_Bus_. Faythe, seemd to speake, but utterd nothynge.

_Elde_. Why that exprest hym bravelye.

_Gan_. A thynks me fallinge & avoyds my swindge
Least I should fall on hym, nor helps me forwarde
To dryve away the feare of douted ruyne.
Even thus doe beasts avoyde the shaken tree
And browze uppon the twygs that gave them shelter.
Myce be more sotyable; they keepe the house
Tyll everye roome be fyerd about theire eares,
But frends will vanyshe at reporte of daunger.
Where shall I fyxe my trust? My woes are nowe
Beyond my synns, yet Ile nor bend nor bowe.

[_Exeunt_.



[SCENE 3.]


_Enter Orlando, Reinaldo, Oliver_.


_Orl_. Pray, thee, good coosse, perswade not my beleife;
I cannot stoope[97] the harte of _Ganelon_.
My crosse unhappye fortune hathe decreed
A never shalbe conquerd; any ells,
Should a but vowe to conquer 50 worlds,