Richard's been accused of theft in the 16th century.
|"You're making a mistake!" Richard cried, as the Judge's assistant placed the black cloth on His Lordship's head.
"The witness pointed straight at you," replied the Judge.
"But. . . I was with Mr Green that night!"
"He is here to vouch for you?"
Richard hesitated, then hung his head. "No, Your Honour."
"That's unfortunate. I—"
The crowd of onlookers turned their attention towards the door and moments later, a man in aristocratic dress appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the court.
"This man is innocent," he declared, pointing straight to Richard.
"You are Mr Green?" asked the Judge.
The newcomer blinked. "No, Sir. Mr Green is not here."
"But you know he is innocent?"
"I do, Your Honour."
"Are you prepared to take the stand for him?"
"Of course, your Honour."
The judge sighed as he removed the cloth from his head and the newcomer was sworn in.
"How do you know the defendant is innocent?" Asked the prosecutor.
"Because Mr Green and I carried him home."
"Carried him home? Whatever for?"
"He was intoxicated, your Lordship. Couldn't walk in a straight line of his life depended upon it."
The crowd erupted in laughter and jeers.
"And where were you when you came across the defendant?"
"We were in The Bull's Head, Sheffield , Your Honour."
"Sheffield?" The prosecutor turned and looked perplexed at the jury before turning once more towards the witness. "But the theft happened in London."
The witness gave a satisfied smile. "Exactly. So he's right, isn't he? You have made a mistake."