Isabel. [Shrinking.] O no—I couldn’t go among—among strangers.
Jeremy. I never takes no count of a female’s vapours. You’ll come along of me. You’ll curl the mistress’s hair and lace her gown and keep her tongue quiet—and you [turning to Lubin] my man, will set the tables and wait upon the quality what we expect from Bristol town this dinner-time.
Lubin. [Angrily.] I never waited on man nor woman in my life, and I’ll not start now.
Jeremy. You will. I’m not agoin’ a half mile further this warm morning. Back to the Mill you goes along of me, the two of you.
Mary. [Looking fixedly at Isabel.] This is a chance for you, my dear. You’ll not find a better.
Jeremy. Better? I count as you’ll not better this’n. Good money for your pains—victuals to stuff you proper, and cider, all you can drink on a summer’s day. I count you’ll not better that.
Lubin. [As though to himself.] I could not go.
Jeremy. Some cattle want a lot of driving.
Isabel. [Timidly to Lubin.] If I go, could not you try and come along with me, master?
Lubin. You’ll never have the heart to go through with it.