"Ye deal in treason, rogue; ye trudge the country leasing; y' are heavily suspicioned of the death of severals.

How, fellow, are ye so bold?
But I will bring you down." "Right honourable and my reverend lord," the man cried, "here is some hodge-podge, saving your good presence.

I am but a poor private man, and have hurt none." "The under-sheriff did report of you most vilely," said the knight.
"'Seize me,' saith he, 'that Tyndal of Shoreby.'" "Condall, my good lord; Condall is my poor name," said the unfortunate.
"Condall or Tyndal, it is all one," replied Sir Daniel, coolly.

"For, by my sooth, y' are here and I do mightily suspect your honesty.

If ye would save your neck, write me swiftly an obligation for twenty pound." "For twenty pound, my good lord!" cried Condall.