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_ ACT III - SCENE I
The Garden of Road Farm as in Act I.
MRS. GARDNER is knitting in the Arbour. WILLIAM strolls about gloomily, his hands in his pockets.
MRS. GARDNER.
And serve you right, William, for sending the man when you should have gone yourself.
WILLIAM.
John has a tongue that is better used to this sort of business than mine.
MRS. GARDNER.
Nonsense, when was one of our family ever known to fail in the tongue?
WILLIAM.
If she that was asked first had only been the right one, all would have been over and done with now.
MRS. GARDNER.
'Tis John that you have got to thank for the blunder.
WILLIAM.
[Sighing.]
That was a rare fine maid, and no mistake.
MRS. GARDNER.
And a rare brazen hussy, from all that has reached my ears.
WILLIAM.
Well--I've done with courting--now and for all time, that I have. And you may roast me alive if I'll ever go nigh to a maid again.
MRS. GARDNER.
That you shall, William--and quickly too. There's no time like the present, and your Sunday clothes are upon you still.
WILLIAM.
I was just going up to change, Mother.
MRS. GARDNER.
Then you'll please to remain as you are. You may take what gift you like along with you this time, so long as it's none of my home-cured meat.
WILLIAM.
I'm blessed if I do stir out again this day. Why, look at the seedlings crying for water, and the nets to lay over the fruit and sommat of everything wanting to be done all around of me. I'll not stir.
[JOHN comes towards them.]
MRS. GARDNER.
Here's John. Suppose he were to make himself useful in the garden for once instead of meddling in things that are none of his business.
JOHN.
I'll be blowed if 'tis any more courting as I'll do, neither for Master William nor on my own account.
WILLIAM.
Why, John, 'twasn't your fault that the lady wouldn't take me, you did your best with her, I know.
JOHN.
An that I did, Master William, but a more contrary coxsy sort of a maid I never did see. "I baint one as fancies pig meat," her did say. And the nose of she did curl away up till it could go no higher. That's not the wench for me, I says to myself.
MRS. GARDNER.
Is the jowl hung up in its right place again, John?
JOHN.
That 'tis, mistress. I put it back myself, and a good job for that 'taint went out of the family and off to the mouths of strangers, so says I.
MRS. GARDNER.
Do you tend to Master William's garden John, instead of talking. We've had enough of your tongue for one day.
JOHN.
Why, be Master William goin' out for to court again, this afternoon?
WILLIAM.
No, John--No, I've had enough of that for my life time.
JOHN.
So have I, master, and more nor enough. I don't care particular if I never set eyes on a maid again.
WILLIAM.
[Pointing to a plot of ground.]
That's where I pulled the young carrots this morning.
JOHN.
Ah, and so you did, master.
WILLIAM.
And there's from where I took the Early Snowballs.
JOHN.
And a great pity as you did. There be none too many of that sort here.
WILLIAM.
She had a wonderful soft look in her eyes as she did handle them and the spring cabbage, John.
JOHN.
Ah, and a wonderful hard tongue when her knowed 'twasn't for she as they was pulled.
WILLIAM.
Was t'other maid anything of the same pattern, John?
JOHN.
Upon my word, if t'other wasn't the worst of the two, for she did put a powerful lot of venom into the looks as she did give I, and the words did fall from she like so many bricks on my head.
WILLIAM.
Pity the first was not the right maid.
JOHN.
Ah, a maid what can treat a prime home-cured jowl as yon did baint the sort for to mistress it over we, I'm thinking.
MRS. GARDNER.
See here, John--suppose you were to let your tongue bide still in its home awhile, and start doing something with your hands.
JOHN.
That's right enough, mistress. What's wanted, Master William?
WILLIAM.
I'm blessed if I can recollect, John. This courting business lies heavy on me, and I don't seem able to get above it, like.
JOHN.
I'd let it alone, master, if I was you. They be all alike, the maids. And 'twouldn't be amiss if we was to serve they as we serves the snails when they gets to the young plants.
[SUSAN comes hurriedly into the garden.]
SUSAN.
Please master, please mistress.
MRS. GARDNER.
What do you mean, Susan, by coming into the garden without your cap? Go and put it on at once.
SUSAN.
The wind must have lifted it from me, mistress, for I was running ever so fast.
MRS. GARDNER.
Do you expect me to believe that, Susan--and not a breath stirring the flowers or trees, or anything?
SUSAN.
'Twas the lady I met as--as--as I was coming across the field from feeding the fowls.
MRS. GARDNER.
What lady, Susan?
