University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Another part of the Forest.
A Deer lying, with an arrow stuck in its side.
Enter Badenoch and Crawford, from opposite sides.
Cra.
Thy boasted skill has lagg'd behind to-day
Brag of thy archery now; thou wert more near
Than I was by a third.

Bad.
Well, what of that? I slew the deer.

Cra.
You! You slew the deer!

Bad.
Certes I did, my lord: I slew the deer;
And will maintain it.—Who is't says I did not?

Cra.
Such insolence was never paralleled!—
Well, to confute thee, view the shaft; its length
Will prove it mine.

(Badenoch pulls out the Arrow, and breaks it in pieces.)
Bad.
The shaft is mine, 'tis plain; and shall not be
Bone of contention 'twixt us. (Waving his sword.)
I'll maintain
My word 'gainst any he that dares deny it.

Cra.
Presumptuous, paltry thing! art thou aware
Whom thus thou beardest! O, were thy shallow might
But worthy of my sword, how I would blast
And mildew thy rank flesh!—

(They fight.)
Bad.
My lord, I say; my lord!
(Crawford gains upon him, driving him round the stage.)
Hold, my good lord!—My lord, I say!

Cra.
Nay, keep thy fence; trust me, thou scap'st not thus.

Enter Garnet, who rushes between them, striking up their Swords.
Gar.
Damnation on thy frenzy!—Madmen! fools!
Why this infuriate strife?—Hold off, I say.

Cra.
Stand back, Glen-Garnet; thou shalt witness be
How I will gall this braggart.

Gar.
Knowest thou, sir, whom thou gallest?
Or knowest thou me?

Cra.
No, faith, I do not; yet thee I honour, Garnet,
And often think, that I have elsewhere seen
That warrior form, by other name or title.

Gar.
Yes, thou hast seen me, where—

(Badenoch stops him.)
Bad.
Hold, on thy life!—Thy honour, every pledge
That manhood claims, front thee in stern array,
And beckon thee to silence.—Sooth, my lord,
'Twas but a jest; a banter: Nought I meant
Of insult or of strife.—The shaft was yours:—
I'll claim it still; swear it was mine; outface you;
You shall not gain the honour of that hit,
Do as you will. Have with you for the next.

(Exeunt Badenoch and Garnet.)
Cra.
So! I am baulk'd again, and my revenge
Turn'd on me for a foil!—That surkle lord
Will learn to know his betters: he had nigh
Paid dearly for his jest.—My mind is weary
Forming conjectures who these strangers are.
By what dropt from Glen-Garnet, it is plain
That they are men of note. Then, too, 'tis plain,
Their motions point to ill—else why disguised?
I'll to the Cave of Merlin: He'll unfold,
In riddles and in rhymes, each guest's degree,
And all th'events that on their purpose hang.