Chapter 11
_An Apartment in the Castle._
_Enter_ EVERGREEN.
_Everg._ Was ever any thing so unlucky! Henry to come to the Castle and meet Sir Philip! He should have consulted me; I shall be blamed--but, thank Heaven, I am innocent.
[SIR ABEL _and_ LADY HANDY _without._]
_Lady H._ I will be treated with respect.
_Sir Abel._ You shall, my dear. [_They enter._
_Lady H._ But how! but how, Sir Abel? I repeat it--
_Sir Philip._ [_Aside._] For the fiftieth time.
_Lady H._ Your son conducts himself with an insolence I won't endure; but you are ruled by him, you have no will of your own.
_Sir Abel._ I have not, indeed.
_Lady H._ How contemptible!
_Sir Abel._ Why, my dear, this is the case--I am like the ass in the fable; and if I am doomed to carry a packsaddle, it is not much matter who drives me.
_Lady H._ To yield your power to those the law allows you to govern!--
_Sir Abel._ Is very weak, indeed.
_Everg._ Lady Handy, your very humble servant; I heartily congratulate you, madam, on your marriage with this worthy gentleman--Sir, I give you joy.
_Sir Abel._ [_Aside._] Not before 'tis wanted.
_Everg._ Aye, my lady, this match makes up for the imprudence of your first.
_Lady H._ Hem!
_Sir Abel._ Eh! What!--what's that--Eh! what do you mean?
_Everg._ I mean, sir--that Lady Handy's former husband--
_Sir Abel._ Former husband!--Why, my dear, I never knew--Eh!
_Lady H._ A mumbling old blockhead!--Didn't you, Sir Abel? Yes; I was rather married many years ago; but my husband went abroad and died.
_Sir Abel._ Died, did he?
_Everg._ Yes, sir, he was a servant in the Castle.
_Sir Abel._ Indeed! So he died--poor fellow!
_Lady H._ Yes.
_Sir Abel._ What, you are sure he died, are you?
_Lady H._ Don't you hear?
_Sir Abel._ Poor fellow! neglected perhaps--had I known it, he should have had the best advice money could have got.
_Lady H._ You seem sorry.
_Sir Abel._ Why, you would not have me pleased at the death of your husband, would you?--a good kind of man?
_Everg._ Yes; a faithful fellow--rather ruled his wife too severely.
_Sir Abel._ Did he! [_Apart to_ EVERGREEN.] Pray do you happen to recollect his manner!--Could you just give a hint of the way he had?
_Lady H._ Do you want to tyrannize over my poor tender heart?--'Tis too much!
_Everg._ Bless me! Lady Handy is ill--Salts! salts!
_Sir Abel._ [_Producing an essence box._] Here are salts, or aromatic vinegar, or essence of--
_Everg._ Any--any.
_Sir Abel._ Bless me, I can't find the key!
_Everg._ Pick the lock.
_Sir Abel._ It can't be picked, it is a patent lock.
_Everg._ Then break it open, sir.
_Sir Abel._ It can't be broke open--it is a contrivance of my own--you see, here comes a horizontal bolt, which acts upon a spring, therefore--
_Lady H._ I may die, while you are describing a horizontal bolt. Do you think you shall close your eyes for a week for this?
_Enter_ SIR PHILIP BLANDFORD.
_Sir Philip._ What has occasioned this disturbance?
_Lady H._ Ask that gentleman.
_Sir Abel._ Sir, I am accused--
_Lady H._ Convicted! convicted!
_Sir Abel._ Well, I will not argue with you about words--because I must bow to your superior practice--But, Sir--
_Sir Philip._ Pshaw! [_Apart._] Lady Handy, some of your people were inquiring for you.
_Lady H._ Thank you, sir. Come, Sir Abel. [_Exit._
_Sir Abel._ Yes, my lady--I say [_To_ EVERGREEN.] cou'dn't you give me a hint of the way he had--
_Lady H._ [_Without._] Sir Abel!
_Sir Abel._ Coming, my soul! [_Exit._
_Sir Philip._ So! you have well obeyed my orders in keeping this Henry from my presence.
_Everg._ I was not to blame, master.
_Sir Philip._ Has Farmer Ashfield left the Castle?
_Everg._ No, sir.
_Sir Philip._ Send him hither. [_Exit_ EVERGREEN.] That boy must be driven far, far from my sight--but where?--no matter! the world is large enough.
_Enter_ ASHFIELD.
--Come hither. I believe you hold a farm of mine.
_Ash._ Ees, zur, I do, at your zarvice.
