As e'er the hunted deer a covert——

Gab.‍Or

The wounded lion his cool cave. Methinks

You rather look like one would turn at bay,

And rip the hunter's entrails.

Wer.‍Ah!

Gab.‍I care not

If it be so, being much disposed to do10

The same myself. But will you shelter me?

I am oppressed like you—and poor like you—