Chapter 3

Enter Mouse with a bottle of hay.

MOUSE. O horrible, terrible! Was ever poor gentleman so scar’d out of his seven senses? A bear? Nay, sure it cannot be a bear, but some devil in a bear’s doublet; for a bear could never have had that agility to have frighted me. Well, I’ll see my father hanged before I’ll serve his horse any more. Well, I’ll carry home my bottle of hay, and for once make my father’s horse turn Puritan, and observe fasting-days, for he gets not a bit. But soft! this way she followed me; therefore I’ll take the other path, and because I’ll be sure to have an eye on her, I will shake hands with some foolish creditor, and make every step backward.

[_As he goes backwards, the Bear comes in, and he tumbles over her, and runs away, and leaves his bottle of hay behind him_.]