I cry shame upon them both." "'Swounds!" swore Master Peter.

"Do you malign the dead ?" "If I do, I malign them both.

But I do not.

I no more than condemn a fault that both must acknowledge could they return to life." "Then, Sir, confine your condemnings to your own father with whom no man of honour could have lived at peace...." "Softly, softly, good Sir...." "There's no call to go softly.

Ralph Tressilian was a dishonour, a scandal to the countryside.