Eld. 'Tis true—always barring that my man don't come back to claim me.
Ors. The fishes keep him! [Re-enter Stephen] Ah!
Eld. [Whispers sweetly to Orson, then discovers Stephen] O, here he is! Now, Orson, I know you'll be friends wi' Mr. Stephen. Just to please me now. You see, sir, Orson's been courtin' me many a year, and I had just about give in like a weak woman, when you came and got me all upset somehow, lookin' so much like my man who was drowned at sea, an' his own name too. I did lose my head so at times I could 'a' sworn you were my very man, but what you said about Liz o' Logan brought me to my right mind again, and Orson is willing to make up, and I'm sure we can all be friends, only me and Orson won't be presumin', an' shame take me to think I ever looked so high as a king's man wi' an advancement—though Orson is a man of dignity now—and—sit down, Orson! [Sits at table and pours ale for herself and Orson] We take a snip together about this time every mornin'. Orson's got no quarrel with the ale cost, and he does love my raisin' o' bread and cake.
Ors. And who doesn't let him starve in a ditch! We don't ask you to sit, Mister Stephen. We know our place, and hope you know yours.
Eld. Ay, a king's man must keep his head high.
Ors. High, my love?
Eld. I mean with an advancement.
Ors. 'Tis well. You know me, Eldra.
Eld. I hope I do, Orson.
Ors. And you must own, my dear, that you came to your right mind in very good time.