RICHARD
(busying himself).
At once, sir.

PENROSE
(languidly).
Mark how importantly he takes the landlord's place. How old are you,
young tapster?

RICHARD.
About your own age, sir, I have been thinking.

MARSH
(with a laugh).
Zounds! You're well answered, Penrose.

RICHARD
(seeing that Penrose starts up angrily).
Indeed 'twas truth I meant, sir, and no insult.

MARSH.
Sit down. Sit down. He is a simple fellow. (Taps his forehead.) He
means no wrong. We might have sport with him.

RICHARD
(still mock-humble).
If I can serve you, sir, to anything?

MARSH.
Suppose we call for tea?