SCENE III.
An Apartment in the Castle.
Enter Evergreen.
Everg. Was ever any thing so unlucky! Henry to come to the Castle and meet Sir Philip! He should have consulted me; I shall be blamed—but, thank Heaven, I am innocent.
[Sir Abel and Lady Handy without.]
Lady H. I will be treated with respect.
Sir Abel. You shall, my dear.
[They enter.
Lady H. But how! but how, Sir Abel? I repeat it—
Sir Philip. [Aside.] For the fiftieth time.
Lady H. Your son conducts himself with an insolence I won't endure; but you are ruled by him, you have no will of your own.
Sir Abel. I have not, indeed.
Lady H. How contemptible!
Sir Abel. Why, my dear, this is the case—I am like the ass in the fable; and if I am doomed to carry a packsaddle, it is not much matter who drives me.
Lady H. To yield your power to those the law allows you to govern!—
Sir Abel. Is very weak, indeed.
Everg. Lady Handy, your very humble servant; I heartily congratulate you, madam, on your marriage with this worthy gentleman—Sir, I give you joy.
Sir Abel. [Aside.] Not before 'tis wanted.
Everg. Aye, my lady, this match makes up for the imprudence of your first.
Lady H. Hem!
Sir Abel. Eh! What!—what's that—Eh! what do you mean?
Everg. I mean, sir—that Lady Handy's former husband—
Sir Abel. Former husband!—Why, my dear, I never knew—Eh!
Lady H. A mumbling old blockhead!—Didn't you, Sir Abel? Yes; I was rather married many years ago; but my husband went abroad and died.
Sir Abel. Died, did he?
Everg. Yes, sir, he was a servant in the Castle.
Sir Abel. Indeed! So he died—poor fellow!
Lady H. Yes.
Sir Abel. What, you are sure he died, are you?
Lady H. Don't you hear?
Sir Abel. Poor fellow! neglected perhaps—had I known it, he should have had the best advice money could have got.
Lady H. You seem sorry.
Sir Abel. Why, you would not have me pleased at the death of your husband, would you?—a good kind of man?
Everg. Yes; a faithful fellow—rather ruled his wife too severely.
Sir Abel. Did he! [Apart to Evergreen.] Pray do you happen to recollect his manner!—Could you just give a hint of the way he had?
Lady H. Do you want to tyrannize over my poor tender heart?—'Tis too much!
Everg. Bless me! Lady Handy is ill—Salts! salts!
Sir Abel. [Producing an essence box.] Here are salts, or aromatic vinegar, or essence of—
Everg. Any—any.
Sir Abel. Bless me, I can't find the key!
Everg. Pick the lock.
Sir Abel. It can't be picked, it is a patent lock.
Everg. Then break it open, sir.
Sir Abel. It can't be broke open—it is a contrivance of my own—you see, here comes a horizontal bolt, which acts upon a spring, therefore—
Lady H. I may die, while you are describing a horizontal bolt. Do you think you shall close your eyes for a week for this?
Enter Sir Philip Blandford.
Sir Philip. What has occasioned this disturbance?
Lady H. Ask that gentleman.
Sir Abel. Sir, I am accused—
Lady H. Convicted! convicted!
Sir Abel. Well, I will not argue with you about words—because I must bow to your superior practice—But, Sir—
Sir Philip. Pshaw! [Apart.] Lady Handy, some of your people were inquiring for you.
Lady H. Thank you, sir. Come, Sir Abel.
[Exit.
Sir Abel. Yes, my lady—I say [To Evergreen.] cou'dn't you give me a hint of the way he had—
Lady H. [Without.] Sir Abel!
Sir Abel. Coming, my soul!
[Exit.
Sir Philip. So! you have well obeyed my orders in keeping this Henry from my presence.
Everg. I was not to blame, master.
Sir Philip. Has Farmer Ashfield left the Castle?
Everg. No, sir.
Sir Philip. Send him hither. [Exit Evergreen.] That boy must be driven far, far from my sight—but where?—no matter! the world is large enough.
Enter Ashfield.
—Come hither. I believe you hold a farm of mine.
Ash. Ees, zur, I do, at your zarvice.
Sir Philip. I hope a profitable one?
