SCENE I.
—Wiersdale Forest. A Cave seen in the back ground.
(Time—Morning.)
Enter, from the Cave,
Rosa
and
Maude.
Rosa.
They said, they would be back or morning,
and the sun is almost up—
[Singing.]
Just crimsoning the mountain crest,
And tinselling the lavrock's breast,
As he meets the slanting ray,
With his merry roundelay.
Maude.
I fear some mischance has o'ertaken them.
Rosa.
Why dost fear?
Maude.
They knew the vicar had been drawing his
small tithes; and your pigs, they be the most
difficultest things to steal that an honest man can put his
hand to: They'll raise ye a rout would split the
devil's ears.—I fear there's something wrong.
Rosa.
Thou'rt always fearing and fearing.
Maude.
And his wife, too, has the ear of a
mouldewart, and she's as watchful as an old gander.
Rosa.
—But, then, think of the parson's snore; 'tis
louder twice than the bellows of a smiddy forge.
Maude.
But didst not see the lightning?
Rosa.
No, I was so wearied with the rehearsing. I
dreamed the live-long night I was the Queen o' the
Fairies, and that the King was so handsome and so
kind; and I was so vexed when I opened my eyes
and saw your withered face.
[Yawning.
Maude.
Haste to the well; but, hear, take care not
to gaze in it at thy pretty self; the very shadow of
such a dirty smutched-face ouphe as thee would make
it muddy. Swith!—take both pails.
Rosa.
And your sweet face would look it clear
again.—But what can keep them?
Maude.
Run up first to the Claughton brow, and
look for them: Go, and I'll be putting on the bailiff's
new pot.
[Exeunt different ways.