SUSAN.
Her from Luther's, mistress.
JOHN.
And what of she; out with it, wench.
SUSAN.
She did tell I to say as she be coming along as fast as she may after Master William.
WILLIAM.
[As though to himself with an accent of despair.]
No. No.
JOHN.
There, master, didn't I tell you so?
WILLIAM.
[Very nervously.]
What did you tell me, John?
JOHN.
That, let her abide and her'd find the senses of she presently.
WILLIAM.
O I'm blessed if I do know what to do.
[JOHN takes his master's arm and draws him aside.]
JOHN.
You pluck up your heart, my dearest master, and court she hard. And in less nor a six months 'tis along to church as you'll be a-driving she.
WILLIAM.
But John, 'tis t'other with the cherry ribbons that has taken all my fancy.
JOHN.
No, no, Master William. You take and court the mistress. You take and tame the young vixen, and get the gold and silver from she. T'other wench is but the serving maid.
SUSAN.
The lady's coming along ever so quickly, master.
[MRS. GARDNER, rising and folding up her knitting.]
MRS. GARDNER.
You'll please to come indoors with me, William, and I'll brush you down and make you look more presentable than you appear just now. Susan, you'll get a cap to you head at once, do you hear me! And John, take and water master's seedlings. Any one can stand with their mouths open and their eyes as big as gooseberries if they've a mind. 'Tis not particular sharp to do so. Come, William.
WILLIAM.
I'd like a word or two with John first, Mother.
MRS. GARDNER.
You come along with me this moment, William. 'Tis a too many words by far that you've had with John already, and much good they've done to you. Come you in with me.
WILLIAM.
O I'm blessed if I do know whether 'tis on my head or on my feet that I'm standing.
[WILLIAM follows his mother slowly and gloomily into the house.]
JOHN.
Well--if ever there was a poor, tormented animal 'tis the master.
SUSAN.
Ah, mistress should have been born a drover by rights. 'Tis a grand nagging o
ne as her'd have made, and sommat what no beast would ever have got the better of.
JOHN.
I wouldn't stand in Master William's shoes, not if you was to put me knee deep in gold.
SUSAN.
Nor I.
JOHN.
Ah, this courting business, 'tis a rare caddling muddle when 'tis all done and said.
SUSAN.
'Tis according as some folks do find it, Master John.
JOHN.
'Tis a smartish lot as you'll get of it come Sunday night, my wench. You wait and see.
SUSAN.
That shews how little you do know. 'Twill be better nor ever with me then.
JOHN.
'Twill be alone by yourself as you'll go walking, Su.
SUSAN.
We'll see about that when the time comes, John.
JOHN.
All I says is that I baint a-going walking with you.
SUSAN.
I never walk with two, John.
JOHN.
You'll have to learn to go in your own company.
SUSAN.
I shall go by the side of my husband by then, very likely.
JOHN.
Your husband? What tales be you a-giving out now?
SUSAN.
'Tis to Nat as I'm to be wed come Saturday.
JOHN.
Get along with you, Susan, and put a cap to your head. Mistress will be coming out presently, and then you know how 'twill be if her catches you so. Get along in with you.
SUSAN.
Now you don't believe what I'm telling you--but it's true, O it's true.
JOHN.
Look here--There's company at the gate, and you a-standing there like any rough gipsy wench on the road. Get you in and make yourself a decenter appearance and then go and tell the mistress as they be comed.
SUSAN.
[Preparing to go indoors and speaking over her shoulder.]
'Tis in the parson's gown as you should be clothed, Master John. Ah, 'tis a wonderful wordy preacher as you would make, to be sure. And 'tis a rare crop as one might raise with the seed as do fall from your mouth.
[She goes indoors. JULIA comes leisurely into the garden.]
JULIA.
Well, John, and how are you feeling now?
JOHN.
Nicely, thank you, mistress. See yon arbour?
JULIA.
And that I do, John.
JOHN.
Well, you may go and sit within it till the master has leisure to come and speak with you.
JULIA.
Thank you, John, but I would sooner stop and watch you tend the flowers.
JOHN.
'Tis all one to me whether you does or you does not.
JULIA.
Now, John, you are angry with me still.
JOHN.
I likes a wench as do know the mind of she, and not one as can blow hot one moment and cold the next.
JULIA.
There was never a moment when I did not know my own mind, John. And that's the truth.
JOHN.
Well, us won't say no more about that. 'Taint fit as there should be ill feeling nor quarrelling 'twixt me and you.
JULIA.
You're right, John. And there was something that I had it in my mind to ask you.
