"Who art thou, fellow, that doth dare to stop me thus upon the King's
highway?" said the lean man, in a dry, sour voice.
"Pity a poor beggar," quoth Robin. "Give me but a farthing to buy me a
piece of bread."
"Now, out upon thee!" snarled the other. "Such sturdy rogues as thou
art are better safe in the prisons or dancing upon nothing, with a
hempen collar about the neck, than strolling the highways so freely."
"Tut," quoth Robin, "how thou talkest! Thou and I are brothers, man. Do
we not both take from the poor people that which they can ill spare? Do
we not make our livings by doing nought of any good? Do we not both live
without touching palm to honest work? Have we either of us ever rubbed
thumbs over honestly gained farthings? Go to! We are brothers, I say;
only thou art rich and I am poor; wherefore, I prythee once more, give
me a penny."
"Doss thou prate so to me, sirrah?" cried the Corn Engrosser in a rage.
"Now I will have thee soundly whipped if ever I catch thee in any town
where the law can lay hold of thee! As for giving thee a penny, I swear
to thee that I have not so much as a single groat in my purse.
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