Geof. That’s the farmer’s daughter.
Dor. Is she fair?
Geof. Very fair. What then?
Dor. Why, then, thou wouldst not go.
Geof. (slyly). And wherefore not?
Dor. Wherefore not? Oh, well, wherefore not indeed! Go to Susan if thou wilt, Geoffrey. It is not for me to hinder thee!
Geof. Well, then, I would not go. And so we live on—happy—very, very happy, for, say a year. But a change is at hand. My crops fail, my cattle die, and one evil night my homestead is burnt to the ground, and I am penniless!
Dor. Oh!
Geof. So there is nothing for it but to go to sea again, for three long years!
Dor. No, no, Geoffrey—oh no!