A Lodge belonging to the Castle.
Dame Ashfield discovered making lace.
Enter Handy, jun.
Handy, jun. A singular situation this my old dad has placed me in; brought me here to marry a woman of fashion and beauty, while I have been professing, and I've a notion feeling, the most ardent love for the pretty Susan Ashfield—Propriety says, take Miss Blandford—Love says, take Susan—Fashion says, take both—but would Susan consent to such an arrangement?—and if she refused, would I consent to part with her?—Oh, time enough to put that question, when the previous one is disposed of—[Seeing Dame.] How do you do? How do you do?—Making lace, I perceive—Is it a common employment, here?
Dame. Oh, no, sir? nobody can make it in these parts but myself!—Mrs. Grundy, indeed, pretends—but, poor woman! she knows no more of it than you do.
Handy, jun. Than I do! that's vastly well;—My dear madam, I passed two months at Mechlin for the express purpose.
Dame. Indeed!
Handy, jun. You don't do it right—now I can do it much better than that. Give me leave, and I'll shew you the true Mechlin method [Turns the cushion round, kneels down, and begins working.] First you see, so—then, so—
Enter Sir Abel, and Miss Blandford.
Sir Abel. I vow, Miss Blandford, fair as I ever thought you, the air of your native land has given additional lustre to your charms!—[Aside.] If my wife looked so—Ah! but where can Bob be?—You must know, miss, my son is a very clever fellow! you won't find him wasting his time in boyish frivolity!—no; you will find him—