Woodc. I had sooner draw in a yoke than hunt in a halter.
Hadst best repent and mend thy ways.
Peas. The way-warden may do that: I wear out no ways, I go across
country. Mend! saith he? Why I can but starve at worst, or groan
with the rheumatism, which you do already. And who would reek and
wallow o' nights in the same straw, like a stalled cow, when he may
have his choice of all the clean holly bushes in the forest? Who
would grub out his life in the same croft, when he has free-warren
of all fields between this and Rhine? Not I. I have dirtied my
share of spades myself; but I slipped my leash and went self-
hunting.
Woodc. But what if thou be caught and brought up before the Prince?
Peas. He don't care for game. He has put down his kennel, and
keeps a tame saint instead: and when I am driven in, I shall ask my
pardon of her in St. John's name. They say that for his sake she'll
give away the shoes off her feet.
Woodc. I would not stand in your shoes for all the top and lop in
the forest. Murder! Here comes a ghost! Run up the bank--shove
the jackass into the ditch.
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