Horn. I would not have you.
Mrs. Pinch. What's the matter with 'em all? [Peeping in behind.
Pinch. Come, come, Mr. Horner, no more disputing; here's the parson, I brought him not in vain.
Har. No, sir, I'll employ him, if this lady please.
Pinch. How! what d'ye mean?
Spark. Ay, what does he mean?
Horn. Why, I have resigned your sister to him, he has my consent.
Pinch. But he has not mine, sir; a woman's injured honour, no more than a man's, can be repaired or satisfied by any but him that first wronged it; and you shall marry her presently, or—[Lays his hand on his sword.
Re-enter Mrs. Pinchwife.
Mrs. Pinch. O Lord, they'll kill poor Mr. Horner! besides, he shan't marry her whilst I stand by, and look on; I'll not lose my second husband so.