‘What do you want?’ says John.[1]
‘Why, what do you intend to do?’ says the constable.
‘To do,’ says John; ‘what would you have us to do?’
Constable. Why don’t you be gone? What do you stay there for?
John. Why do you stop us on the king’s highway, and pretend to refuse us leave to go on our way?
Constable. We are not bound to tell you our reason, though we did let you know it was because of the plague.
John. We told you we were all sound and free from the plague, which we were not bound to have satisfied you of, and yet you pretend to stop us on the highway.
Constable. We have a right to stop it up, and our own safety obliges us to it. Besides, this is not the king’s highway; ‘tis a way upon sufferance. You see here is a gate, and if we do let people pass here, we make them pay toll.
John. We have a right to seek our own safety as well as you, and you may see we are flying for our lives: and ‘tis very unchristian and unjust to stop us.
Constable. You may go back from whence you came; we do not hinder you from that.