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_Handy, jun._ Any thorns?
_Sir Abel._ A few.
_Handy, jun._ I must be introduced--where is she?
_Sir Abel._ Not within thirty miles; for I don't hear her.
_Ash._ Ha, ha, ha!
_Handy, jun._ Who is that?
_Sir Abel._ Oh, a pretty behaved t.i.ttering friend of mine.
_Ash._ Zarvent, zur--No offence, I do hope--Could not help t.i.ttering a bit at Nelly--when she were zarvent maid wi' I, she had a tightish prattle wi' her, that's vor zartain.
_Handy, jun._ Oh! so then my honoured mamma was the servant of this t.i.ttering gentleman--I say, father, perhaps she has not lost the tightish prattle he speaks of.
_Sir Abel._ My dear boy, come here--Prattle! I say did you ever live next door to a pewterer's?--that's all--you understand me--did you ever hear a dozen fire-engines full gallop?--were you ever at Billingsgate in the sprat season?--or----
_Handy, jun._ Ha, ha!
_Sir Abel._ Nay, don't laugh, Bob.
_Handy, jun._ Indeed, sir, you think of it too seriously. The storm, I dare say, soon blows over.
_Sir Abel._ Soon! you know what a trade wind is, don't you, Bob? why, she thinks no more of the latter end of her speech, than she does of the latter end of her life--
_Handy, jun._ Ha! ha!
_Sir Abel._ But I won't be laugh'd at--I'll knock any man down that laughs! Bob, if you can say any thing pleasant, I'll trouble you; if not, do what my wife can't--hold your tongue.
_Handy, jun._ I'll shew you what I can do--I'll amuse you with this native. [_Apart._
_Sir Abel._ Do--do--quiz him--at him, Bob.
_Handy, jun._ I say, Farmer, you are a set of jolly fellows here, an't you?
_Ash._ Ees, zur, deadly jolly--excepting when we be otherwise, and then we bean't.
_Handy, jun._ Play at cricket, don't you?
_Ash._ Ees, zur; we Hampshire lads conceat we can bowl a bit or thereabouts.
_Handy, jun._ And cudgel too, I suppose?
_Sir Abel._ At him, Bob.
_Ash._ Ees, zur, we sometimes break oon another's heads, by way of being agreeable, and the like o'that.
_Handy, jun._ Understand all the guards? [_Putting himself in an att.i.tude of cudgelling._]
_Ash._ Can't zay I do, zur.
_Handy, jun._ What! hit in this way, eh? [_Makes a hit at_ ASHFIELD, _which he parries, and hits young_ HANDY _violently._]
_Ash._ Noa, zur, we do hit thic way.
_Handy, jun._ Zounds and fury!
_Sir Abel._ Why, Bob, he has broke your head.
_Handy, jun._ Yes; he rather hit me--he somehow----
_Sir Abel._ He did indeed, Bob.
_Handy, jun._ d.a.m.n him--The fact is, I am out of practice.
_Ash._ You need not be, zur; I'll gi' ye a belly full any day, wi' all my heart and soul.
_Handy, jun._ No, no, thank you--Farmer, what's your name?
_Ash._ My name be Tummas Ashfield--any thing to say against my name?
[_Threatening._
_Handy, jun._ No, no--Ashfield! shou'd he be the father of my pretty Susan--Pray have you a daughter?
_Ash._ Ees, I have--any thing to zay against she?
_Handy, jun._ No, no; I think her a charming creature.
_Ash._ Do ye, faith and troth--Come, that be deadly kind o'ye however--Do you zee, I were _frightful_ she were not agreeable.
_Handy, jun._ Oh, she's extremely agreeable to me, I a.s.sure you.
_Ash._ I vow, it be quite pratty in you to take notice of Sue. I do hope, zur, breaking your head will break noa squares--She be a coming down to theas parts wi' lady our maid Nelly, as wur--your spouse, zur.
_Handy, jun._ The devil she is! that's awkward!
_Ash._ I do hope you'll be kind to Sue when she do come, woolye, zur?
_Handy, jun._ You may depend on it.
_Sir Abel._ I dare say you may. Come, Farmer, attend us.
_Ash._ Ees, zur; wi' all respect--Gentlemen, pray walk thic way, and I'll walk before you. [_Exit._
_Sir Abel._ Now, that's what he calls behaving pretty. d.a.m.n his pretty behaviour. [_Exeunt._