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IVANHOE.
217

CHAPTER XI.

 I Outlaw. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about you;If not, we'll make you sit, and rifle you. Speed. Sir, we are undone! these are the villainsThat all the travellers do fear so much. Val. My friends,——— 1 Out. That's not so, sir, we are your enemies. 2 Out. Peace! we'll hear him. 3 Out. Aye, by my beard, will we;For he's a proper man.Two Gentlemen of Verona.

The nocturnal adventures of Gurth were not yet concluded; indeed he himself became partly of that mind, when, after passing one or two straggling houses which stood in the outskirts of the village, he found himself in a deep lane, running between two banks, overgrown with hazle and holly, while here and there a dwarf oak flung its arms altogether across the path. The lane was moreover much rutted and broken up by the carriages which had recently transported articles

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