“Why, then, methinks, I would go to the wars.”
“And bring back as many heads, arms, and legs, as thou tookest thither?”
“Oh, for sure,” saith Milly. “I would not be killed.”
“Just. Very well,—Mistress Milisent back from the wars, and covered with glory. And then?”
“Well—methinks I would love to be a judge for a bit.”
“Dry work,” saith Aunt Joyce. “And then a bishop?”
“Ay, if you will.”
“And then?”
“Why, I might as well be a king, while I went about it.”
“Quite as well. I am astonished thou hast come thither no sooner. And then?”