. WOOER. ’Tis likely. JAILER. But why all this haste, sir? WOOER. I’ll tell you quickly. As I late was angling In the great lake that lies behind the palace, From the far shore, thick set with reeds and sedges, As patiently I was attending sport, I heard a voice, a shrill one; and, attentive, I gave my ear, when I might well perceive ’Twas one that sung, and by the smallness of it A boy or woman. I then left my angle To his own skill, came near, but yet perceived not Who made the sound, the rushes and the reeds Had so encompassed it. I laid me down And listened to the words she sung, for then, Through a small glade cut by the fishermen, I saw it was your daughter. JAILER. Pray, go on, sir. WOOER. She sung much, but no sense; only I heard her Repeat this often: “Palamon is gone, Is gone to th’ wood to gather mulberries; I’ll find him out tomorrow.” FIRST FRIEND. Pretty soul!