"And yet," said Jocelyn, "thou thyself art rogue and thief confessed. How
then art better than these thy fellows?"
"By degree, Sir Fool. Even as thou'rt Fool o' folly uncommon, so am I no
ordinary rogue, being rogue o' rare parts with power of rogues i' the wild
wood, while these be but puny rogues of no parts soever."
"No rogues are we!" the three did loudly cry,
"But sad, poor souls, that perishing do lie!"
"In me," quoth one, "behold a man of worth,
By trade a dyer and yclepen Gurth;
In all this world no man, howe'er he try,
Could live a life so innocent as I!"
The second spake: "I am the ploughman Rick,
That ne'er harmed man or woman, maid or chick!
But here in direful dungeon doomed be I,
Yet cannot tell the wherefore nor the why."
Then spake Red-head, albeit gasping still:
"An honest tanner I, my name is Will;
'T was me thou kickedst, Fool, in such ill manner,
Of crimes unjust accused--and I, a tanner!"
Here Joc'lyn smiled. "Most saintly rogues," said he;
"The Saints, methinks, were rogues compared with ye,
And one must needs in prison come who'd find
The noblest, worthiest, best of all mankind.
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