Enter Wooer and Doctor come forward.
WOOER.
Pretty soul,
How do ye? That’s a fine maid; there’s a curtsy!
DAUGHTER.
Yours to command i’ th’ way of honesty.
How far is’t now to’ th’ end o’ th’ world, my masters?
DOCTOR.
Why, a day’s journey, wench.
DAUGHTER.
Will you go with me?
WOOER.
What shall we do there, wench?
DAUGHTER.
Why, play at stool-ball;
What is there else to do?
WOOER.
I am content,
If we shall keep our wedding there.
DAUGHTER.
’Tis true,
For there, I will assure you, we shall find
Some blind priest for the purpose, that will venture
To marry us, for here they are nice and foolish.
Besides, my father must be hanged tomorrow,
And that would be a blot i’ th’ business.
Are not you Palamon?
WOOER.
Do not you know me?