"Hath he good friends, said ye?"
"None of note."
"What then is his father?"
"The wool-comber who dwells in Henley Street."
"Enough! Now let us but catch him, and by 'r lady, we'll beat him so that he shall scarce disport his curiosity amongst our woods again."
"Nay, but if we kill him?" said the other, with a sneer.
"Then must our master bear us out; we are hired to keep off all lurking knaves. By fair means or foul, it must be done. An we kill him, we'll e'en knock over a buck, and lay it to's charge. Swear we caught him red-handed in the fact, and there an end."