Speed the Plough Part 6

SCENE II.

_Farmer_ ASHFIELD'S _Kitchen._

_Enter_ LADY HANDY _and_ SUSAN.

_Susan._ My dear home, thrice welcome!--What grat.i.tude I feel to your ladys.h.i.+p for this indulgence!

_Lady H._ That's right, child!

_Susan._ And I am sure you partake my pleasure in again visiting a place, where you received every protection and kindness my parents could shew you, for, I remember, while you lived with my father--

_Lady H._ Child! don't put your memory to any fatigue on my account--you may transfer the remembrance of who I was, to aid your more perfect recollection of who I am.

_Susan._ Lady Handy!

_Lady H._ That's right, child!--I am not angry.

_Susan._ [_Looking out._] Ah! I see my dear father and mother coming through the garden.

_Lady H._ Oh! now I shall be caressed to death; but I must endure the shock of their attentions.

_Enter_ FARMER _and_ DAME, _with_ SIR ABEL.

_Ash._ My dear Susan! [_They run to_ SUSAN.

_Dame._ My sweet child! give me a kiss.

_Ash._ Hald thee! Feyther first though--Well, I be as mortal glad to zee thee as never war--and how be'st thee? and how do thee like Lunnun town?

it be a deadly lively place I be tuold.

_Dame._ Is not she a sweet girl?

_Sir Abel._ That she is.

_Lady H._ [_With affected dignity._] Does it occur to any one present, that Lady Handy is in the room?

_Sir Abel._ Oh, Lud! I'm sure, my dear wife, I never forget, that you are in the room.

_Ash._ Drabbit.i.t! I overlooked Lady Nelly, sure enow; but consider, there be zome difference between thee and our own Susan! I be deadly glad to zee thee, however.

_Dame._ So am I, Lady Handy.

_Ash._ Don't ye take it unkind I han't a buss'd thee yet--meant no slight indeed. [_Kisses her._

_Lady H._ Oh! shocking! [_Aside._

_Ash._ No harm I do hope, zur.

_Sir Abel._ None at all.

_Ash._ But dash it, Lady Nelly, what do make thee paint thy vace all over we rud ochre zoo? Be it vor thy spouse to knaw thee?--that be the way I do knaw my sheep.

_Sir Abel._ The flocks of fas.h.i.+on are all marked so, Farmer.

_Ash._ Likely! Drabbit it! thee do make a tightish kind of a ladys.h.i.+p zure enow.

_Dame._ That you do, my lady! you remember the old house?

_Ash._ Aye; and all about it, doant ye? Nelly! my lady!

_Lady H._ Oh! I'm quite shock'd--Susan, child! prepare a room where I may dress before I proceed to the castle. [_Exit_ SUSAN.

_Enter_ HANDY, _jun._

_Handy, jun._ I don't see Susan--I say, Dad, is that my mamma?

_Sir Abel._ Yes--speak to her.

_Handy, jun._ [_Chucking her under the chin_] A fine girl, upon my soul!

_Lady H._ Fine girl, indeed! Is this behaviour!

_Handy, jun._ Oh! beg pardon, most honoured parent. [_She curtsies._]---that's a d.a.m.ned bad curtsey, I can teach you to make a much better curtsey than that!

_Lady H._ You teach me, that am old enough to--hem!

_Handy, jun._ Oh! that toss of the head was very bad indeed--Look at me!--That's the thing!

_Lady H._ Am I to be insulted? Sir Abel, you know I seldom condescend to talk.

_Sir Abel._ Don't say so, my lady, you wrong yourself.

_Lady H._ But, when I do begin, you know not where it will end.

_Sir Abel._ Indeed I do not. [_Aside._

_Lady H._ I insist on receiving all possible respect from your son.

_Handy, jun._ And you shall have it, my dear girl!--Madam, I mean.

_Lady H._ I vow, I am agitated to that degree--Sir Abel! my fan.

_Sir Abel._ Yes, my dear--Bob, look here, a little contrivance of my own. While others carry swords and such like dreadful weapons in their canes, I more gallantly carry a fan. [_Removes the head of his cane, and draws out a fan._] A pretty thought, isn't it? [_Presents it to his lady._]

_Ash._ Some difference between thic stick and mine, beant there, zur?

[_To_ HANDY, _jun._

_Handy, jun._ [_Moving away._] Yes, there is.--[_To Lady H._] Do you call that fanning yourself? [_Taking the fan._] My dear ma'am, this is the way to manuvre a fan.