Six Plays by Lady Florence Henrietta Fisher Darwin Part 59

ROSE. And what would that be, pray?

KITTY. Why John, you've done nothing but stand with your back to the grate this last hour.

JOHN. I've sent off Jerry.

ROSE. [Scornfully.] Much good that'll do.

KITTY. We know just how far Jerry will have gone.

JOHN. I told him not to shew hisself unless he could bring a couple of servants back along with him.

ROSE. [Angrily.] You're more foolish than I took you to be, John.

Get you off at once and fetch Jerry from his cider at the Red Bull.

He's not much of a hand about the house, but he's better than no one.

JOHN. [Sighing heavily.] Jeremy's not the man to start his drinking so early in the day.

ROSE. I've caught him at the cask soon after dawn.

KITTY. And so have I, John. How you put up with his independent ways I don't know.

JOHN. Ah, 'tisn't everyone as has such a powerful strong head as Jerry's. He's one that can be trusted to take his fill, and none the worse with him afterwards.

[A knock at the door, which is pushed open by JEREMY.

JEREMY. [From the doorway.] Well, Master John--well, mistress?

ROSE. [Sharply.] Master was just starting out for to fetch you home, Jerry.

JEREMY. [Ignoring her.] Well, master, I've brought a couple back along of me.

ROSE. Ducklings or chickens?

JEREMY. I've gotten them too.

KITTY. Do you mean that you've found some servants for us, Jerry?

JEREMY. Two outside. Female and male.

JOHN. Didn't I tell you so! There's naught that Jerry cannot do.

You'll have a drink for this, my man

ROSE. You may take my word he's had that already, John.

JEREMY. I have, mistress. Whilst they was a packing up the poultry in my basket. Down at the Bull.

ROSE. What sort of a maid is it?

JEREMY. Ah, 'tis for you to tell me that, mistress, when you've had her along of you a bit.

ROSE. And the man?

JEREMY. Much the same as any other male.

ROSE. [Impatiently.] Do you step outside, John, and have a look at them, and if they're suitable bring them in and we'll set them about their work.

[JOHN goes out. KITTY peers through the window.

JEREMY. I reckon I can go off and feed the hilts now. 'Tis the time.

ROSE. Feed the hilts! Indeed you can't do no such thing. O I'm mad with vexation that nothing is well ordered or suitably prepared for Mr. Robert and his fine cousins from Bristol town. Whatever will they say to such a house when they do see it?

JEREMY. I'm sure I don't know.

KITTY. [From the window.] I see the new servants. John is bringing them up the walk. The man's face is hid by his broad hat, but the girl looks neat enough in her cotton gown and sun-bonnet.

[JOHN comes into the room, followed by LUBIN and ISABEL. LUBIN shuffles off his hat, but holds it between his face and the people in the room.

JEREMY. [Pointing to them and speaking to ROSE.] There you are, mistress--man-servant and maid.

ROSE. What do we know about them? Folk picked up by Jerry at the Red Bull.

JEREMY. No, from the roadside.

ROSE. Worser far.

JOHN. No, no, Rose. These young persons were spoken for by Mary Meadows. And 'tis rare fortunate for we to obtain their services at short notice like this.

ROSE. [To ISABEL.] What are you called, my girl?

ISABEL. [Faintly.] Isabel is my name, but I'd sooner you called me Lucy.

ROSE. And that I will. My tongue is used to Lucy. The other is a flighty, fanciful name for a servant.

KITTY. And what is the man called, John?

LUBIN. [Harshly.] I am called William.

KITTY. William and Lucy! Like the ones that ran away this morning.

ROSE. O do not let us waste any more time! Jerry, do you take the man and shew him his work in the back kitchen; and Lucy, come to me and help me with my gown and my hair dressing. We have not a minute to lose.

KITTY. They may be upon us any time now. I'll go out and gather the flowers for the parlour, since you don't want me any more within, Rose.

JOHN. And I'll get and finish Jeremy's work in the yard. 'Tis upside down and round about and no how to-day. But we'll come out of it some time afore next year I reckon.

JEREMY. Don't you ever go for to get married, master. There could never come a worser caddle into a man's days nor matrimony, I count.