Six Plays by Lady Florence Henrietta Fisher Darwin Part 12

GILES. Your love, Millie. And is that still mine?

MILLIE. It always has been yours, Giles. O I will go with you so gladly in poor clothing and in hunger all over the face of the earth.

[She goes to him and clasps his arm; and, standing by his side, faces all those in the room.

ELIZABETH. [Angrily.] Please to come to your right senses, Millie.

DANIEL. Come, Andrew, set your foot down as I've set mine.

ANDREW. Nay, master. There's naught left for me to say. The heart does shew us better nor all words which way we have to travel.

MAY. And are you going to marry a beggar man instead of Andrew, who looks so brave and fine in his wedding clothes, Millie?

MILLIE. I am going to marry him I have always loved, May--and--O Andrew, I never bore you malice, though I did say cruel and hard words to you sometimes.--But you'll not remember me always--you will find gladness too, some day.

ANDREW. I count as I shall, Millie.

DANIEL. Come, come, I'll have none of this--my daughter wed to a beggar off the highway! Mother, 'tis time you had a word here.

ELIZABETH. No, Father, I'll leave you to manage this affair. 'Tis you who have spoiled Mill and brought her up so wayward and unruly, and 'tis to you I look for to get us out of this unpleasant position.

MAY. Dear Millie--don't wed my brother Giles. Why, look at his ragged smock and his bare feet.

MILLIE. I shall be proud to go bare too, so long as I am by his side, May.

[GILES goes to the door and blows his whistle three times and loudly.

MAY. What's that for, Giles?

GILES. You shall soon see, little May.

DANIEL. I'll be hanged if I'll stand any more of this caddling nonsense. Here, Mill--the trap's come to the door. Into it with you, I say.

GILES. I beg you to wait a moment, master.

DANIEL. Wait!--'Tis a sight too long as we have waited this day. If all had been as I'd planned, we should have been to church by now.

But womenfolk, there be no depending on they. No, and that there bain't.

[GEORGE, JOHN and the OLD MAN come up. GEORGE and JOHN carry their packets and the OLD MAN has GILES' coat and hat over his arm.

ELIZABETH. And who are these persons, Giles?

[GEORGE and JOHN set down their burdens on the floor and begin to mop their faces. The OLD MAN stretches out his fine coat and hat and buckled shoes to GILES.

OLD MAN. Here they be, my lord, and I warrant as you'll feel more homely like in they, nor what you've got upon you now. [GILES takes the things from him.

GILES. Thank you, old master. [He turns to MILLIE.] Let me go into the other room, Millie. I will not keep you waiting longer than a few moments.

[He goes out.

ELIZABETH. [To GEORGE.] And who may you be, I should like to know?

You appear to be making very free with my parlour.

GEORGE. We be the servants what wait upon Master Giles, old Missis.

ELIZABETH. Old Missis, indeed. Father, you shall speak to these persons.

DANIEL. Well, my men. I scarce do know whether I be a-standing on my head or upon my heels, and that's the truth 'tis.

GEORGE. Ah, and that I can well understand, master, for I'm a married man myself, and my woman has a tongue to her head very similar to that of th' old missis yonder--so I know what 'tis.

ELIZABETH. Put them both out of the door, Father, do you hear me?

'Tis to the cider as they've been getting. That's clear.

MILLIE. My good friends, what is it that you carry in those bundles there?

GEORGE. 'Tis gold in mine.

JOHN. And silver here.

ELIZABETH. Depend upon it 'tis two wicked thieves we have got among us, flying from justice.

MILLIE. No, no--did not you hear them say, their master is Giles.

GEORGE. And a better master never trod the earth.

JOHN. And a finer or a richer gentleman I never want to see.

ELIZABETH. Do you hear that, Father? O you shocking liars--'tis stolen goods that you've been and brought to our innocent house this day. But, Father, do you up and fetch in the constable, do you hear?

MAY. O I'll run. I shall love to see them going off to gaol.

MILLIE. Be quiet, May. Can't you all see how 'tis. Giles has done the cruel hard task set him by Father--and is back again with the bushel of silver and that of gold to claim my hand. [GILES enters.]

But Giles--I'd have given it to you had you come to me poor and forlorn and ragged, for my love has never wandered from you in all this long time.

ANDREW. No, Giles--and that it has not. Millie has never given me one kind word nor one gentle look all the years that I've been courting of her, and that's the truth. And you can call witness to it if you care.

GILES. Uncle, Aunt, I've done the task you set me years ago--and now I claim my reward. I went from this house a poor wretch, with nothing but the hopeless love in my heart to feed and sustain me. I have returned with all that the world can give me of riches and prosperity. Will you now let me be the husband of your daughter?

MILLIE. O say ye, Uncle, for look how fine and grand he is in his coat--and the bags are stuffed full to the brim and 'tis with gold and silver.

ELIZABETH. Well--'tis a respectabler end than I thought as you'd come to, Giles. And different nor what you deserved.

DANIEL. Come, come, Mother.--The fewer words to this, the better.

Giles, my boy--get you into the trap and take her along to the church and drive smart.

ANDREW. Annet--will you come there with me too?

ANNET. O Andrew--what are you saying?