L. Dupe. By your leave, sir: I hope this noble knight will make you happy, and you make him—
Chr. What should I make him?
[Sighing.
L. Dupe. Marry, you shall make him happy in a good wife.
Chr. I will not marry, madam.
L. Dupe. You fool!
Sir John. Pray, madam, let me speak with you; on my soul, 'tis the prettiest innocentest thing in the world.
L. Dupe. Indeed, sir, she knows little besides her work, and her prayers; but I'll talk with the fool.
Sir John. Deal gently with her, dear madam.
L. Dupe. Come, Christian, will you not marry this noble knight?
Chr. Ye—ye—yes——
[Sobbingly.