The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - Israel Gollancz William Shakespeare [1985]
So cowardly to save himself by flight:
And leave so brave a princess to the spoil.
AMADINE.
Well, shepherd, for thy worthy valour tried,
Endangering thy self to set me free,
Unrecompensed, sure, thou shalt not be.
In court thy courage shall be plainly known:
Throughout the Kingdom will I spread thy name,
To thy renown and never dying fame:
And that thy courage may be better known,
Bear thou the head of this most monstrous beast
In open sight to every courtiers view:
So will the king my father thee reward.
Come, let's away, and guard me to the court.
MUCEDORUS.
With all my heart.
[Exeunt.]
ACT I. SCENE IV. Outskirts of the Forest.
[Enter Segasto solus.]
SEGASTO.
When heaps of harms to hover over head,
Tis time as then, some say, to look about,
And of ensuing harms to choose the least:
But hard, yea hapless, is that wretches chance,
Luckless his lot and caytiffe like acourste,
At whose proceedings fortune ever frowns.
My self I mean, most subject unto thrall,
For I, the more I seek to shun the worst,
The more by proof I find myself accurst:
Ere whiles assaulted with an ugly bear,
Fair Amadine in company all alone,
Forthwith by flight I thought to save my self,
Leaving my Amadine unto her shifts:
For death it was for to resist the bear,
And death no less of Amadine's harms to hear.
Accursed I in lingering life thus long!
In living thus, each minute of an hour
Doth pierce my heart with darts of thousand deaths:
If she by flight her fury do escape,
What will she think?
Will she not say—yea, flatly to my face,
Accusing me of mere disloyalty—
A trusty friend is tried in time of need,
But I, when she in danger was of death
And needed me, and cried, Segasto, help:
I turned my back and quickly ran away.
Unworthy I to bear this vital breath!
But what! what needs these plaints?
If Amadine do live, then happy I;
She will in time forgive and so forget:
Amadine is merciful, not Juno like,
In harmful heart to harbor hatred long.
[Enter Mouse, the Clown, running, crying: clubs.]
MOUSE.
Clubs, prongs, pitchforks, bills! O help! a bear, a bear, a bear, a bear!
SEGASTO.
Still bears, and nothing else but bears. Tell me, sirrah, where she is.
MOUSE.
O sir, she is run down the woods: I see her white head and her white belly.
SEGASTO.
Thou talkest of wonders, to tell me of white bears.
But, sirra, didst thou ever see any such?
MOUSE.
No, faith, I never saw any such, but I remember my father's words: he bade me take heed I was not caught with a white bear.
SEGASTO.
A lamentable tale, no doubt.
MOUSE.
I tell you what, sir, as I was going a field to serve my father's great horse, & carried a bottle of hay upon my head—now do you see, sir—I, fast hoodwinked, that I could see nothing, perceiving the bear coming, I threw my hay into the hedge and ran away.
SEGASTO.
What, from nothing?
MOUSE.
I warrant you, yes, I saw something, for there was two load of thorns besides my bottle of hay, and that made three.
SEGASTO.
But tell me, sirra, the bear that thou didst see,
Did she not bear a bucket on her arm?
MOUSE.
Ha, ha, ha! I never saw bear go a milking in my life. But hark you, sir, I did not look so high as her arm: I saw nothing but her white head, and her white belly.
SEGASTO.
But tell me, sirra, where dost thou dwell?
MOUSE.
Why, do you not know me?
SEGASTO.
Why no, how should I know thee?
MOUSE.
Why, then, you know no body, and you know not me. I tell you, sir, I am the goodman rats son of the next parish over the hill.
SEGASTO.
Goodman rats son: why, what's thy name?
MOUSE.
Why, I am very near kin unto him.
SEGASTO.
I think so, but what's thy name?
MOUSE.
My name? I have a very pretty name; I'll tell you what my name is: my name is Mouse.
SEGASTO.
What, plain Mouse?
MOUSE.
Aye, plain mouse with out either welt or guard. But do you hear, sir, I am but a very young mouse, for my tail is scarce grown out yet; look you here else.
SEGASTO.
But, I pray thee, who gave thee that name?
MOUSE.
Faith, sir, I know not that, but if you would