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Enter JAQUES, Lords, and Foresters
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Which is he that killed the deer?
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Sir, it was I.
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Let's present him to the duke, like a Roman
conqueror; and it would do well to set the deer's
horns upon his head, for a branch of victory. Have
you no song, forester, for this purpose?
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Yes, sir.
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Sing it: 'tis no matter how it be in tune, so it
make noise enough.
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SONG.
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What shall he have that kill'd the deer?
His leather skin and horns to wear.
Then sing him home;
The rest shall bear this burden
Take thou no scorn to wear the horn;
It was a crest ere thou wast born:
Thy father's father wore it,
And thy father bore it:
The horn, the horn, the lusty horn
Is not a thing to laugh to scorn.
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Exeunt