He may do so much, be they, indifferently,
    Penn’d statutes, or the land’s unwritten usages,
    As public fame, civil compliances,
    Misnamed honor, trust in matter of secrets,
    All vows and promises, the feeble mind’s religion,
    (Binding our morning knowledge to approve
    What last night’s ignorance spake);
    The ties of blood withal, and prejudice of kin. 
    Sir, these weak terrors
    Must never shake me.  I know what belongs
    To a worthy friendship.  Come, you shall have my confidence.

    LOVEL
    I hope you think me worthy.

    JOHN
    You will smile to hear now—­
    Sir Walter never has been out of the island.

    LOVEL
    You amaze me.

    JOHN
    That same report of his escape to France
    Was a fine tale, forg’d by myself—­Ha! ha! 
    I knew it would stagger him.

    LOVEL
    Pray, give me leave. 
    Where has he dwelt, how liv’d, how lain conceal’d? 
    Sure I may ask so much.

    JOHN
    From place to place, dwelling in no place long,
    My brother Simon still hath borne him company,
    (’Tis a brave youth, I envy him all his virtues.)
    Disguis’d in foreign garb, they pass for Frenchmen,
    Two Protestant exiles from the Limosin
    Newly arriv’d.  Their dwelling’s now at Nottingham,
    Where no soul knows them.

LOVEL Can you assign any reason, why a gentleman of Sir Walter’s known prudence should expose his person so lightly?

    JOHN
    I believe, a certain fondness,
    A child-like cleaving to the land that gave him birth,
    Chains him like fate.

    LOVEL
    I have known some exiles thus
    To linger out the term of the law’s indulgence,
    To the hazard of being known.

    JOHN
    You may suppose sometimes
    They use the neighb’ring Sherwood for their sport,
    Their exercise and freer recreation.—­
    I see you smile.  Pray now, be careful.

    LOVEL
    I am no babbler, sir; you need not fear me.

    JOHN
    But some men have been known to talk in their sleep,
    And tell fine tales that way.

    LOVEL
    I have heard so much.  But, to say truth, I mostly sleep alone.

    JOHN
    Or drink, sir? do you never drink too freely? 
    Some men will drink, and tell you all their secrets.

    LOVEL
    Why do you question me, who know my habits?

    JOHN
    I think you are no sot,
    No tavern-troubler, worshipper of the grape;
    But all men drink sometimes,
    And veriest saints at festivals relax,
    The marriage of a friend, or a wife’s birth-day.

    LOVEL
    How much, sir, may a man with safety drink? (Smiling.)

    JOHN
    Sir, three half pints a day is reasonable;
    I care not if you never exceed that quantity.