Roger. Ah! thou art in love? In love didst thou say?
Diggory. Aye, sir, if it please you.
Roger. It pleases me well enough; how doth it please the lady?
Diggory. She's not a lady, sir, thank God! she's but a simple maiden, and it pleaseth her not.
Roger. A simple maid refuses you! Ah! Diggory, Diggory, be thankful for the good things God hath sent thee.
Diggory. Truly, sir, I thank Him ev'ry day; but, sir, as I do desire the maiden—I—I—would have her too.
Roger. And so, Diggory, thou wouldst have me aid thee in this folly, and give thee a love potion?
Diggory. Aye, sir, begging your honor's pardon.
Roger. But why dost thou ask me, Diggory? Dost thou take me for an herb-doctor, or a necromancer, or what?