Susan. Yes. That ’tis. ’Tis our Master William what’s dressed up in his Sunday clothes and gone a-courting with a basket of green stuff on his arm big enough to fill the market, very nigh.
Chris. Well, well, who’d have thought he had it in him?
Nat. He’s a gentleman what’s not cut out for courting, to my mind.
Susan. Indeed he isn’t, Nat. And however the mistress got him dressed and set off on that business, I don’t know.
Julia. But you have not told us who the lady is, Susan.
Susan. [Suddenly very embarrassed.] I—I—don’t think as I do rightly know who ’tis, mistress.
Chris. Why, look you, Susan, you’ll have to take and hide yourself if you don’t want for them to know as you be got along of we.
Susan. What’s that, Chris?
Chris. [Pointing.] See there, that man of Master Gardner’s be a-coming along towards us fast. Look yonder—
Susan. O whatever shall I do? ’Tis John, and surely he will tell of me when he gets back.