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_A room in_ ASHFIELD'S _House._
_Dame_ ASHFIELD _discovered at work with her needle,_ HENRY _sitting by her._
_Dame._ Come, come, Henry, you'll fret yourself ill, child. If Sir Philip will not be kind to you, you are but where you were.
_Henry._ [_Rising._] My peace of mind is gone for ever. Sir Philip may have cause for hate;--spite of his unkindness to me, my heart seeks to find excuses for him--oh! that heart doats on his lovely daughter.
_Dame._ [_Looking out._] Here comes Tummas home at last. Heyday what's the matter with the man! He doesn't seem to know the way into his own house.
_Enter_ ASHFIELD, _musing, he stumbles against a chair._
Tummas, my dear Tummas, what's the matter?
_Ash._ [_Not attending._] It be lucky vor he I be's zoo pratty behaved, or dom if I-- [_Doubling his fist._
_Dame._ Who--what?
_Ash._ Nothing at all; where's Henry?
_Henry._ Here, farmer.
_Ash._ Thee woultn't leave us, Henry, wou't?
_Henry._ Leave you! What, leave you now, when by my exertion I can pay off part of the debt of grat.i.tude I owe you? oh, no!
_Ash._ Nay, it were not vor that I axed, I promise thee; come, gi'us thy hand on't then. [_Shaking hands._] Now, I'll tell ye. Zur Philip did send vor I about the money I do owe 'un; and said as how he'd make all straight between us----
_Dame._ That was kind.
_Ash._ Ees, deadly kind. Make all straight on condition I did turn Henry out o'my doors.
_Dame._ What!
_Henry._ Where will his hatred cease?
_Dame._ And what did you say, Tummas?
_Ash._ Why I zivelly tould un, if it were agreeable to he to behave like a brute, it were agreeable to I to behave like a man.
_Dame._ That was right. I wou'd have told him a great deal more.
_Ash._ Ah! likely. Then a' zaid I shou'd ha' a bit a laa vor my pains.
_Henry._ And do you imagine I will see you suffer on my account? No--I will remove this hated form---- [_Going._]
_Ash._ No, but thee shat'un--thee shat'un--I tell thee. Thee have givun me thy hand on't, and dom'me if thee sha't budge one step out of this house. Drabbit it! what can he do? he can't send us to jail. Why, I have corn will zell for half the money I do owe'un--and han't I cattle and sheep? deadly lean to be zure--and han't I a thumping zilver watch, almost as big as thy head? and Dame here a got----How many silk gowns have thee got, dame!
_Dame._ Three, Tummas--and sell them all--and I'll go to church in a stuff one--and let Mrs. Grundy turn up her nose as much as she pleases.
_Henry._ Oh, my friends, my heart is full. Yet a day will come, when this heart will prove its grat.i.tude.
_Dame._ That day, Henry, is every day.
_Ash._ Dang it! never be down hearted. I do know as well as can be, zome good luck will turn up. All the way I comed whoam I looked to vind a purse in the path. But I didn't though. [_A knocking at the door._]
_Dame._ Ah! here they are, coming to sell I suppose--
_Ash._ Lettun--lettun zeize and zell; we ha gotten here [_Striking his breast._] what we won't zell, and they can't zell. [_Knocking again._]
Come in--dang it, don't ye be shy.
_Enter_ MORRINGTON _and_ GERALD.
_Henry._ Ah! the strangers I saw this morning. These are not officers of law.
_Ash._ Noa!--Walk in, gemmen. Glad to zee ye wi' all my heart and zoul.
Come, dame, spread a cloth, bring out cold meat, and a mug of beer.
_Gerald._ [_To_ MORRINGTON.] That is the boy. [MORRINGTON _nods._]
_Ash._ Take a chair, zur.
_Mor._ I thank, and admire your hospitality. Don't trouble yourself, good woman.--I am not inclined to eat.
_Ash._ That be the case here. To-day none o'we be auver hungry: misfortin be apt to stay the stomach confoundedly--
_Mor._ Has misfortune reached this humble dwelling?
_Ash._ Ees, zur. I do think vor my part it do work its way in every where.
_Mor._ Well, never despair.
_Ash._ I never do, zur. It is not my way. When the sun do s.h.i.+ne I never think of voul weather, not I; and when it do begin to rain, I always think that's a zure zign it will give auver.
_Mor._ Is that young man your son?
_Ash._ No, zur--I do wish he were wi' all my heart and zoul.
_Gerald._ [_To_ MORRINGTON.] Sir, remember.
_Mor._ Doubt not my prudence. Young man, your appearance interests me;--how can I serve you?
_Henry._ By informing me who are my parents.
_Mor._ That I cannot do.
_Henry._ Then, by removing from me the hatred of Sir Philip Blandford.
_Mor._ Does Sir Philip hate you?
