But they were counting their corn before the harvest . The man fell lightly ; he was lightly afoot again , turned and waved his cap in a bravado , and was out of sight next moment in the margin of the wood . `` And the plague go with him ! '' cried Bennet . `` He has thieves ' heels ; he can run , by St Banbury ! But you touched him , Master Shelton ; he has stolen your quarrel , may he never have good I grudge him less ! '' `` Nay , but what made he by the church ? '' asked Sir Oliver . `` I am shrewdly afeared there has been mischief here . Clipsby , good fellow , get ye down from your horse , and search thoroughly among the yews . '' Clipsby was gone but a little while ere he returned carrying a paper . `` This writing was pinned to the church door , '' he said , handing it to the parson . `` I found naught else , sir parson . '' `` Now , by the power of Mother Church , '' cried Sir Oliver , `` but this runs hard on sacrilege ! For the king 's good pleasure , or the lord of the manor -- well ! But that every run-the-hedge in a green jerkin should fasten papers to the chancel door -- nay , it runs hard on sacrilege , hard ; and men have burned for matters of less weight . But what have we here ? The light falls apace . Good Master Richard , y ' have young eyes . Read me , I pray , this libel . ''
Dick XXXXX took the paper in his hand and read it aloud .
Banbury Bennet Clipsby Mother Oliver Richard Shelton jerkin run-the-hedge yews