Enter Servant, with a cloak.
And then were they at church, I hold my life:
Maids think it long, till each be made a wife.
Hast thou my cloak, knave? well-said, put it on;
We'll after them: let me go, hasten both,
Both the bridegrooms forward; we'll walk a little
Softly on afore. But see, see, if they be not come
To fetch us now! We come, we come.
Bid them return, and save themselves this labour.
Enter Spendall, Staines, Geraldine, Widow, Gertrude, and Joyce.
W. Rash. Now have I a quartan ague upon me.
Sir Lionel. Why, how now! why come you from church to kneel thus publicly? what's the matter?
Gera. We kneel, sir, for your blessing.
Sir Lionel. How! my blessing? Master Geraldine, is not that your son?
Old Gera. Yes, sir; and that, I take it, is your daughter.
Sir Lionel. I suspect knavery. What are you?
Why do you kneel hand-in-hand with her?