WIFE. Out upon him! By my truly, Master Justice, and ye do not clap him up, I will sue a bill of remorse, and never come between a pair of sheets with ye. Such a kneve as this! down with him, I pray. [_Set upon him: he knocks some down_. WIFE. Ah, good Lord! come not near, good husband; only charge him, charge him! Ah, good God! help, help! _Enter_ PRINCE JOHN, _the_ BISHOP OF ELY, _the_ PRIOR OF YORK, _with others. All stay_. JOHN. What tumult have we here? who doth resist The king's writs with such obstinate contempt? WIFE. This kneve. WAR. This rebel. JOHN. How now, Little John, Have you no more discretion than you show? ELY. Lay hold, and clap the traitor by the heels. LIT. JOHN. I am no traitor, my good Lord of Ely First hear me, then commit me, if you please. JOHN. Speak, and be brief. LIT. JOHN. Here is a little box, Containing all my gettings twenty year, Which is mine own, and no man's but mine own: This they would rifle, this I do defend, And about this we only do contend. JOHN. You do the fellow wrong: his goods are his. You only must extend upon the Earl's. PRIOR. That was, my lord, but now is Robert Hood; A simple yeoman, as his servants were. WIFE. Back with that leg, my Lord Prior: there be some that were his servants think foul scorn to be called yeomen. PRIOR. I cry your worship mercy, Mistress Warman: The squire, your husband, was his servant once. LIT. JOHN. A scurvy squire, with reverence of these lords. WIFE. Does he not speak treason, pray? ELY. Sirrah, ye are too saucy: get you hence. WAR. But hear me first, my lords, with patience. This scoffing, careless fellow, Little John, Hath loaden hence a horse 'twixt him and Much, A silly, rude knave--Much, the miller's son. _Enter_ MUCH, _Clown_. MUCH. I am here to answer for myself, and have taken you in two lies at once: first, Much is no knave, neither was it a horse Little John and I loaded, but a little curtal of some five handfuls high, sib to the ape's only beast at Paris Garden.[176] LIT. JOHN. But, Master Warman, you have loaded carts, And turned my lord's goods to your proper use. Whoever hath the right, you do the wrong, And are-- WIFE. What is he, kneve? LIT. JOHN. Unworthy to be nam'd a man. MUCH. And I'll be sworn for his wife. WIFE. Ay, so thou mayest, Much. MUCH. That she sets new marks of all my old lady's linen (God rest her soul!), and my young lord never had them since. WIFE. Out, out! I took him them but for to whiten, as God mend me. ELY. Leave off this idle talk; get ye both hence. LIT. JOHN. I thank your honours: we are not in love With being here. We must seek service that are masterless. [_Exeunt_ MUCH _and_ LITTLE JOHN. ELY. Lord Prior of York, here's your commission. You are best make speed, lest in his country houses, By his appointment, all his herds be sold. PRIOR. I thank your honour, taking humble leave. [_Exit_.