Sir John. Pah!—What an innocent girl it is, and very child! I like a colt that never yet was backed; for so I shall make her what I list, and mould her as I will. Lord! her innocence makes me laugh my cheeks all wet. [Aside.]—Sweet lady——
Chr. I'm but a gentlewoman, forsooth.
Sir John. Well then, sweet mistress, if I get your friends' consent, shall I have yours?
Chr. My old lady may do what she will, forsooth; but by my truly, I hope she will have more care of me, than to marry me yet. Lord bless me, what should I do with a husband?
Sir John. Well, sweetheart, then instead of wooing you, I must woo my old lady.
Chr. Indeed, gentleman, my old lady is married already: Cry you mercy, forsooth, I think you are a knight.
Sir John. Happy in that title, only to make you a lady.
Chr. Believe me, Mr Knight, I would not be a lady; it makes folks proud, and so humorous, and so ill huswifes, forsooth.
Sir John. Pah!—she's a baby, the simplest thing that ever yet I knew: the happiest man I shall be in the world; for should I have my wish, it should be to keep school, and teach the bigger girls, and here, in one, my wish it is absolved.
Enter Lady Dupe.