FIRST OUTLAW         And I, for such like petty crimes as these.

But to the purpose, for we cite our faults

That they may hold excused our lawless lives.

And partly seeing you are beautified

With goodly shape, and by your own report

A linguist, and a man of such perfection

As we do in our quality much want–

SECOND OUTLAW     Indeed because you are a banished man,

Therefore above the rest we parley to you.

Are you content to be our general,

To make a virtue of necessity

And live as we do in this wilderness?         (4.1.49-60)

Yeah, me too, says the first outlaw, and I have also been banished for such like petty crimes as these—that is, for abduction, murder, and possibly rape. (There could be an ironic laugh in this casual dismissing of serious criminality, or else the suggestion that actually the first outlaw is guilty of nothing more than, oooo, repeated low-level drugs offences and riding his bike on the pavement.) But to the purpose—more to the point—for we cite our faults that they may hold excused our lawless lives. We’re only telling you all this to explain how we’ve ended up here. Living in a forest. Robbing people. Don’t think badly of us! We’re not bad people! It’s more that, partly seeing you are beautified with goodly shape—you’re a gentleman, and you look like one (handsome chap) and by your own report a linguist (you can speak other languages! so useful in the highway robbery business, indeed essential!) and in short you are a man of such perfection as we do in our quality much want. We’ve been looking for someone like you; we need someone like you. I mean, look at us. We need someone like you to give us a bit of class? (The first outlaw is getting carried away here; there could be shuffling, nervous glances from the others: don’t sound too desperate, mate; also: what?) The second outlaw takes over, more business-like and restrained: indeed, because you are a banished man (stating the obvious, rubbing it in) therefore above the rest we parley to you. That’s the chief reason we’re asking this of you, making you this offer. You’re like us, only better, basically. Are you content to be our general, to make a virtue of necessity and live as we do in this wilderness? Will you be our leader and stay here with us? it’s not like you’ve got a choice, though, is it? Deal?