JOHN.
You can say your fill. There baint no one but me in the garden.
JULIA.
John, you told me that since Sunday your master has been sick with love.
JOHN.
That's right enough, mistress. I count as we shall bury he if sommat don't come to his relief.
JULIA.
Now, John, do you look into my eyes and tell me if 'tis for love of Julia or of Laura that your master lies sickening.
JOHN.
You'd best go and ask it of his self, mistress. 'Tis a smartish lot of work as I've got to attend to here.
JULIA.
You can go on working, John. I am not hindering you.
JOHN.
No more than one of they old Juney bettels a-roaring and a- buzzin round a man's head.
JULIA.
Now, John--you must tell me which of the two it is. Is it Laura whom your master loves, or Julia?
JOHN.
'Tis Julia, then, since you will have it out of me.
JULIA.
No, John, you're not looking straight at me. You are looking down at the flower bed. Let your eyes meet mine.
JOHN.
[Looking up crossly.]
I've got my work to think of. I'm not one to stand cackling with a maid.
JULIA.
Could you swear me it is Julia?
JOHN.
'Tis naught to I which of you it be. There bide over, so as I can get the watering finished.
JULIA.
[Seizes the watering can.]
Now, John, you have got to speak the truth to me.
JOHN.
Give up yon can, I tell you. O you do act wonderful unseemly for a young lady.
JULIA.
[Withholding the can.]
Not till I have the truth from you.
JOHN.
[Angrily.]
Well then, is it likely that my master would set his fancy on such a plaguy, wayward maid? Why, Master William do know better nor to do such a thing, I can tell you.
JULIA.
Then 'tis for Laura that he is love-sick, John.
JOHN.
Give I the watering can.
JULIA.
[Giving him the can.]
Here it is, dear John. O I had a fancy all the time that 'twas to Laura your master had lost his heart. And now I see I made no mistake.
JOHN.
I shouldn't have spoke as I did if you hadn't a buzzed around I till I was drove very nigh crazy. Master William, he'll never forgive me this.
JULIA.
That he will, I'm sure, when he has listened to what I have got to say to him.
JOHN.
You do set a powerful store on what your tongue might say, but I'd take and bide quiet at home if I was you and not come hunting of a nice reasonable gentleman like master, out of his very garden.
JULIA.
O John, you're a sad, ill-natured man, and you misjudge me very unkindly. But I'll not bear malice if you will just run in and tell your master that I want a word with him.
JOHN.
A word? Why not say fifty? When was a maid ever satisfied with one word I'd like to know?
JULIA.
Well--I shan't say more than six, very likely, so fetch him to me now, John, and I'll wait here in the garden. [JOHN looks at her with exasperated contempt. Then he slowly walks away towards the house. JULIA goes in the opposite direction to the garden gate.
JULIA.
[Calling.]
Chris!
[CHRIS comes in.]
JULIA.
[Pointing.]
O Chris, look at this fine garden--and yon arbour--see the fine house, with lace curtains to the windows of it.
CHRIS.
[Sullenly.]
Ah--I sees it all very well.
JULIA.
And all this could be mine for the stretching out of a hand.
CHRIS.
Then stretch it.
JULIA.
'Twould be like putting a wild bird into a gilded cage, to set me here in this place. No, I must go free with you, Chris--and we will wander where our spirits lead us--over all the world if we have a mind to do so.
CHRIS.
Please God you'll not grieve at your choice.
JULIA.
That I never shall. Now call to Laura. Is she in the lane outside?
CHRIS.
There, she be come to the gate now.
[LAURA comes in, followed by NAT and TANSIE.]
JULIA.
[Pointing to a place on the ground.]
Laura, see, here is the place from which your young carrots were pulled.
LAURA.
O look at the flowers, Julia--Lillies, pinks and red roses.
JULIA.
'Tis a fine red rose that shall be gathered for you presently, Laura.
[JOHN comes up.]
JOHN.
The master's very nigh ready now, mistress.
[SUSAN follows him.]
SUSAN.
The mistress says, please to be seated till she do come.
JOHN.
[To CHRIS and NAT.]
Now, my men, we don't want the likes of you in here. You had best get off afore Master William catches sight of you.
JULIA.
No, John. These are my friends, and I wish them to hear all that I have to say to your master.
JOHN.
Ah, 'tis in the grave as poor Master William will be landed soon if you don't have a care.
LAURA.
[Anxiously.]
O is he so delicate as that, John?
JOHN.
