Six Plays by Lady Florence Henrietta Fisher Darwin Part 49

WILLIAM. O I'm blessed if I do know what to do.

[JOHN takes his master's arm and draws him aside.

JOHN. You pluck up your heart, my dearest master, and court she hard. And in less nor a six months 'tis along to church as you'll be a-driving she.

WILLIAM. But John, 'tis t'other with the cherry ribbons that has taken all my fancy.

JOHN. No, no, Master William. You take and court the mistress. You take and tame the young vixen, and get the gold and silver from she.

T'other wench is but the serving maid.

SUSAN. The lady's coming along ever so quickly, master.

[MRS. GARDNER, rising and folding up her knitting.

MRS. GARDNER. You'll please to come indoors with me, William, and I'll brush you down and make you look more presentable than you appear just now. Susan, you'll get a cap to you head at once, do you hear me! And John, take and water master's seedlings. Any one can stand with their mouths open and their eyes as big as gooseberries if they've a mind. 'Tis not particular sharp to do so. Come, William.

WILLIAM. I'd like a word or two with John first, Mother.

MRS. GARDNER. You come along with me this moment, William. 'Tis a too many words by far that you've had with John already, and much good they've done to you. Come you in with me.

WILLIAM. O I'm blessed if I do know whether 'tis on my head or on my feet that I'm standing.

[WILLIAM follows his mother slowly and gloomily into the house.

JOHN. Well--if ever there was a poor, tormented animal 'tis the master.

SUSAN. Ah, mistress should have been born a drover by rights. 'Tis a grand nagging one as her'd have made, and sommat what no beast would ever have got the better of.

JOHN. I wouldn't stand in Master William's shoes, not if you was to put me knee deep in gold.

SUSAN. Nor I.

JOHN. Ah, this courting business, 'tis a rare caddling muddle when 'tis all done and said.

SUSAN. 'Tis according as some folks do find it, Master John.

JOHN. 'Tis a smartish lot as you'll get of it come Sunday night, my wench. You wait and see.

SUSAN. That shews how little you do know. 'Twill be better nor ever with me then.

JOHN. 'Twill be alone by yourself as you'll go walking, Su.

SUSAN. We'll see about that when the time comes, John.

JOHN. All I says is that I baint a-going walking with you.

SUSAN. I never walk with two, John.

JOHN. You'll have to learn to go in your own company.

SUSAN. I shall go by the side of my husband by then, very likely.

JOHN. Your husband? What tales be you a-giving out now?

SUSAN. 'Tis to Nat as I'm to be wed come Sat.u.r.day.

JOHN. Get along with you, Susan, and put a cap to your head.

Mistress will be coming out presently, and then you know how 'twill be if her catches you so. Get along in with you.

SUSAN. Now you don't believe what I'm telling you--but it's true, O it's true.

JOHN. Look here--There's company at the gate, and you a-standing there like any rough gipsy wench on the road. Get you in and make yourself a decenter appearance and then go and tell the mistress as they be comed.

SUSAN. [Preparing to go indoors and speaking over her shoulder.]

'Tis in the parson's gown as you should be clothed, Master John. Ah, 'tis a wonderful wordy preacher as you would make, to be sure. And 'tis a rare crop as one might raise with the seed as do fall from your mouth.

[She goes indoors. JULIA comes leisurely into the garden.

JULIA. Well, John, and how are you feeling now?

JOHN. Nicely, thank you, mistress. See yon arbour?

JULIA. And that I do, John.

JOHN. Well, you may go and sit within it till the master has leisure to come and speak with you.

JULIA. Thank you, John, but I would sooner stop and watch you tend the flowers.

JOHN. 'Tis all one to me whether you does or you does not.

JULIA. Now, John, you are angry with me still.

JOHN. I likes a wench as do know the mind of she, and not one as can blow hot one moment and cold the next.

JULIA. There was never a moment when I did not know my own mind, John. And that's the truth.

JOHN. Well, us won't say no more about that. 'Taint fit as there should be ill feeling nor quarrelling 'twixt me and you.

JULIA. You're right, John. And there was something that I had it in my mind to ask you.

JOHN. You can say your fill. There baint no one but me in the garden.

JULIA. John, you told me that since Sunday your master has been sick with love.

JOHN. That's right enough, mistress. I count as we shall bury he if sommat don't come to his relief.

JULIA. Now, John, do you look into my eyes and tell me if 'tis for love of Julia or of Laura that your master lies sickening.

JOHN. You'd best go and ask it of his self, mistress. 'Tis a smartish lot of work as I've got to attend to here.