ACT II.
Scene.—The interior of a picturesque old forge. The forge is open at the back, and Druce’s cottage is seen through opening. There is a path off. Dan’l Druce, a hearty-looking old man of sixty-four, is discovered hammering lustily at a piece of red-hot iron on his anvil.
Dan. (laying down his hammer). Whew! That job’s done! Eh, but I’m that breathed, surelie. Why, Dan’l Druce, if thou’rt worked out like this at twelve o’ noon, it’s time ye thought of getting a partner into the old forge. But somehow the forge fire seems to strike hotter than o’ yore; and the iron of to-day takes more hammerin’ than the iron o’ thirty year ago. Mebbe I’m growin’ old. Well, a body can’t hope to live sixty-four year, and leave off a young un arter all. ’Twouldn’t be fair on the boys—no, nor the gals neither—eh, Dorothy?
Enter Dorothy running.
Dor. Oh, father, thou shouldst see the Green, by Raby’s End. The village is brave with banners and garlands. I have helped to deck it, father. And Master Maynard, the constable, is mounted on an ale cask to receive Sir Jasper Combe, who should pass on his way to Combe-Raven in half an hour; and the band of music hath arrived from Norwich, and they’re all on ale casks too; and they are to play stirring music while the constable readeth an address to his worship!
Dan. It is a merciful provision, Dorothy, lest the address be heard. So Sir Jasper will be here in half an hour, eh?
Dor. Yes, and I long to see him. I have heard that he is a grave gentleman of goodly presence, and beyond measure kindly. He is a righteous landlord, too, so folk say, and giveth largely to the poor.
Dan. He is needed in these parts, for the poor were sorely used by the late squire. I shall be right glad to welcome him, but (wearily) I’ll not go to Raby’s End to do it. (Sits on stool.)
Dor. Art thou wearied, father?