FIRST HUNTSMAN.
Why, Bellman is as good as he, my lord;
He cried upon it at the merest loss,
And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent;
Trust me, I take him for the better dog.
LORD.
Thou art a fool: if Echo were as fleet,
I would esteem him worth a dozen such.
But sup them well, and look unto them all;
To-morrow I intend to hunt again.
FIRST HUNTSMAN.
I will, my lord.
LORD.
[ Sees Sly.] What's here? One dead, or drunk?
See, doth he breathe?
SECOND HUNTSMAN.
He breathes, my lord. Were he not warm'd with ale,
This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly.
LORD.
O monstrous beast! how like a swine he lies!
Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!
Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.
What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,
Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,
A most delicious banquet by his bed,
And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
Would not the beggar then forget himself?
FIRST HUNTSMAN.
Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose.
SECOND HUNTSMAN.
It would seem strange unto him when he wak'd.
