Rose. And when my lord would have spoke with her, the maid did turn and fled away quick as a weasel.
Marion. And his lordship off to the fighting when ’twas next morn.
Rose. So now, each maid of us in the village and all around be to dance upon the green come May Day so that my lord may see who ’twas that pleased his fancy.
[Susan comes up and stands quietly listening. She is bare foot and her skirt is ragged, she wears a shawl over her shoulders and her hair is rough and untidy. On her arm she carries a basket containing a few vegetables and other marketings.
Marion. And when he do pitch upon the one, ’tis her as he will wed.
Rose. ’Twill be a thing to sharpen the claws of th’ old countess worse nor ever—that marriage.
Marion. Ah, I reckon as her be mortal angered with all the giddle-gaddle this business have set up among the folk.
Rose. [Regretfully.] I’ve never danced among the trees myself.
Marion. [Sadly.] Nor I, neither, Rose.
Rose. I’d dearly like to be a countess, Marion.