Susan. Oh, no! I've the strongest reasons to the contrary!
Ash. Well, Sue, I won't—I'll behave as pratty as I always do—but it be time to go to the green, and zee the fine zights—How I do hate the noise of thic dom'd bunch of keys—But bless thee, my child—dan't forget that vartue to a young woman be vor all the world like—like—Dang it, I ha' gotten it all in my head; but zomehow—I can't talk it—but vartue be to a young woman what corn be to a blade o'wheat, do you zee; for while the corn be there it be glorious to the eye, and it be called the staff of life; but take that treasure away, and what do remain? why nought but thic worthless straw that man and beast do tread upon.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
An extensive view of a cultivated country—A ploughed field in the centre, in which are seen six different ploughs and horses—At one side a handsome tent—A number of country people assembled.
Enter Ashfield and Dame.
Ash. Make way, make way for the gentry! and, do ye hear, behave pratty as I do—Dang thee, stond back, or I'll knack thee down, I wool.
Enter Sir Abel, and Miss Blandford, with Servants.
Sir Abel. It is very kind of you to honour our rustic festivities with your presence.
Miss B. Pray, Sir Abel, where is your son?