SCENE VI.—TRAMP _and his_ WIFE. _Old bags, bundles, and baskets

lying about._ MAN _is binding an old shoe to his foot with a strip of cloth. Foot is on the shoe, not in it._ WOMAN _is picking over rags of different colors_.

WOMAN. Wal, ole man, here we bees agin. ’Tis a year ago this blessed day since Peg ’ticed the little gal from Tomkins’s show.

MAN. ’Twouldn’t ha’ been a year, mammy, only we got no news o’ the reward. Fifty guineas, an’ no questions asked. Wal-a-day! Many’s the weary tramp we’s had that we needn’t a’.

WOMAN. An’ many’s the trinket I’ll buy.

MAN. Now, ole Beauty Spot, you don’t git the spendin’ o’ that gold!

WOMAN. I don’t! Wal, we’ll see! I don’t, do I?—humph!

MAN. But where’s Peg? Meet us by this wood, she said. An’ ’tis past the time set. She must a’ reached the hall two days agone.

WOMAN. If I’d a’ had my say, the child should ha’ been sent by some other body; but Peg she would go along.

MAN. ’Tis a marcy an’ she don’t git fast under lock an’ key.

WOMAN. Wal, the child’s back to where she belongs; an’ lucky she be; for our Peg, that be a great deal too smart for us, will go to mind every crook o’ that young un’s finger, an’ worse’n that. Now I’ll tell ye. I harked one night, late it was, with the stars all so bright, we inside the tent, they two out, nobody stirring, no noise, only corn rustlin’ a-near us, an’ a little matter of a breeze in the trees; an’ what does I hear? Why, that young ’un a-tellin’ our Peg about the angels, an’ more besides, an’ what good was, an’ what wicked was. Does I want a gal o’ mine to hear the like? No, I doesn’t. Peg ain’t the gal she was (_shaking her head_). No, no! She ain’t up to half the smart tricks. (_Enter_ PEG.)

MAN _and_ WOMAN. The money! The gold, the gold! Where’s the gold?

PEG. The lady wants to see you at the hall.

BOTH. Ha!

WOMAN. Be we fools?

MAN. She wants, does she?—ha, ha! She wants!—he, he, he!

PEG. I want, then. And the gold is ready for you there.

WOMAN. What be we a-goin’ to the hall for?

PEG. She has a favor to ask.

WOMAN. Yes: the favor o’ shuttin’ us up.

PEG. The favor o’ lettin’ me be servant to Miss Flora. (WOMAN _nods to_ MAN.)

MAN. Have more sense, gal.

WOMAN. O Peg! an’ would ye go from us, an’ to be a slave?

MAN (_picking up bundles_). ’Tis all a trap to nab us.

PEG. No, there be no trap.

WOMAN. An’ what use of our seein’ the lady?

PEG. She be loath to keep anybody’s child without consent. The little un begs me stay; an’ I must.

WOMAN (_entreatingly_). Don’t, Peg! Let her go. She ben’t one o’ our sort.

PEG. I can’t; an’ the truth must be spoken to ye. I’m tired o’ trampin’, tired o’ beggin’ an’ thievin’, an’ skulkin’ about; an’, what’s more, I can’t lose sight o’ _her_.

WOMAN (_sorrowfully_). O Peg! An’ how could the little un bewitch ye so?

PEG. I can’t tell that. How can I tell what makes me pine for a sight o’ her sweet face, an’ why ’tis that the sound o’ her sweet voice touches me here (_places hand on her heart_), an’ why ’tis I weep when she tells me of the angels and holy things? Will ye go, or no? (_Moves towards door._)

MAN _to_ WOMAN (_confidentially_). Between you an’ me, I’d sooner have Peg there. Don’t ye see? (_Claps hand on her shoulder._) Many’s the nice bit she’ll help us to, or a silver penny, or a spoon.

WOMAN. That she won’t. An’, if she’d do’t, ain’t we got money enough wi’ all that gold? I’d sooner keep my gal. (_Folds arms, and looks down sorrowfully._) But ’twon’t be for long. _(Looks up more cheerfully._) Peg’ll come back to us. She’ll soon pine for the sweet woods agin’. (_Ties up her bundles._)

MAN (_contemptuously_). Enough!—enough gold! (_Picks up baskets._) What can the old gal mean? Enough money?—ha, ha, ha! Enough!—he, he, he!

[_Curtain falls._