Enter HONOR McBRIDE, walking very timidly.
And no need to be ashamed, Miss Honor, until you’re found out.
Mr. Carv. Silence!
Old McB. Thank your honour.
{Mr. CARVER whispers to his clerk, and directs him while the following speeches go on.
Catty. That’s a very pretty curtsy, Miss Honor—walk on, pray—all the gentlemen’s admiring you—my son Randal beyant all.
Randal. Mother, I won’t bear—
Catty. Can’t you find a sate for her, any of yees? Here’s a stool—give it her, Randal. (HONOR sits down.) And I hope it won’t prove the stool of repentance, Miss or Madam. Oh, bounce your forehead, Randal—truth must out; you’ve put it to the test, sir.
Randal. I desire no other for her or myself.
{The father and brother take each a hand of HONOR—support and soothe her.