Ash. Zometimes it be, zur. But thic year it be all t'other way as 'twur—but I do hope, as our landlords have a tightish big lump of the good, they'll be zo kind hearted as to take a little bit of the bad.
Sir Philip. It is but reasonable—I conclude then you are in my debt.
Ash. Ees, zur, I be—at your zarvice.
Sir Philip. How much?
Ash. I do owe ye a hundred and fifty pounds—at your zarvice.
Sir Philip. Which you can't pay?
Ash. Not a varthing, zur—at your zarvice.
Sir Philip. Well, I am willing to give you every indulgence.
Ash. Be you, zur? that be deadly kind. Dear heart! it will make my auld dame quite young again, and I don't think helping a poor man will do your honour's health any harm—I don't indeed, zur—I had a thought of speaking to your worship about it—but then, thinks I, the gentleman, mayhap, be one of those that do like to do a good turn, and not have a word zaid about it—zo, zur, if you had not mentioned what I owed you, I am zure I never should—should not, indeed, zur.
Sir Philip. Nay, I will wholly acquit you of the debt, on condition—
Ash. Ees, zur.
Sir Philip. On condition, I say, you instantly turn out that boy—that Henry.
Ash. Turn out Henry!—Ha, ha, ha! Excuse my tittering, zur; but you bees making your vun of I, zure.
Sir Philip. I am not apt to trifle—send him instantly from you, or take the consequences.
Ash. Turn out Henry! I do vow I shou'dn't knaw how to zet about it—I should not, indeed, zur.
Sir Philip. You hear my determination. If you disobey, you know what will follow—I'll leave you to reflect on it.
[Exit.
Ash. Well, zur, I'll argufy the topic, and then you may wait upon me, and I'll tell ye. [Makes the motion of turning out.]—I shou'd be deadly awkward at it, vor zartain—however, I'll put the case—Well! I goes whiztling whoam—noa, drabbit it! I shou'dn't be able to whiztle a bit, I'm zure. Well! I goas whoam, and I zees Henry zitting by my wife, mixing up someit to comfort the wold zoul, and take away the pain of her rheumatics—Very well! Then Henry places a chair vor I by the vire zide, and says—-"Varmer, the horses be fed, the sheep be folded, and you have nothing to do but to zit down, smoke your pipe, and be happy!" Very well! [Becomes affected.] Then I zays—"Henry, you be poor and friendless, zo you must turn out of my houze directly." Very well! then my wife stares at I—reaches her hand towards the vire place, and throws the poker at my head. Very well! then Henry gives a kind of aguish shake, and getting up, sighs from the bottom of his heart—then holding up his head like a king, zays—"Varmer, I have too long been a burden to you—Heaven protect you, as you have me—Farewell! I go." Then I says, "If thee doez I'll be domn'd!" [With great energy.] Hollo! you Mister Sir Philip! you may come in.—
Enter Sir Philip Blandford.
Zur, I have argufied the topic, and it wou'dn't be pratty—zo I can't.
Sir Philip. Can't! absurd!
Ash. Well, zur, there is but another word—I wont.
Sir Philip. Indeed!
Ash. No, zur, I won't—I'd zee myself hang'd first, and you too, zur—I wou'd indeed.
[Bowing.
Sir Philip. You refuse then to obey.
Ash. I do, zur—at your zarvice.
[Bowing.
Sir Philip. Then the law must take its course.
Ash. I be zorry for that too—I be, indeed, zur, but if corn wou'dn't grow I cou'dn't help it; it wer'n't poison'd by the hand that zow'd it. Thic hand, zur, be as free from guilt as your own.
Sir Philip. Oh!
[Sighing deeply.
Ash. It were never held out to clinch a hard bargain, nor will it turn a good lad out into the wide wicked world, because he be poorish a bit. I be zorry you be offended, zur, quite—but come what wool, I'll never hit thic hand against here, but when I be zure that zumeit at inside will jump against it with pleasure. [Bowing.] I do hope you'll repent of all your zins—I do, indeed, zur; and if you shou'd, I'll come and zee you again as friendly as ever—I wool, indeed, zur.
Sir Philip. Your repentance will come too late.
[Exit.
Ash. Thank ye, zur—Good morning to you—I do hope I have made myzel agreeable—and so I'll go whoam.
[Exit.