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_ ACT II - SCENE II
The same wood.
WILLIAM and JOHN come up. WILLIAM carries a large market basket containing vegetables.
JOHN.
[Looking round and seeing no one.]
Bless my soul, but 'twas on the seat as I did leave she.
WILLIAM.
We have kept her waiting a bit too long whilst we were cutting the green stuff. And now 'twill be best to let matters bide over till to-morrow.
JOHN.
Why, master 'tis my belief as you be all of a-tremble like.
WILLIAM.
I wish we were well out of this business, John. 'Tis not to my liking in any way.
JOHN.
'Tis a fine looking lady, and that 'tis. You take and court her, Master William.
WILLIAM.
How am I to court the wench when she's not here?
JOHN.
[Pointing.]
Look yonder, master, there she comes through them dark trees.
WILLIAM.
You've got to bide somewhere nigh me, John. I could not be left alone with a wench who's a stranger to me.
JOHN.
Don't you get flustered, Master William. See here, I'll hide me ahind of yon bushes, and if so be as you should want me, why, there I'm close at hand.
WILLIAM.
I'd rather you did stand at my side, John.
[JOHN hides himself behind the bushes. LAURA comes slowly up. WILLIAM stands awkwardly before her, saying nothing. Presently he takes off his hat and salutes her clumsily and she bows to him. For some moments they stand embarrassed, looking at one another.]
WILLIAM.
[Suddenly bringing out a bunch of carrots from his basket and holding them up.]
See these young carrots, mistress.
LAURA.
Indeed I do, master.
WILLIAM.
'Tisn't everywhere that you do see such fine grown ones for the time of year.
LAURA.
You're right there, master. We have none of them up at our place.
WILLIAM.
[Holding them towards her.]
Then be pleased to accept these, mistress.
LAURA.
[Taking the carrots.]
Thank you kindly, master.
[There is another embarrassed silence. WILLIAM looks distractedly from LAURA to his basket. Then he takes out a bunch of turnips.]
WILLIAM.
You couldn't beat these nowhere, not if you were to try.
LAURA.
I'm sure you could not, master.
WILLIAM.
They do call this sort the Early Snowball. 'Tis a foolish name for a table root.
LAURA.
'Tis a beautiful turnip.
WILLIAM.
[Giving her the bunch.]
You may as well have them too.
LAURA.
O you're very kind, master.
[There is another long silence. WILLIAM shuffles on his feet--LAURA bends admiringly over her gifts.]
WILLIAM.
There's young beans and peas and a spring cabbage too, within the basket. I do grow a little of most everything.
LAURA.
O shall we sit down and look at the vegetables together?
WILLIAM.
[Visibly relieved.]
We might do worse nor that.
[They sit down side by side with the basket between them.]
LAURA.
[Lifting the cabbage.]
O, this is quite a little picture! See how the leaves do curl backwards--so fresh and green!
WILLIAM.
Ah, and that one has a rare white heart to it, it has.
LAURA.
I do love the taste of a spring cabbage, when it has a slice of fat bacon along with it.
WILLIAM.
I might have brought a couple of pounds with me if I'd have thought. Mother do keep some rare mellow jowls a-hanging in the pantry.
LAURA.
[Shyly.]
Next time, maybe.
WILLIAM.
[Eagerly.]
'Twouldn't take ten minutes for me to run back.
LAURA.
Not now--O no master--not now. Do you bide a little longer here and tell me about--about t'other things in the basket.
WILLIAM.
[Mopping his face with a handkerchief.]
Well--there's the beans--I count that yours haven't come up very smart this year.
LAURA.
That they've not. The whole place has been let to run dreadful wild.
WILLIAM.
I'd--I'd like to show you how 'tis in my garden, one of these days.
LAURA.
I'd be very pleased to walk along with you there.
WILLIAM.
[Hurriedly.]
Ah--you should see it later on when the--the- -the parsnips are a bit forrarder.
LAURA.
I'd like to see the flower garden now, where this nosegay came from.
WILLIAM.
[Looking round uneasily.]
I don't know what the folks would say if they were to see you and me a-going on the road in broad day--I'm sure I don't.
LAURA.
Why, what should they say, Master Gardner?
WILLIAM.
They might get saying--they might say as--as I'd got a- courting, or sommat foolish.
LAURA.
Well--and would that be untrue?
WILLIAM.
[Looking at her very uncomfortably.]
I'm blessed if I do know--I mean -
LAURA.
This nosegay--and look, those young carrots--and the turnips and beans, why did you bring them for me, master, unless it was that you intended something by it?
WILLIAM.
[Very confused.]
That's so. So 'tis. That's true. I count you have got hold of the sow by the ear right enough this time. And the less said about it the better. [A slight silence.
LAURA.
[Looking up shyly in WILLIAM's face.]
What was it drew you to me first, master?
WILLIAM.