Ah--and that he be. And these here love matters and courtings and foolishness have very nigh done for he. I don't give him but a week longer if things do go on as they be now.
[WILLIAM and MRS. GARDNER come in. WILLIAM looks nervously round him. MRS. GARDNER perceives the gipsies, and SUSAN talking to NAT.]
MRS. GARDNER.
Susan, get you to your place in the kitchen, as quick as you can. John, put yon roadsters through the gate, if you please. [Turning to JULIA.] Now young Miss?
JULIA.
A very good evening to you, mistress. And let me make Chris known to you for he and I are to be wed to-morrow.
[She takes CHRIS by the hand and leads him forward.
MRS. GARDNER.
What's this? William, do you understand what the young person is telling us?
JULIA.
[Taking LAURA with her other hand.]
And here is Laura to whom I have given all my land and all my money. She is the mistress of Luther's now.
JOHN.
[Aside to WILLIAM.]
Now master, hearken to that. Can't you lift your spirits a bit.
JULIA.
[To MRS. GARDNER.]
And I beg you to accept her as a daughter. She will make a better farmer's wife than ever I shall.
JOHN.
[In a loud whisper.]
Start courting, master.
WILLIAM.
O I dare not quite so sudden, John.
MRS. GARDNER.
[Sitting down.]
It will take a few moments for me to understand this situation.
JULIA.
There is no need for any hurry. We have all the evening before us.
JOHN.
[Hastily gathers a rosebud and puts it into WILLIAM'S hand.]
Give her a blossom, master. 'Tis an easy start off.
WILLIAM.
[Coming forward shyly with the flower.]
Would you fancy a rosebud, mistress?
LAURA.
O that I would, master.
WILLIAM.
Should you care to see--to see where the young celery is planted out?
LAURA.
O, I'd dearly love to see the spot.
WILLIAM.
I'll take you along to it then.
[He gives her his arm, very awkwardly, and they move away.]
MRS. GARDNER.
[Sitting down.]
Well--things have changed since I was young.
JOHN.
[Looking viciously at NAT and SUSAN.]
Ah, I counts they have, mistress, and 'tis all for the worse.
SUSAN.
[Comes forward timidly.]
And me and Nat are to be married too, mistress.
MRS. GARDNER.
I should have given you notice anyhow to-night, Susan, so perhaps it's just as well you have made sure of some sort of a roof to your head.
NAT.
'Twill be but the roof of th' old cart, mistress; but I warrant as her'll sleep bravely under it, won't you, Su.
SUSAN.
That I shall, dear Nat.
TANSIE.
Well, Master John, have you a fancy to come tenting along of we.
JOHN.
Upon my word, but I don't know how 'tis with the young people nowadays, they be so bold.
JULIA.
[Who has been standing apart, her hand in that of CHRIS.]
New days, new ways, John.
JOHN.
Bless my soul, but 'tis hard to keep up with all these goings on, and no mistake.
JULIA.
No need for you to try, John. If you are too old to run with us you must abide still and watch us as we go.
CHRIS.
But there, you needn't look downhearted, master, for I knows someone as'll give you a rare warm welcome if so be as you should change your mind and take your chance in the open, same as we.
TANSIE.
You shall pay for that, Chris.
JOHN.
[Stiffly.]
I hope as I've a properer sense of my duty nor many others what I could name.
MRS. GARDNER.
Those are the first suitable words that have been spoken in my hearing this afternoon.
[WILLIAM, with LAURA on his arm, returns. LAURA carries a small cucumber very lovingly.]
LAURA.
Julia, look! The first one of the season! O, isn't it a picture!
JULIA.
O Laura, 'tis a fine wedding gift to be sure.
WILLIAM.
[Stepping up to JOHN.]
John, my man, here's a five pound note to your pocket. I'd never have won this lady here if it hadn't been for you.
JOHN.
[Taking the note.]
Don't name it, dear master. 'Tis a long courtship what has no ending to it, so I always says.
MRS. GARDNER.
'Tis one upset after another, but suppose you were to make yourself useful for once, Susan, and bring out the tray with the cake and glasses on it.
JOHN.
Ah, that's it, and I'll go along of she and help draw the cider. Courtship be powerful drying work.
LAURA.
[Looking into WILLIAM'S eyes.]
O William, 'twas those Early Snowballs that did first stir up my heart.
WILLIAM.
'Twas John who thought of them. Why, John has more sensible thoughts to the mind of him than any other man in the world- -and when the cider is brought, 'tis to John's health we will all drink.
[Curtain.]
[THE END]
Florence Henrietta Darwin's play: My Man John
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