JOHN
You talk too much!
This whippet, here, slinks at his heel, you say.
Mercy may close her eyes, then. Take him off,
Blind him or what you will; and let him thank
His master for it. But wait—perhaps he knows
Where we may trap this young patrician thief.
Where is your master?
SERF
Where you'll never find him.
JOHN
Oh, ho! the dog is faithful! Take him away.
Get your red business done, I shall require
Your men to ride with me.
SHERIFF
[To his men.]
Take him out yonder,
A bow-shot into the wood, so that his clamour
Do not offend my lord. Delay no time,
The irons are hot by this. They'll give you light
Enough to blind him by.
SERF