[Stands aside.  Voices heard.]

[Enter four POACHERS, one carrying a fawn.]

1st Poach. I tell thee that I heard ’em bay.

2nd Poach. And I too!  Curse me, but I thought his fangs did meet in the calf of my leg.

[Enter POACHERS, L.U.E.]

3rd Poach. ’Tis like it was the tooth of a dog-bramble.

2nd Poach. Well, well; it is the nature of man to hunt forbidden deer.

Arth. [Aside] And to carve his name on benches.

2nd Poach. And while game be preserved, there will be the likes of we.

3rd Poach. Right too.  But it is a mortal sin to make us men into dog’s-meat, and to hunt us with foreign bloodhound varmint.  Hast heard, friend Gregory, who stole my apples?

4th Poach. Not I!

3rd Poach. Would I could catch the thieving rascals!  Look ye, the tree is mine, and it does but hang over the road a scantling; and, as sure as nights are dark, comes me some ragged pilferers, that have not to pay an honest drunkenness, and basely steal my apples.

Arth. [Aside] Oh, most benighted conscience of the villains!

4th Poach. Shall I lend thee my bull-bitch to watch thy tree?  She hath a real gripe for a rascally thin leg.  Your orphan, your cast-away, hath no chance with her, I warrant.  A rare bitch!

Arth. [Aside] O gentle sophist! what a line is here; Lions tear wolves, wolves rend the stricken deer.

3rd Poach. Well, now, I thank thee, friend Gregory.  Thou art a true man.  I will so belabour and flay any of the cyder-blooded rascals, an thy bitch shall hold him; ’twill do a man good to hear of it.

1st Poach. I know the bitch.  She’ll kill them outright!  These be right times.  There be no inquests now, Master Gregory?

4th Poach. What’s that to me more than you others?  I did not murder him!

1st Poach. Who?  The Puritan young gentleman whom Noll the brewer, that is general now, made such a stir about—­

3rd Poach. As if plenty didn’t die in these wars—­

1st Poach. Or the girl, Gregory! eh? the girl by the well, with her finger cut, and her throat—­

4th Poach. Damn thee, have done!  She was dead, ere I found her, and I did but take—­

1st Poach. The ring, thou wouldst say.

2nd and 3rd Poach. Come, confess now!

Arth. [Aside] This is black devilry.  Alas! poor England! 
How many private, sleeping villanies
Now wake to horrid life that else had slept,
But for the times’ most bloody anarchy?

2nd Poach. They say this Cromwell is near these parts.

4th Poach. I heard another speak! [Loud] I never saw the girl till she was brought in, I tell ye.