Dor. He is kind to me and to all. In very truth I think he must be the best man in the whole world.
Jas. And thou tendest him very carefully?
Dor. Yes, indeed. I am with him from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof; and we love each other with a love that passeth all telling.
Jas. (after a pause). Dorothy, I once had a little child who promised to grow up to be just such a pretty lass as thou. But we—we were separated many years ago, and I have never seen her since!
Dor. Oh, poor gentleman!
Jas. Poor, indeed—for I declare to thee, Dorothy, that I would give all my substance, were it ten times what it is, to have her with me in my old age. But though I have sought her high and low for many a weary year, I have found no tidings of her; and so I must needs go on to the end—a solitary old man, uncared for and alone! There’s a doleful tale, little Dorothy!
Dor. Indeed, it is passing sad, and my heart bleeds for your worship. I am even more grieved for thy daughter, who hath lost the fostering care and guidance of so worthy a gentleman. I am sure she would have loved your worship very dearly.
Jas. (moved). I know not. It may be so, and yet—I showed myself but a careless and unloving father to her when we were parted. But her mother died of grief—and—and I would fain make amends, I would fain make amends! Yes, Dorothy, it would have gone hard with me but I would have made her love me!
Enter Dan’l.
Who is this good fellow?