Reuben and Other Poems | ||
Scene V.
Corner of the Market-place. Car, selling vegetables.Car.
Not twelve o'clock yet! I wish it was neet! Can
onybody tell me if that clock bees stonin'? It doesn't
look to me to move a bit! Yet it did tak' a stert when
I look'd a while the other way.—Supposing it was
twelve now, how long would that be while eight?
Add twelve from eight. No, substract twelve to eight.
You cannot. Put down your ought and then reduct.
Why, it's more till a whole day put together; which is
some error.—Howsomever, I must goa to the Brig at
eight. Merget said nine; but it's best to be in time.
(Enter a woman, who looks at the vegetables.)
Two-pence a stone missus.
(Woman goes away.)
Verra weel; yo needn't buy them. It's dirt cheap for
turmits.—I doant need to lower my price now for no
woman. I want to leave the merket with a good
character; so that hucksters will say, “He was a rare
good chap was Richard for keepin' up prices.” “Prices
has never been what they was since Richard wed
Merget and went to the Brig.” “It was a ill day for
aur trade when Richard sterted landlord.” “But a
man has a reet to better hissel', and here's wishin' his
verra good health.”—Yonder comes Wheeler, one o'
them town swells that would like to catch Merget.
But hoo wouldn't have a town's mon on no account.
Enter Wheeler.
Wheeler.
(aside)
There's Car the gardener. I met him on the road half drunk last night, shouting to everyone that passed, “My name is Richard Car, or Dick, if you will. I'll be wed to Merget Riccard in a week, and never sell a turmit nor a green thing no more.”—Good morning, Richard. I hear you are going to be married and turn landlord.
Car.
What, down at the Brig? Nay, nay, Measter Wheeler, Merget would never take the like o' me. You've the best chance yonder.
Wheeler.
I once thought so, Richard. She's an excellent wench, and a pretty. But she wants a man that knows gardening and farming; and that's just the reason she's taking you in preference to me.
Car.
Hoo always said hoo would have nowt but a country mon. But I howp yo'll take no offence, Measter Wheeler. It's not my fault yo knoan. Yo'll not leave the house will yo?
Wheeler.
Leave the house! Hang it, no! I'll take my glass
Car.
You'll be vastly welcome, Measter Wheeler; for I'm nowt at cowreels mysel'. I've been too much at cow heels for that,—ha, ha, ha!
Wheeler.
You've that to thank for your good fortune, Richard. (Thanks to the tailor's ring, I can afford to joke on this subject.) Good morning, Richard.
[Exit.Car.
Good day, Measter Wheeler.—He's a verra nice gentlemany gentleman that.—I must go, though; for there will be nowt more done to-day.—Merget's been telling him all about it, I can see; and he taks it weel—verra weel. I thowt he would be vext, but he wasn't; for he sees it isn't my fault.
(Loads his barrow, preparing to leave the market, and sings.)If you will but be mine, O,
The pansies shall be your wedding clothes,
And our bed the camavine, O.
We'll lie in the sun the live-long day,
And the merry birds shall sing, O,
The bees on their drowsy pipes shall play,
And the bonnie blue bells shall ring, O.
It's ring, ring, ring, and it's ding, ding, ding,
The bonnie blue bells shall ring, O.
What's troth, if it be not true, O?
I've plighted mine to the rose so red,
And I may not marry you, O.
Sweet William hung his head and wept,
The merry birds ceased their song, O,
The bees into mossy silence crept,
And the bonnie blue bells beat dong, O.
Dong! dong! dong! dong! dong!
The bonnie blue bells beat dong, O!
It's a very lamancholy sweet song; and if I could bethink me of the rest of it, I would sing it over all day; for I'll be like to give it them at neet. So I'll goa and bethink me.
[Exit.Re-enter Wheeler, with Greene.
Greene.
—because, if you have not given it her I would rather ------
Wheeler.
But I have given it her.
Greene.
I would rather ------
Wheeler.
But I tell you I have given it her.
Greene.
Are you quite certain of that?
How could I be uncertain?
Greene.
And how did she take it?
Wheeler.
O, not with the tongs—gingerly.
Greene.
I mean, how did she look? What did she say or think? In short, how did the thing take?
Wheeler.
Well, she looked as if she had been newly shaken
out of a bag; and when she came to herself, she said
it was a sweet pretty thing, kissed it, and put it on her
finger. What she thought, I could not swear to, but I
flatter me she wished such brotherly love might continue.
In short, the thing took just as I expected it
would; and of this you shall shortly be convinced.
So, go on and prosper, my boy.
(Slapping him on the shoulder.)
Good-day.
Greene.
It might be well to prosecute this thing, and not tamely give it up, as I had determined. My battle, it would seem, is half fought by this ally of mine, her brother. And the prize! Why, it may not be so bad after all. She's extremely pretty, and I love her distractedly
[Exit.
Reuben and Other Poems | ||