"Quiet, little one, or you may do yourself a hurt.

Must pay Saxon toll on Saxon land, my proud Maude, for all your airs and graces." "You boor!" she hissed.

"You base underbred clod! Is this your care and your hospitality?
I would rather wed a branded serf from my father's fields.

Leave go, I say----Ah! good youth, Heaven has sent you.

Make him loose me! By the honor of your mother, I pray you to stand by me and to make this knave loose me." "Stand by you I will, and that blithely." said Alleyne.