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SCENE XIV.

A Wood. Enter Huntsmen.
HUNTSMENS'
GLEE.
Hark! the sprightly bugle horn,
Loud laughs each milder note to scorn;
Sun beams spangle bright the spear,
And fill the prowling wolf with fear:
While echo counts in tales of mirth,
The crimson'd stains that paint the earth.


18

Enter Connor, displaying his shield, conjures them to join his cause—they swear to assist him, and—
Exeunt.