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"But I will commute," said the friar: "for twenty marks a year duly paid into my ghostly pocket you shall call your daughter Mawd two hundred times a day."
"Gramercy," said the baron, "and I agree, honest friar, when I can get twenty marks to pay: for till Prince John be beaten from Nottingham, my rents are like to prove but scanty."
"I will, trust," said the friar, "and thus let us ratify the stipulation; so shall our laws and your infringement run together in an amicable parallel."
"But," said Little John, "this is a bad precedent, master friar. It is turning discipline into profit, penalty into perquisite, public justice into private revenue. It is rank corruption, master friar."
"Why are laws made?" said the friar. "For the profit of somebody. Of whom?