"Why, how now, good master," said he.

"Alas! Thou art in an ill plight.

Marry, thy jerkin is all befouled with the dust of the road.

Let me help thee to arise." "A plague on thy aid!" cried Robin angrily.

"I can get to my feet without thy help, good fellow." "Nay, but let me at least dust thy coat for thee.