"Bodikins and blunderkins? hear'st him, Dan? Why, thou lying lackpenny, I'll soon whack the corruption out o' thee. Master Anthony, indeed! he be another guess sort of thing to thee, I trow. Thee be'st hankering after the good things hereabout; but I'll spoil thy liquorish tooth for tasting. Come, unkennel, vermin!"
"I am Master Anthony, friend, as safe as my mother bore me. If thou lackest knowledge, go ask Hodge with the horses at the back gate."
"Then what be'st thou for i' the pear-tree? Na, na; Master Anthony is gone home a great whiles back. He's to marry young mistress i' the morn, an' we're getting drunk by participation. There's for thee! I talks like ou'd Daniel the schoolmaster."
Sorely discomposed with the infliction of this vile contumely, Anthony was forced to descend. Nothing, however, would convince the clowns of their mistake. He showed them his glossy raiment; but their intellects were too confused for so nice a discrimination; they consequently resolved to hold him in durance until the morrow, when their master would bring him to account for this invasion of his territory. But who shall depict the horror and consternation of the unhappy lover, on finding them seriously bent on his incarceration in a filthy den, used heretofore as a receptacle for scraps and lumber, near the stables. Remonstrance, entreaty, threats, solicitations, were equally unavailing. He demanded an audience with the justice.
"Thee'll get it soon enough, I warrant thee. And thee may think well o' the stocks; but th' pillory is no more than I'll be bound for. The last we catched, Jem Sludge, we belaboured in such fashion as I verily think he waur more like a midden' nor a man when he got his neck out o' th' collar. Come along—it's not to th' gallows, this bout, my pretty bird. Lend him a whack behind, Dan, if he do not mend his pace."
A rude blow was here administered to the unfortunate captive. He cried out lustily for help; but the inquirers from the hall made merry at his captivity, rejoicing that the thief was now safely in the trap.
On the following morning, the eventful day of his daughter's bridal, the justice rose earlier than he was wont. His features wore a tinge of anxiety as he paced the room with sharp and irregular footsteps. Suddenly he was disturbed by approaching voices, and a sort of suppressed bustle along the passage. On opening the door he saw Daniel and his doughty companion, Barnaby, whose red eyes and hollow cheeks betokened their too familiar indulgence in past festivities.
"We've catched him at last, master."
"Who? What dost stand agape for?"
"Why, a rogue 'at was robbing the gardens."