O. Book. Nay, 'tis no sudden thing. Her father and I have been old acquaintance, and I was so confident of her worth, and your compliance, that I can't with honour disengage myself.
Y. Book. How, sir! when honour calls me to the field, where I may perpetuate your name by some brave exploit——
O. Book. You may do it much better, Tom, at home, by a brave boy. Come, come, it must be so——
Y. Book. What shall I do for some invention? [Aside.
O. Book. Let it be so, dear Tom; it must be so.
Y. Book. What if it be impossible?
O. Book. Impossible! as how?
Y. Book. Upon my knees I beg your pardon, sir; I am——
O. Book. What?
Y. Book. At Oxford——