Enter Dorothy from cottage.
Dor. Oh, father, a gentleman, whose horse hath cast a shoe, hath need of thy services in the yard.
Dan. A gentleman, eh?
Dor. It is Master Reuben Haines, Sir Jasper’s bailiff. He passed this way twice before to prepare for Sir Jasper’s arrival; but that was when thou wast away at Norwich.
Dan. And what manner of man is he?
Dor. A strange man, full of unmeaning jests, who maketh faces at me which doth fright me much, and he rolleth his eyes in a manner fearful to behold.
Dan. A town fashion, Dolly, who knows? Ha! ha! Take no heed of his faces. Make him welcome, for there’s no foreseein’; it may serve us, one day, to stand well with the bailiff! Come, Geoffrey, and lend me a hand. I’ll see to his horse.
[Geoffrey kisses Dorothy and exit with Dan’l.
Enter Reuben in riding dress, from cottage.
Reu. Good morrow, pretty Mistress Dorothy! We have not forgotten one another, I see! And how has time sped with thee since I saw thee last? Has it crept, crawled, drawled, dragged, and dawdled for lack of a certain merry old man who whiled away a certain half-hour with thee two months since with curious quip, quaint retort, and surprising conundrum? Dost thou remember that half-hour, Dorothy? I do. In the course of it I said many rare things to thee, complimentary and insinuating things of amatory significance and connubial import, neatly disguised, or, as one may say, embalmed, in an outer husk of delicate epigram. And thou didst listen! Ye gods! how thou didst listen! I love a good listener.