What news, fair Lady, as you walk these woods.

AMADINE.

Ah, hermit, none but bad & such as thou knowest.

MUCEDORUS.

How do you like your Bremo and his woods?

AMADINE.

Not my Bremo nor Bremo his woods.

MUCEDORUS.

And why not yours? me thinks he loves you well.

AMADINE.

I like him not, his love to me is nothing worth.

MUCEDORUS.

Lady, in this me thinks you offer wrong, To hate the man that ever loves you best.

AMADINE.

Ah hermit, I take no pleasure in his love;

Neither yet doth Bremo like me best.

MUCEDORUS.

Pardon my boldness, fair lady: sith we both May safely talk now out of Bremo's sight, Unfold to me, if so you please, the full discourse How, when, and why you came into these woods, And fell into this bloody butcher's hands.

AMADINE.

Hermit, I will;

Of late a worthy shepherd I did love.

MUCEDORUS.

A shepherd, lady? sure a man unfit To match with you.

AMADINE.

Hermit, this is true, and when we had--

MUCEDORUS.

Stay there, the wild man comes.

Refer the rest until another time.

[Enter Bremo.]

BREMO.

What secret tale is this? what whispering have we here?

Villain, I charge thee tell thy tale again.

MUCEDORUS.

If needs I must, lo, here it is again: