Nay, shepherd, reason not with me.
I'll manifest thy fact unto the King, Whose doom will be thy death, as thou deservest.
What ho, Mouse, come away!
[Enter Mouse.]
MOUSE.
Why how now, what's the matter?
I thought you would be calling before I had done.
SEGASTO.
Come, help; away with my friend.
MOUSE.
Why, is he drunk? cannot he stand on his feet?
SEGASTO.
No, he is not drunk, he is slain.
MOUSE.
Flaine? no, by Lady, he is not flaine.
SEGASTO.
He's killed, I tell thee.
MOUSE.
What, do you use to kill your friends?
I will serve you no longer.
SEGASTO.
I tell thee, the shepherd killed him.
MOUSE.
O, did a so? but, master, I will have all his apparel if I carry him away.
SEGASTO.
Why, so thou shalt.
MOUSE.
Come, then, I will help; mas, master, I think his mother song looby to him, he is so heavy.
[Exeunt Segasto and Mouse.}
MUCEDORUS.
Behold the fickle state of man, always mutable, Never at one. Sometimes we feed on fancies With the sweet of our desires; sometimes again We feel the heat of extreme misery.
Now am I in favour about the court and country.
To morrow those favours will turn to frowns:
To day I live revenged on my foe, To morrow I die, my foe revenged on me.
[Exit.]
ACT II. SCENE III. The Forest.
