Enter Jaques, Lords, and Foresters
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?
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.