CHARLES. Dear Betty, then, the dearest——
BETTY. [Quickly.] Yea, call me dearest mummy, Hottentot, or what you will, just so it be not sweet, like Adonijah. It sickens me beyond expressing.
CHARLES. Then, sweet Betty thou art not, say rather sour Betty, cross Betty, mean Betty, bad Betty, mad Betty, sad Betty.
BETTY. [Suddenly dimpling.] Nay, glad Betty!
CHARLES. Art then so glad? Wilt tell me why? In sooth, I know not whither to be glad, or sad, or mad. Sometimes I am but one, sometimes I am all three.
BETTY. Wilt tell me why?
CHARLES. [Stepping closer and imprisoning her left hand.] Thou wilt not now escape it, for I will tell thee why, and mayhap this will aid me. [Slips ring, which he has had concealed in his pocket, on her finger.] Hath this no meaning for thee?
BETTY. [Her eyes sparkling with mischief.] Aye, 'tis a diabolical circle for the devil to daunce in!
CHARLES. [In astonishment.] A what?
BETTY. [Slowly.] A diabolical circle for the devil to daunce in—so father saith. Likewise Adonijah.