Mistress Porter. Silence, Desire! [She and Mistress Wells try to hustle the children out of sight of the tree.]
Elder Hopkins. Speak, woman, and tell us the meaning of this.
Patience [timidly]. Please, sir, 'tis—'tis—'tis a Christmas Tree!
Porter. We knew it!
Turner. Aye, my son Reuben hath told us. He heard them speaking of it not a week since.
Porter. And Gershom, too—they have kept good watch upon these evil-doers.
Myles [angrily, to Reuben]. So thou wast listening at the window. Sneak!
Reuben [blustering]. And may not the King's subject walk upon the King's highway, Sir Cocksparrow?
Roger [shaking his fist at boys]. Methinks 'twill take the King's soldiers to protect thee when once we catch thee——
Gershom. We'll show thee, thou blusterer, if we be not as free as thou!