1st Farm. What! Gil Perez! you!
When the whole country’s after you?
Gil. And if they catch me nobody’s the worse
Except myself. But till they catch and kill me,
(When I shall want, you know, no more to live on,)
I’ve not a stiver; clipt of the estate
Whose price you carry in your pocket there.
Now, I’d not starve; but, on the other hand,
Would not wrong any one to keep me from ’t:
How shall we settle that?