_Sir Philip._ I hope a profitable one?
_Ash._ Zometimes it be, zur. But thic year it be all t'other way as 'twur--but I do hope, as our landlords have a tightish big lump of the good, they'll be zo kind hearted as to take a little bit of the bad.
_Sir Philip._ It is but reasonable--I conclude then you are in my debt.
_Ash._ Ees, zur, I be--at your zarvice.
_Sir Philip._ How much?
_Ash._ I do owe ye a hundred and fifty pounds--at your zarvice.
_Sir Philip._ Which you can't pay?
_Ash._ Not a varthing, zur--at your zarvice.
_Sir Philip._ Well, I am willing to give you every indulgence.
_Ash._ Be you, zur? that be deadly kind. Dear heart! it will make my auld dame quite young again, and I don't think helping a poor man will do your honour's health any harm--I don't indeed, zur--I had a thought of speaking to your worship about it--but then, thinks I, the gentleman, mayhap, be one of those that do like to do a good turn, and not have a word zaid about it--zo, zur, if you had not mentioned what I owed you, I am zure I never should--should not, indeed, zur.
_Sir Philip._ Nay, I will wholly acquit you of the debt, on condition--
_Ash._ Ees, zur.
_Sir Philip._ On condition, I say, you instantly turn out that boy--that Henry.
_Ash._ Turn out Henry!--Ha, ha, ha! Excuse my tittering, zur; but you bees making your vun of I, zure.
_Sir Philip._ I am not apt to trifle--send him instantly from you, or take the consequences.
_Ash._ Turn out Henry! I do vow I shou'dn't knaw how to zet about it--I should not, indeed, zur.
_Sir Philip._ You hear my determination. If you disobey, you know what will follow--I'll leave you to reflect on it. [_Exit._
_Ash._ Well, zur, I'll argufy the topic, and then you may wait upon me, and I'll tell ye. [_Makes the motion of turning out._]--I shou'd be deadly awkward at it, vor zartain--however, I'll put the case--Well! I goes whiztling whoam--noa, drabbit it! I shou'dn't be able to whiztle a bit, I'm zure. Well! I goas whoam, and I zees Henry zitting by my wife, mixing up someit to comfort the wold zoul, and take away the pain of her rheumatics--Very well! Then Henry places a chair vor I by the vire zide, and says---"Varmer, the horses be fed, the sheep be folded, and you have nothing to do but to zit down, smoke your pipe, and be happy!" Very well! [_Becomes affected._] Then I zays--"Henry, you be poor and friendless, zo you must turn out of my houze directly." Very well! then my wife stares at I--reaches her hand towards the vire place, and throws the poker at my head. Very well! then Henry gives a kind of aguish shake, and getting up, sighs from the bottom of his heart--then holding up his head like a king, zays--"Varmer, I have too long been a burden to you--Heaven protect you, as you have me--Farewell! I go." Then I says, "If thee doez I'll be domn'd!" [_With great energy._] Hollo! you Mister Sir Philip! you may come in.--
_Enter_ SIR PHILIP BLANDFORD.
Zur, I have argufied the topic, and it wou'dn't be pratty--zo I can't.
_Sir Philip._ Can't! absurd!
_Ash._ Well, zur, there is but another word--I wont.
_Sir Philip._ Indeed!
_Ash._ No, zur, I won't--I'd zee myself hang'd first, and you too, zur--I wou'd indeed. [_Bowing._
_Sir Philip._ You refuse then to obey.
_Ash._ I do, zur--at your zarvice. [_Bowing._
_Sir Philip._ Then the law must take its course.
_Ash._ I be zorry for that too--I be, indeed, zur, but if corn wou'dn't grow I cou'dn't help it; it wer'n't poison'd by the hand that zow'd it. Thic hand, zur, be as free from guilt as your own.
_Sir Philip._ Oh! [_Sighing deeply._
_Ash._ It were never held out to clinch a hard bargain, nor will it turn a good lad out into the wide wicked world, because he be poorish a bit. I be zorry you be offended, zur, quite--but come what wool, I'll never hit thic hand against here, but when I be zure that zumeit at inside will jump against it with pleasure. [_Bowing._] I do hope you'll repent of all your zins--I do, indeed, zur; and if you shou'd, I'll come and zee you again as friendly as ever--I wool, indeed, zur.
_Sir Philip._ Your repentance will come too late. [_Exit._
_Ash._ Thank ye, zur--Good morning to you--I do hope I have made myzel agreeable--and so I'll go whoam. [_Exit._
ACT THE FOURTH.