Mor. Good, no confusion.
We are before a Lady that knows manners;
And by the next meat I shall eat, 'tis certain,
This little Gentlewoman that was taken with us.
Cla. Your Captains Sister, she you mean.
Mor. I, I, she's the business that we would open to ye.
You are cousened in her.
Lam. { How, what is't you would open?
Fran. { She is no Sister.
Mor. Good Sirs how quick you are.
She is no Sister, Madam.
Fran. She is his.
Mor. Peace I say.
Cla. What is she?
Mor. Faith, sweet Lady,
She is, as a man would say, his.
Cla. What?