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1. Out. What, were you banish’d thence?

Val. I was.

2. Out. For what offense?

Val.

For that which now torments me to rehearse:

I kill’d a man, whose death I much repent,

But yet I slew him manfully in fight,

Without false vantage, or base treachery.

1. Out.

Why, ne’er repent it, if it were done so.

But were you banish’d for so small a fault?

Val.

I was, and held me glad of such a doom.

2. Out.

Have you the tongues?

Val.

My youthful travel therein made me happy,

Or else I often had been miserable.

3. Out.

By the bare scalp of Robin Hood’s fat friar,

This fellow were a king for our wild faction!

1. Out.

We’ll have him. Sirs, a word.

Speed.

Master, be one of them;

It’s an honorable kind of thievery.

Val.

Peace, villain.

2. Out.

Tell us this: have you any thing to take to?

Val.

Nothing but my fortune.

3. Out.

Know then, that some of us are gentlemen,

Such as the fury of ungovern’d youth

Thrust from the company of aweful men.

Myself was from Verona banished

For practicing to steal away a lady,