_F. Gam._ She has sent us all presents of good books, [_Gives her one._] to read a chapter in. That, when one's in a passion, gives a mon patience.
_Jane._ Thank her good ladyship.
_F. Gam._ My being incumbred with you both is the cause why old Banks won't give me his sister.
_Jane._ That's a pity. If we must have a step-mother, Madam Amelia would make us a very good one. But I wonder how she can refuse you, feyther, for I'm sure she must think you a very portly man in your scarlet vest and new scratch. You can't think how parsonable you'd look, if you'd only shave twice a week, and put sixpence in the poor-box. [_Retires reading._]
_F. Gam._ However, if Banks still refuses, I have him in my power.
I'll turn them both out of their cottage yonder, and the bailiff shall provide them with a lodging.
_Enter_ BANKS.
Well, neighbour Banks, once for all, am I to marry your sister?
_Banks._ That she best knows.
_F. Gam._ Ay, but she says she won't.
_Banks._ Then I dare say she won't, for though a woman, I never knew her to speak what she didn't think.
_F. Gam._ Then she won't have me? A fine thing this, that you and she, who are little better than paupers, dare be so damn'd saucy!
_Banks._ Why, farmer, I confess we're poor: but while that's the worst our enemies can say of us, we're content.
_F. Gam._ Od, dom it! I wish I had now a good, fair occasion to quarrel with him; I'd make him content with a devil to him; I'd knock'en down, send him to jail and--But I'll be up with him!
_Enter_ SIM.
_Sim._ Oh, feyther, here's one Mr. Lamp, a ring-leader of showfolks come from Andover to act in our village. He wants a barn to play in, if you'll hire him yourn.
_F. Gam._ Surely, boy. I'll never refuse money. But, lest he should engage the great room in the inn, run thou and tell him--Stop, I'll go myself--A short cut through that garden.--
_Banks._ Why you, or any neighbour is welcome to walk in it, or to partake of what it produces, but making it a common thoroughfare is--
_F. Gam._ Here, Sim, kick open that garden gate.
_Banks._ What?
_F. Gam._ Does the lad hear?
_Sim._ Why yes, yes.
_F. Gam._ Does the fool understand.
_Sim._ Dang it, I'm as yet but young; but if understanding teaches me how to wrong my neighbour, I hope I may never live to years of discretion.
_F. Gam._ What, you cur, do you disobey your feyther? Burst open the garden gate, as I command you.
_Sim._ Feyther, he, that made both you and the garden, commands me not to injure the unfortunate.
_F. Gam._ Here's an ungracious rogue! Then I must do it myself.
[_Advances._]
_Banks._ [_Stands before it._] Hold, neighbour. Small as this spot is, it's now my only possession: and the man shall first take my life, who sets a foot in it against my will.
_F. Gam._ I'm in such a passion.--
_Jane._ [_Comes forward._] Feyther, if you're in a passion, read the good book you gave me.
_F. Gam._ Plague of the wench! But, you hussey, I'll--and you, you unlucky bird! [_Exit_ SIM _and_ JANE.
[_A shower of rain._]--_Enter_ ROVER _hastily_.
_Rover._ Zounds! here's a pelting shower, and no shelter! "Poor Tom's a-cold;" I'm wet through--Oh, here's a fair promising house. [_Going to Gammon's._]
_F. Gam._ [_Stops him._] Hold, my lad. Can't let folks in, till I know who are they. There's a public house not above a mile on.
_Banks._ Step in here, young man; my fire is small, but it shall cheer you with a hearty welcome.
_Rover._ [_To_ BANKS.] The poor cottager! [_To_ GAMMON.] And the substantial farmer! [_Kneels._] "Hear, Nature, dear goddess, hear!
If ever you designed to make his corn-fields fruitful, change thy purpose; that, from the blighted ear no grain may fall to fat his _stubble goose_--and, when to town he drives his hogs, so like himself, oh, let him feel the soaking rain; then may he curse his crime too late, and know how sharper than a serpent's tooth 'tis"--Damme, but I'm spouting in the rain all this time. [_Jumps up, and runs into_ BANKS'S.
_F. Gam._ Ay, neighbour, you'll soon scratch a beggar's head, if you harbour every mad vagrant. This may be one of the footpads, that, it seems, have got about the country; but I'll have an execution, and seize on thy goods, this day, my charitable neighbour! Eh, the sun strikes out, quite cleared up.
_Enter_ JANE.
_Jane._ La, feyther, if there is'nt coming down the village--
_F. Gam._ Ah, thou hussey!
_Jane._ Bless me, feyther! No time for anger now. Here's Lady Amaranth's chariot, drawn by her new grand long-tailed horses.--La! it stops.
_F. Gam._ Her ladyship is coming out, and walks this way.--She may wish to rest herself in my house. Jane, we must always make rich folks welcome.
_Jane._ Dear me, I'll run in and set things to rights. But, feyther, your cravat and wig are all got so rumplified with your cross-grained tantarums.--I'll tie your neck in a big beau, and for your wig, if there is any flour in the drudging box--[_Adjusts them, and runs into the house._]
_F. Gam._ Oh! the bailiff too that I engaged.
_Enter_ TWITCH.
_Twitch._ Well, Master Gammon, as you desir'd, I'm come to serve this here warrant of yours, and arrest Master Banks; where is he?
_F. Gam._ Yes, now I be's determined on't--he's--zounds! stand aside, I'll speak to you anon. [_Looking out._]
_Enter_ LADY AMARANTH, ZACHARIAH _following_.
_Lady Am._ Friend, Jane, whom I have taken to be my handmaid, is thy daughter?