Winw. Why, if you can like either of us, lady, say, which is he, and the other shall swear instantly to desist.
Quar. Content, I accord to that willingly.
Grace. Sure you think me a woman of an extreme levity, gentlemen, or a strange fancy, that, meeting you by chance in such a place as this, both at one instant, and not yet of two hours’ acquaintance, neither of you deserving afore the other of me, I should so forsake my modesty (though I might affect one more particularly) as to say, this is he, and name him.
Quar. Why, wherefore should you not? what should hinder you?
Grace. If you would not give it to my modesty, allow it yet to my wit; give me so much of woman and cunning, as not to betray myself impertinently. How can I judge of you, so far as to a choice, without knowing you more? You are both equal, and alike to me yet, and so indifferently affected by me, as each of you might be the man, if the other were away: for you are reasonable creatures, you have understanding and discourse; and if fate send me an understanding husband, I have no fear at all but mine own manners shall make him a good one.
Quar. Would I were put forth to making for you then.
Grace. It may be you are, you know not what is toward you: will you consent to a motion of mine, gentlemen?
Winw. Whatever it be, we’ll presume reasonableness, coming from you.
Quar. And fitness too.
Grace. I saw one of you buy a pair of tables, e’en now.