Shakebag. I pray thee speak still that we may meet by
the sound, for I shall fall into some ditch or other,
unless my feet see better than my eyes.
Will. Didst thou ever see better weather to run away
with another man’s wife, or play with a wench at
pot-finger? 9
Shakebag. No; this were a fine world for chandlers, if
this weather would last; for then a man should
never dine nor sup without candle-light. But,
sirrah Will, what horses are those that passed?
Will. Why, didst thou hear any?
Shakebag. Ay, that I did.
Will. My life for thine, ’twas Arden, and his companion,
and then all our labour’s lost.
Shakebag. Nay, say not so, for if it be they, they may
haply lose their way as we have done, and then we
may chance meet with them. 20
Will. Come, let us go on like a couple of blind pilgrims.
[Then Shakebag falls into a ditch.
Shakebag. Help, Will, help, I am almost drowned.