I believe 'twas in Church on Sunday that I chanced to take notice of you, like.
LAURA.
Yes, but what was it about me that took your fancy in Church on Sunday?
WILLIAM.
I'm blessed if I know, unless 'twas those coloured ribbons that you have got to your bonnet.
LAURA.
You are partial to the colour?
WILLIAM.
Ah, 'tis well enough.
LAURA.
See here.
[Taking a flower from her dress.]
This is of the same colour. I will put it in your coat.
[She fastens it in his coat. WILLIAM looks very uncomfortable and nervous.]
WILLIAM.
Well, bless my soul, but women folk have got some powerful strange tricks to them.
LAURA.
[Pinning the flower in its place.]
There--my gift to you, master.
WILLIAM.
You may call me by my name, if you like, 'tis more suitable, seeing that we might go along to Church together one of these days.
LAURA.
O William, you have made me very happy--I do feel all mazy like with my gladness.
WILLIAM.
Well, Julia, we might do worse than to--to--name the day.
LAURA.
Why do you call me Julia?
WILLIAM.
Seeing that I've given you leave to call me William 'tis only suitable that I should use your name as well.
LAURA.
But my name is not Julia.
WILLIAM.
What is it then, I should like to know?
LAURA.
'Tis Laura, William.
WILLIAM.
Folks did tell me that you were named Julia.
LAURA.
No--Laura is my name; but I live with Mistress Julia up at Luther's Farm, and I help her with the work. House-keeping, dairy, poultry, garden. O there's nothing I can't turn my hand to, Master William.
WILLIAM.
[Starts up from the seat in deepest consternation.]
John, John--Come you here, I say! Come here.
JOHN.
[Emerges from the bushes.]
My dearest master!
WILLIAM.
What's this you've been and done, John?
JOHN.
Why, master--the one with the cherry ribbons, to her you did say.
WILLIAM.
[Disgustedly.]
'Tis the wrong one.
LAURA.
What are you two talking about? William, do you mean to say as that man of yours was hid in the bushes all the while?
WILLIAM.
Now, John, you've got to get me out of the fix where I'm set.
JOHN.
O my dear master, don't you take on so. 'Tis a little bit of misunderstanding to be sure, but one as can be put right very soon.
WILLIAM.
Then you get to work and set it right, John, for 'tis beyond the power of me to do so. I'll be blessed if I'll ever get meddling with this sort of job again.
JOHN.
Now don't you get so heated, master, but leave it all to me.
[Turning to LAURA.]
My good wench, it seems that there has been a little bit of misunderstanding between you and my gentleman here.
LAURA.
[Angrily.]
So that's what you call it--misunderstanding 'tis a fine long word, but not much of meaning, to it, I'm thinking.
JOHN.
Then you do think wrong. Suppose you was to go to market for to buy a nice spring chicken and when you was got half on the way to home you was to see as they had put you up a lean old fowl in place of it, what would you do then?
LAURA.
I don't see that chickens or fowls have anything to do with the matter.
JOHN.
Then you're not the smart maid I took you for. 'Tis not you as would be suitable in my master's home. And what's more, 'tis not you as my master's come a-courting of.
LAURA.
If 'tis not me, who is it then?
[WILLIAM looks at her sheepishly and then turns away.]
JOHN.
'Tis your mistress, since you wants to know.
LAURA.
[Indignantly.]
O, I see it all now--How could I have been so misled!
JOHN.
However could poor master have been so mistook, I say.
LAURA.
[Turning away passionately.]
O, I've had enough of you and-- and your master.
JOHN.
Now that's what I do like for to hear. Because me and master have sommat else to do nor to stand giddle-gaddling in this old wood the rest of the day. Us have got a smartish lot of worry ahead of we, haven't us, master?
WILLIAM.
You never said a truer word, John.
JOHN.
Come along then Master William. You can leave the spring vegetables to she. 'Tis more nor she deserves, seeing as her might have known as 'twas her mistress the both of us was after, all the time.
[LAURA throws herself on the seat and begins to cry silently, but passionately.]
WILLIAM.
O John, this courting, 'tis powerful heavy work.
JOHN.
[Taking WILLIAM'S arm.]
Come you along with me, master, and I'll give you a helping hand with it all.
LAURA.
[Looking up and speaking violently.]
I warrant you will, you clown. But let me advise you to look better afore you leap next time, or very likely 'tis in sommat worse than a ditchful of nettles as you'll find yourself.
JOHN.
[Looking back over his shoulders as he goes off with WILLIAM.]
I reckon as you've no call to trouble about we, mistress. Us is they what can look after theirselves very well. Suppose you was to wash your face and dry your eyes and set about the boiling of yon spring cabbage. 'Twould be sensibler like nor to bide grizzling after one as is beyond you in his station, so 'twould.
[JOHN and WILLIAM go out, leaving LAURA weeping on the bench, the basket of vegetables by her side.]
[Curtain.] _
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