THE SCARECROW [With a slight stammer.] It gives me—I assure you—lady—the deepest happiness.
GOODY RICKBY Just so the old hypocrite spoke when I said I’d have him. But thou hast a sweeter deference, my son.
[Re-enter Dickon; he is dressed all in black, save for a white stock,—a suit of plain elegance.]
DICKON Now, my lord, your tutor is ready.
THE SCARECROW [To Goody Rickby.] I have the honour—permit me—to wish you—good morning.
[Bows and takes a step after Dickon, who, taking a three-cornered cocked hat from a peg, goes toward the door.]
GOODY RICKBY Whoa! Whoa, Jack! Whither away?
DICKON [Presenting the hat.] Deign to reply, sir.
THE SCARECROW I go—with my tutor—Master Dickonson—to pay my respects—to his worship—the Justice—Merton—to solicit—the hand—of his daughter—the fair Mistress—Rachel. [With another bow.] Permit me.
GOODY RICKBY Permit ye? God speed ye! Thou must teach him his tricks, Dickon.