SIR ARTHUR.
My daughter!
Stop not my way!
BRIAN. What make you in my walk? you have stolen the best Buck in my walk to night.
SIR ARTHUR.
My daughter!
BRIAN.
My Deer!
SIR RAPH.
Where is Mountchensey?
BRIAN.
Where's my Buck?
SIR ARTHUR.
I will complain me of thee to the King.
BRIAN.
I'll complain unto the King you spoil his game:
Tis strange that men of your account and calling
Will offer it!
I tell you true, Sir Arthur and Sir Raph,
That none but you have only spoild my game.
SIR ARTHUR.
I charge you, stop us not!
BRIAN.
I charge you both ye get out of my ground!
Is this a time for such as you,
Men of your place and of your gravity,
To be abroad a thieving? tis a shame;
And, afore God, if I had shot at you,
I had served you well enough.