_Handy, jun._ Aye--What's that?

_Sir Abel._ [_In a whisper._] A coffin! hush!--I'm coming, my dear.

_Handy, jun._ Ha, ha, ha! [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

_A Parlour in_ ASHFIELD'S _House._

_Enter_ ASHFIELD _and Wife._

_Ash._ I tell ye, I zee'd un gi' Susan a letter, an I dan't like it a bit.

_Dame._ Nor I: if shame should come to the poor child--I say, Tummas, what would Mrs. Grundy say then?

_Ash._ Dom Mrs. Grundy; what would my poor wold heart zay? but I be bound it be all innocence.

_Enter_ HENRY.

_Dame._ Ah, Henry! we have not seen thee at home all day.

_Ash._ And I do zomehow fanzie things dan't go zo clever when thee'rt away from farm.

_Henry._ My mind has been greatly agitated.

_Ash._ Well, won't thee go and zee the ploughing match?

_Henry._ Tell me, will not those who obtain prizes be introduced to the Castle?

_Ash._ Ees, and feasted in the great hall.

_Henry._ My good friend, I wish to become a candidate.

_Dame._ You, Henry!

_Henry._ It is time I exerted the faculties Heaven has bestowed on me; and though my heavy fate crushes the proud hopes this heart conceives, still let me prove myself worthy of the place Providence has a.s.signed me.--[_Aside._] Should I succeed, it will bring me to the presence of that man, who (I know not why) seems the dictator of my fate.--[_To them._] Will you furnish me with the means?

_Ash._ Will I!--Thou shalt ha' the best plough in the parish--I wish it were all gould for thy zake--and better cattle there can't be noowhere.

_Henry._ Thanks, my good friend--my benefactor--I have little time for preparation--So receive my grat.i.tude, and farewell. [_Exit._

_Dame._ A blessing go with thee!

_Ash._ I zay, Henry, take Jolly, and Smiler, and Captain, but dan't ye take thic lazy beast Genius--I'll be shot if having vive load an acre on my wheat land could please me more.

_Dame._ Tummas, here comes Susan reading the letter.

_Ash._ How pale she do look! dan't she?

_Dame._ Ah! poor thing!--If----

_Ash._ Hauld thy tongue, woolye? [_They retire._

_Enter_ SUSAN, _reading the letter._

_Susan._ Is it possible! Can the man to whom I've given my heart write thus!--"I am compelled to marry Miss Blandford; but my love for my Susan is unalterable--I hope she will not, for an act of necessity, cease to think with tenderness on her faithful Robert."----Oh man! ungrateful man! it is from our bosoms alone you derive your power; how cruel then to use it, in fixing in those bosoms endless sorrow and despair!----"Still think with tenderness"--Base, dishonourable insinuation--He might have allowed me to esteem him. [_Locks up the letter in a box on the table, and exit weeping._]

[ASHFIELD _and_ DAME _come forward._]

_Ash._ Poor thing!--What can be the matter--She locked up the letter in thic box, and then burst into tears. [_Looks at the box._

_Dame._ Yes, Tummas; she locked it in that box sure enough.

[_Shakes a bunch of keys that hangs at her side._

_Ash._ What be doing, Dame? what be doing?

_Dame._ [_With affected indifference._] Nothing; I was only touching these keys. [_They look at the box and keys significantly._

_Ash._ A good tightish bunch!

_Dame._ Yes; they are of all sizes. [_They look as before._

_Ash._ Indeed!--Well--Eh!--Dame, why dan't ye speak? thou canst chatter fast enow zometimes.

_Dame._ Nay, Tummas--I dare say--if--you know best--but I think I could find----

_Ash._ Well, Eh!--you can just try you knaw [_Greatly agitated._] You can try, just vor the vun on't: but mind, dan't ye make a noise. [_She opens it._] Why, thee hasn't opened it?

_Dame._ Nay, Tummas! you told me!

_Ash._ Did I?

_Dame._ There's the letter!

_Ash._ Well, why do ye gi't to I?--I dan't want it, I'm sure. [_Taking it--he turns it over--she eyes it eagerly--he is about to open it._]--She's coming! she's coming! [_He conceals the letter, they tremble violently._] No, she's gone into t'other room. [_They hang their heads dejectedly, then look at each other._] What mun that feyther an mother be doing, that do blush and tremble at their own dater's coming.

[_Weeps._] Dang it, has she desarv'd it of us--Did she ever deceive us?--Were she not always the most open hearted, dutifullest, kindest--and thee to goa like a dom'd spy, and open her box, poor thing!

_Dame._ Nay, Tummas----

_Ash._ You did--I zaw you do it myzel!--you look like a thief, now--you doe--Hush!--no--Dame--here be the letter--I won't reead a word on't; put it where thee vound it, and as thee vound it.

_Dame._ With all my heart. [_She returns the letter to the box._

_Ash._ [_Embraces her._] Now I can wi' pleasure hug my wold wife, and look my child in the vace again--I'll call her, and ax her about it; and if she dan't speak without disguis.e.m.e.nt, I'll be bound to be shot--Dame, be the colour of sheame off my face yet?--I never zeed thee look ugly before----Susan, my dear Sue, come here a bit, woollye?

_Enter_ SUSAN.