Part 71 (2/2)

Nor am I Edgar, my good fellow.

DOBSON.

Tha lies! What hasta been saayin' to _my_ Dora?

HAROLD.

I have been telling her of the death of one Philip Edgar of Toft Hall, Somerset.

DOBSON.

Tha lies!

HAROLD (_pulling out a newspaper_).

Well, my man, it seems that you can read. Look there--under the deaths.

DOBSON.

'O' the 17th, Philip Edgar, o' Toft Hall, Soomerset.' How coom thou to be sa like 'im, then?

HAROLD.

Naturally enough; for I am closely related to the dead man's family.

DOBSON.

An 'ow coom thou by the letter to 'im?

HAROLD.

Naturally again; for as I used to transact all his business for him, I had to look over his letters. Now then, see these (_takes out letters_). Half a score of them, all directed to me--Harold.

DOBSON.

'Arold! 'Arold! 'Arold, so they be.

HAROLD.

My name is Harold! Good day, Dobbins!

[_Exit_.

DOBSON.

'Arold! The feller's clean daazed, an' maazed, an' maated, an' muddled ma. Dead! It mun be true, fur it wur i' print as black as owt. Naaay, but 'Good daay, Dobbins.' Why, that wur the very tw.a.n.g on 'im. Eh, lad, but whether thou be Hedgar, or Hedgar's business man, thou hesn't naw business 'ere wi' _my_ Dora, as I knaws on, an' whether thou calls thysen Hedgar or Harold, if thou stick to she I'll stick to thee-- stick to tha like a weasel to a rabbit, I will. Ay! and I'd like to shoot tha like a rabbit an' all. 'Good daay, Dobbins.' Dang tha!

ACT III.

SCENE.--_A room in_ STEER'S _House. Door leading into bedroom at the back_.

DORA (_ringing a handbell_).

Milly!

_Enter_ MILLY.

MILLY.

The little 'ymn? Yeas, Miss; but I wur so ta'en up wi' leadin' the owd man about all the blessed murnin' 'at I ha' n.o.bbut larned mysen haafe on it.

'O man, forgive thy mortal foe, Nor ever strike him blow for blow; For all the souls on earth that live To be forgiven must forgive.

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