George. Then that had been the one for you to have wed, Master Thomas.
Thomas. Ah, George, don’t you never run into the trap, no matter whether ’tis baited with the choicest thing you ever did dream on. Once in, never out. There ’tis.
George. No one would trouble to set a snare for me, master. I baint worth trapping.
Thomas. You be a brave, fine country lad, George, what a pretty baggage from London town might give a year of her life to catch, so be it her had the fortune.
George. No, no, Master Thomas. Nothing of that. There baint nothing.
Thomas. There be a piece of blue ribbon, George.
George. They be coming down and into the room now, master. [Steps are heard in the staircase.
Thomas. We’ll off to the meadow then, George.
[George and Thomas go out.
[Joan, dressed as a lady of fashion, and followed by Clara, comes into the kitchen.