Act II - Page 2

debts, and my father's breaking down, and his blindness. How could I think of leaving him?

DOBSON. Eh, but I be well to do; and if ye would nobbut hev me, I would taäke the owd blind man to my oän fireside. You should hev him allus wi' ye.

DORA. You are generous, but it cannot be. I cannot love you; nay, I think I never can be brought to love any man. It seems to me that I hate men, ever since my sister left us. Oh, see here. (Pulls out a letter.) I wear it next my heart. Poor sister, I had it five years ago. 'Dearest Dora,--I have lost myself, and am lost for ever to you and my poor father. I thought Mr. Edgar the best of men, and he has proved himself the worst. Seek not for me, or you may find me at the bottom of the river.--EVA.'

DOBSON. Be that my fault?

DORA. No; but how should I, with this grief still at my heart, take to the milking of your cows, the fatting of your calves, the making of your butter, and the managing of your poultry?

DOBSON. Naä'y, but I hev an owd woman as 'ud see to all that; and you should sit i' your oän parlour quite like a laädy, ye should!

DORA. It cannot be.

DOBSON. And plaäy the pianner, if ye liked, all daäy long, like a laädy, ye should an' all.

DORA. It cannot be.

DOBSON. And I would loove tha moor nor ony gentleman 'ud I loove tha.

DORA. No, no; it cannot be.

DOBSON. And p'raps ye hears 'at I soomtimes taäkes a drop too much; but that be all along o' you, Miss, because ye weänt hev me; but, if ye would, I could put all that o' one side eäsy anew.

DORA. Cannot you understand plain words, Mr. Dobson? I tell you, it cannot be.

DOBSON. Eh, lass! Thy feyther eddicated his darters to marry gentlefoälk, and see what's coomed on it.

DORA. That is enough, Farmer Dobson. You have shown me that, though fortune had born you into the estate of a gentleman, you would still have been Farmer Dobson. You had better attend to your hayfield. Good afternoon. [Exit.

DOBSON. 'Farmer Dobson'! Well, I be Farmer Dobson; but I thinks Farmer Dobson's dog 'ud ha' knaw'd better nor to cast her sister's misfortin inter 'er teeth arter she'd been a-readin' me the letter wi' 'er voice a-shaäkin', and the drop in 'er eye. Theer she goäs! Shall I foller 'er and ax 'er to maäke it up? Noä, not yet. Let 'er cool upon it; I likes 'er all the better fur taäkin' me down, like a laädy, as she be. Farmer Dobson! I be Farmer Dobson, sewer anew; but if iver I cooms upo' Gentleman Hedgar ageän, and doänt laäy my cartwhip athurt 'is shou'ders, why then I beänt Farmer Dobson, but summun else--blaäme't if I beänt!

Enter HAYMAKERS with a load of hay.

The last on it, eh?

1ST HAYMAKER. Yeas.

DOBSON. Hoäm wi' it, then. [Exit