Becket And Other Plays Part 72

Forgive him seventy times and seven: For all the blessed souls in Heaven Are both forgivers and forgiven.'

But I'll git the book agean, and larn mysen the rest, and saay it to ye afoor dark; ye ringed fur that, Miss, didn't ye?

DORA.

No, Milly; but if the farming-men be come for their wages, to send them up to me.

MILLY.

Yeas, Miss. [_Exit.

DORA (_sitting at desk counting money_).

Enough at any rate for the present. (_Enter_ FARMING MEN.) Good afternoon, my friends. I am sorry Mr. Steer still continues too unwell to attend to you, but the schoolmaster looked to the paying you your wages when I was away, didn't he?

MEN.

Yeas; and thanks to ye.

DORA.

Some of our workmen have left us, but he sent me an alphabetical list of those that remain, so, Allen, I may as well begin with you.

ALLEN (_with his hand to his ear_).

Halfabitical! Taake one o' the young 'uns fust, Miss, fur I be a bit deaf, and I wur hallus scaared by a big word; leastwaays, I should be wi' a lawyer.

DORA.

I spoke of your names, Allen, as they are arranged here (_shows book_)--according to their first letters.

ALLEN.

Letters! Yeas, I sees now. Them be what they larns the childer' at school, but I were burn afoor schoolin-time.

DORA.

But, Allen, tho' you can't read, you could whitewash that cottage of yours where your grandson had the fever.

ALLEN.

I'll hev it done o' Monday.

DORA.

Else if the fever spread, the parish will have to thank you for it.

ALLEN.

Mea? why, it be the Lord's doin', noan o' mine; d'ye think _I'd_ gi'e 'em the fever? But I thanks ye all the saame, Miss. (_Takes money_.)

DORA (_calling out names_).

Higgins, Jackson, Lus...o...b.., Nokes, Oldham, Skipworth! (_All take money_.) Did you find that you worked at all the worse upon the cold tea than you would have done upon the beer?

HIGGINS.

Noa, Miss; we worked naw wuss upo' the cowd tea; but we'd ha' worked better upo' the beer.

DORA.

Come, come, you worked well enough, and I am much obliged to all of you. There's for you, and you, and you. Count the money and see if it's all right.

MEN.

All right, Miss; and thank ye kindly.

[_Exeunt_ LUs...o...b.., NOKES, OLDHAM, SKIPWORTH.

DORA.

Dan Smith, my father and I forgave you stealing our coals.

[DAN SMITH _advances to_ DORA.

DAN SMITH (_bellowing_).

Whoy, O lor, Miss! that wur sa long back, and the walls sa thin, and the winders brokken, and the weather sa cowd, and my missus a-gittin'

ower 'er lyin'-in.

DORA.

Didn't I say that we had forgiven you? But, Dan Smith, they tell me that you--and you have six children--spent all your last Sat.u.r.day's wages at the ale-house; that you were stupid drunk all Sunday, and so ill in consequence all Monday, that you did not come into the hayfield. Why should I pay you your full wages?

DAN SMITH.

I be ready to taake the pledge.

DORA.

And as ready to break it again. Besides it was you that were driving the cart--and I fear you were tipsy then, too--when you lamed the lady in the hollow lane.

DAN SMITH (_bellowing_).

O lor, Miss! noa, noa, noa! Ye sees the holler laane be hallus sa dark i' the arternoon, and wheere the big eshtree cuts athurt it, it gi'es a turn like, and 'ow should I see to laame the laady, and mea coomin'

along pretty sharp an' all?

DORA.

Well, there are your wages; the next time you waste them at a pothouse you get no more from me. (_Exit_ DAN SMITH.) Sally Allen, you worked for Mr. Dobson, didn't you?

SALLY (_advancing_).

Yeas, Miss; but he wur so rough wi' ma, I couldn't abide 'im.

DORA.

Why should he be rough with you? You are as good as a man in the hayfield. What's become of your brother?

SALLY.

'Listed for a soadger, Miss, i' the Queen's Real Hard Tillery.

DORA.

And your sweetheart--when are you and he to be married?

SALLY.

At Michaelmas, Miss, please G.o.d.

DORA.

You are an honest pair. I will come to your wedding.

SALLY.

An' I thanks ye fur that, Miss, moor nor fur the waage.