The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey,
The fields are fragrant and the woods are green:
Uncouple here and let us make a bay
And wake the emperor and his lovely bride
And rouse the prince and ring a hunter's peal,
That all the court may echo with the noise.
Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours,
To attend the emperor's person carefully:
I have been troubled in my sleep this night,
But dawning day new comfort hath inspired.
Many good morrows to your majesty;
Madam, to you as many and as good:
I promised your grace a hunter's peal.

And you have rung it lustily, my lord;
Somewhat too early for new-married ladies.

Lavinia, how say you?

I say, no;
I have been broad awake two hours and more.

Come on, then; horse and chariots let us have,
And to our sport.
Madam, now shall ye see
Our Roman hunting.

I have dogs, my lord,
Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase,
And climb the highest promontory top.

And I have horse will follow where the game
Makes way, and run like swallows o'er the plain.

Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound,
But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground.