Hannah.
I’m Mrs. Topping now, sir—bride o’ the constable. And oh, do forgive him—he’s a mass o’ ignorance.
Noah.
Coom away!
[Hannah returns to Noah, as Sir Tristram re-enters with Hatcham.
Sir Tristram.
[To Hatcham.] Hatcham—[pointing to The Dean]—Is that the man you and the Constable secured in the stable last night?
Hatcham.
That, sir! Bless your ’art, sir, that’s the Dean ’imself.
Sir Tristram.