"Most true!" says I, stretching myself in the hay.
"O!" quoth he, as to himself, "O the pity on't--so foul an end to so fair a bird!"
"Never whine!" says I, "but tell me how far hence lieth Lamberhurst."
"Better nor six mile!" he sighed, heaving himself into the driving-seat.
"Why then, do you carry me thither."
"Ad's love!" he mourned. "'Tis manifest shame a rogue should thieve the food of an honest man--a man like I be as do slave morning, noon and--"
"Slave!" says I, frowning. "What know you of slavery? Be curst for a great, fat fool that speaketh lies!" Now watching him as I lay, I saw his hand close stealthily on his heavy whip, but or ever he could turn to strike, I rose and fetched him a buffet 'neath the ear that pitched him sprawling upon the broad backs of his horses, whence (with much groaning and puffing) he presently got him safely into the road; seeing the which, I took the reins, whipping the team to faster gait, so that to keep pace he must needs trot it in the mud.
"Hold!" cries he. "What would ye wi' my waggon?"
"Ride in 't!"
"Hold! Then suffer me to ride likewise, for I'm scant o' breath--"
"Good! I've been scant o' breath ere now!"
"Show a little pity, master!" he groaned.
"None ever showed pity on me!"
"Nay, but--what harm have I--ever--done thee?"
"Begrudged food to a starving wretch!"
"'Twas my dinner and I do need a deal of feeding, I! Lord, how I sweat! Prithee, master, let me up. How have I deserved this?"
"Called me rogue and thief!"
"Aye, that I did--to my woe. Aye, rogue I named thee and likewise--lousy knave--and grieve for't now, I do!"
"And so needs must you sweat awhile!" says I.
And thus I (aloft and at mine ease) and the fat fellow trotting breathless at the wheel we went awhile (and never another word) until, what with fear of losing his goods, what with the mud and heat and sweat, the poor gross fool looked wellnigh spent and all foredone (as I had seen many a better man than he), whereupon I brought the waggon to a stand and reached down to stir him where he lent half-swooning across the wheel.
"Hark'ee, fool, dost know of one called Brandon of Shene hereabouts?"
"Aye, truly--truly!" he gasped. "I do know--Sir Richard--passing well. Ad's bobs, my innards be all shook t'pieces and I do be parched wi' thirst."
"Why then, up with you!" says I, and giving him my hand, aided him back to the driving-seat. Being there, he sighed, groaned and cast a yearning eye towards his wallet.