3How now, fellow Frolic! 4What, all a mort? Doth this 5sadness become thy madness? What 6though we have lost our way 7in the woods? Yet never hang 8the head, as though thou hadst 9no hope to live till tomorrow, for Fantastic 10and I will warrant thy life tonight for twenty in 11the hundred.

Antic and Fantastic, as I am 13frolic franion, never in all my life was I so 14dead slain. What, to lose our way in the 15wood, without either fire or candle, so 16uncomfortable? O coelum! O terra! O maria! O Neptune!

Why makes thou it so strange, seeing 18Cupid hath led our young master to the fair 19lady, and she is the only saint that he hath sworn 20to serve.

What resteth then but we 22commit him to his wench, and each of us take his 23stand up in a tree, and sing out our ill fortune 24to the tune of "O man in desperation"?

Desperately spoken, fellow Frolic, in 26the dark; but seeing it falls out thus, let us 27rehearse the old proverb:

Hush! A dog in the wood, or a wooden 33dog! O comfortable hearing! I had even as 34lief the chamberlain of the White Horse had 35called me up to bed.

Either hath this trotting cur gone out 37of his circuit, or else are we near some village,

39which should not be far off, for I perceive the 40glimmering of a glow-worm, a candle, or a cat's 41eye, my life for a halfpenny. In the name of 42my own father, be thou ox or ass that 43appearest, tell us what thou art!

What am I? Why, I am Clunch the 45smith. What are you? What make you in my 46territories at this time of the night?

What do we make, dost thou ask? Why, 48we make faces for fear; such as if thy mortal 49eyes could behold, would make thee water the 50long seams of thy side slops, smith.

And in faith, sir, unless your hospitality 52do relieve us, we are like to wander with a 53sorrowful "heigh-ho" among the owlets and 54hobgoblins of the forest. Good Vulcan, for Cupid's 55sake that hath cozened us all, befriend us as 56thou mayest, and command us howsoever, 57wheresoever, whensoever, in whatsoever, for 58ever and ever.

Well, Masters, it seems to me you 60have lost your way in the wood. In 61consideration whereof, if you will go with Clunch to 62his cottage, you shall have house-room and a 63good fire to sit by, although we have no bedding 64to put you in.

O blessed smith, O bountiful Clunch!

For your further entertainment, it 67shall be as it may be, so and so. 68Hear a dog bark.

69Hark! This is Ball, my dog, that bids you all 70welcome in his own language. Come, take heed 71for stumbling on the threshold. Open door, 72Madge; take in guests.

Welcome, Clunch, and good fellows all, that 74come with my good man. For my good man's sake, 75come on, sit down. Here is a piece of cheese and 76a pudding of my own making.

Thanks, Gammer. A good example 78for the wives of our town.

Gammer, thou and thy good man 80sit lovingly together. We come to chat and not 81to eat.

Well, masters, if you will eat 83nothing, take away. Come, what do we to pass 84away the time? Lay a crab in the fire to roast for 85lamb's-wool. What, shall we have a game at 86trump or ruff to drive away the time? How 87say you?

This smith leads a life as 89merry as a king with Madge his wife. Sirrah 90Frolic, I am sure thou art not without some 91round or other; no doubt but Clunch can bear 92his part.

Else think you me ill brought up. 94So set to it when you will.

This sport does well. But methinks, 105Gammer, a merry winter's tale would drive 106away the time trimly. Come, I am sure you are not 107without a score.

I'faith, Gammer, a tale of an hour 109long were as good as an hour's sleep.

Look you, Gammer, of the giant 111and the king's daughter, and I know not what. 112I have seen the day, when I was a little one, you 113might have drawn me a mile after you with 114such a discourse.

Well, since you be so 116importunate, my good man shall fill the pot and get him 117to bed. They that ply their work must keep 118good hours. One of you go lie with him; he 119is a clean-skinned man, I tell you, without either 120spavin or windgall. So I am content to drive 121away the time with an old wives winter's tale.

No better hay in Devonshire. A' my 123word, Gammer, I'll be one of your audience.

And I another, that's flat.

Then must I to bed with the good 126man. Bona nox, Gammer. Good night, Frolic.

Come on, my lad. Thou shalt take 128thy unnatural rest with me.

Yet this vantage shall we have of 131them in the morning, to be ready at the sight 132thereof extempore.

Now this bargain, my masters, 134must I make with you, that you will say "hum" and 135"ha" to my tale, so shall I know you are awake.

Content, Gammer, that will we do.

Once upon a time, there was a 138king, or a lord, or a duke that had a fair 139daughter, the fairest that ever was, as white as snow, 140and as red as blood; and once upon a time, his 141daughter was stolen away, and he sent all his 142men to seek out his daughter, and he sent so 143long that he sent all his men out of his land.

Who dressed his dinner then?

Nay, either hear my tale or 146kiss my tail.

Well said! On with your tale, Gammer.

O Lord, I quite forgot! There 149was a conjurer, and this conjurer could do 150anything, and he turned himself into a great 151dragon and carried the king's daughter away 152in his mouth to a castle that he made of stone, 153and there he kept her I know not how long, till 154at last all the king's men went out so long that 155her two brothers went to seek her. O, I forget: 156she (he, I would say) turned a proper young man 157to a bear in the night and a man in the day, and 158keeps by a cross that parts three several ways, 159and he made his lady run mad. God's me bones! 160Who comes here?