There is an old tale goes that Herne the Hunter,
 Sometime a keeper here in Windsor Forest,
 Doth all the winter-time, at still midnight,
 Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd horns;
 And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle,
 And makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a chain
 In a most hideous and dreadful manner.
 You have heard of such a spirit, and well you know
 The superstitious idle-headed eld
 Receiv'd, and did deliver to our age,
 This tale of Herne the Hunter for a truth.
 
 "The Merry Wives of Windsor"
 Act 4 Scene 4
 William Shakespeare  
 
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