Speed the Plough | Page 8

while you lived with my father--
Lady H. Child! don't put your memory to any fatigue on my
account--you may transfer the remembrance of who I was, to aid your
more perfect recollection of who I am.
Susan. Lady Handy!
Lady H. That's right, child!--I am not angry.
Susan. [Looking out.] Ah! I see my dear father and mother coming
through the garden.
Lady H. Oh! now I shall be caressed to death; but I must endure the
shock of their attentions.
Enter FARMER and DAME, with SIR ABEL.
Ash. My dear Susan! [They run to SUSAN.
Dame. My sweet child! give me a kiss.

Ash. Hald thee! Feyther first though--Well, I be as mortal glad to zee
thee as never war--and how be'st thee? and how do thee like Lunnun
town? it be a deadly lively place I be tuold.
Dame. Is not she a sweet girl?
Sir Abel. That she is.
Lady H. [With affected dignity.] Does it occur to any one present, that
Lady Handy is in the room?
Sir Abel. Oh, Lud! I'm sure, my dear wife, I never forget, that you are
in the room.
Ash. Drabbitit! I overlooked Lady Nelly, sure enow; but consider, there
be zome difference between thee and our own Susan! I be deadly glad
to zee thee, however.
Dame. So am I, Lady Handy.
Ash. Don't ye take it unkind I han't a buss'd thee yet--meant no slight
indeed. [Kisses her.
Lady H. Oh! shocking! [Aside.
Ash. No harm I do hope, zur.
Sir Abel. None at all.
Ash. But dash it, Lady Nelly, what do make thee paint thy vace all over
we rud ochre zoo? Be it vor thy spouse to knaw thee?--that be the way I
do knaw my sheep.
Sir Abel. The flocks of fashion are all marked so, Farmer.
Ash. Likely! Drabbit it! thee do make a tightish kind of a ladyship zure
enow.
Dame. That you do, my lady! you remember the old house?

Ash. Aye; and all about it, doant ye? Nelly! my lady!
Lady H. Oh! I'm quite shock'd--Susan, child! prepare a room where I
may dress before I proceed to the castle. [Exit SUSAN.
Enter HANDY, jun.
Handy, jun. I don't see Susan--I say, Dad, is that my mamma?
Sir Abel. Yes--speak to her.
Handy, jun. [Chucking her under the chin] A fine girl, upon my soul!
Lady H. Fine girl, indeed! Is this behaviour!
Handy, jun. Oh! beg pardon, most honoured parent. [She
curtsies.]---that's a damned bad curtsey, I can teach you to make a
much better curtsey than that!
Lady H. You teach me, that am old enough to--hem!
Handy, jun. Oh! that toss of the head was very bad indeed--Look at
me!--That's the thing!
Lady H. Am I to be insulted? Sir Abel, you know I seldom condescend
to talk.
Sir Abel. Don't say so, my lady, you wrong yourself.
Lady H. But, when I do begin, you know not where it will end.
Sir Abel. Indeed I do not. [Aside.
Lady H. I insist on receiving all possible respect from your son.
Handy, jun. And you shall have it, my dear girl!--Madam, I mean.
Lady H. I vow, I am agitated to that degree--Sir Abel! my fan.

Sir Abel. Yes, my dear--Bob, look here, a little contrivance of my own.
While others carry swords and such like dreadful weapons in their
canes, I more gallantly carry a fan. [Removes the head of his cane, and
draws out a fan.] A pretty thought, isn't it? [Presents it to his lady.]
Ash. Some difference between thic stick and mine, beant there, zur? [To
HANDY, jun.
Handy, jun. [Moving away.] Yes, there is.--[To Lady H.] Do you call
that fanning yourself? [Taking the fan.] My dear ma'am, this is the way
to manoeuvre a fan.
Lady H. Sir, you shall find [To HANDY, jun.] I have power enough to
make you repent this behaviour, severely repent it--Susan! [Exit
followed by DAME.
Handy, jun. Bravo! passion becomes her; she does that vastly well.
Sir Abel. Yes, practice makes perfect.
Enter SUSAN.
Susan. Did your ladyship call?--Heavens! Mr. Handy!
Handy, jun. Hush! my angel! be composed! that letter will explain.
[Giving a letter, noticed by ASHFIELD.] Lady Handy wishes to see
you.
Susan. Oh, Robert!
Handy, jun. At present, my love, no more. [Exit Susan, followed by
ASHFIELD.
Sir Abel. What were you saying, sir, to that young woman?
Handy, jun. Nothing particular, sir. Where is Lady Handy going?
Sir Abel. To dress.

Handy, jun. I suppose she has found out the use of money.
Sir Abel. Yes; I'll do her the justice to say she encourages trade.--Why,
do you know, Bob, my best coal pit won't find her in white
muslins--round her neck hangs an hundred acres at least; my noblest
oaks have made wigs