Handy, jun. No, no—Ashfield! shou'd he be the father of my pretty Susan—Pray have you a daughter?
Ash. Ees, I have—any thing to zay against she?
Handy, jun. No, no; I think her a charming creature.
Ash. Do ye, faith and troth—Come, that be deadly kind o'ye however—Do you zee, I were frightful she were not agreeable.
Handy, jun. Oh, she's extremely agreeable to me, I assure you.
Ash. I vow, it be quite pratty in you to take notice of Sue. I do hope, zur, breaking your head will break noa squares—She be a coming down to theas parts wi' lady our maid Nelly, as wur—your spouse, zur.
Handy, jun. The devil she is! that's awkward!
Ash. I do hope you'll be kind to Sue when she do come, woolye, zur?
Handy, jun. You may depend on it.
Sir Abel. I dare say you may. Come, Farmer, attend us.