_ Oh! no; do not so disgrace the victory you have gained--'tis
your own virtue that has triumphed.
_Handy, jun._ My Susan! how true it is that fools alone are vicious. But
let us fly to my father, and obtain his consent. On recollection, that
may not be quite so easy. His arrangements with Sir Philip Blandford
are--are--not mine, so there's an end of that. And Sir Philip, by
misfortune, knows how to appreciate happiness. Then poor Miss
Blandford--upon my soul I feel for her.
_Susan._ [_Ironically._] Come, don't make yourself miserable. If my
suspicions be true, she'll not break her heart for your loss.
_Handy, jun._ Nay, don't say so; she will be unhappy.
_Ash._ [_Without._] There he is. Dame, shall I shoot at un?
_Dame._ No.
_Susan._ My father's voice.
_Ash._ Then I'll leather un wi' my stick.
_Enter_ ASHFIELD _and_ DAME.
_Ash._ What do thee do here with my Sue, eh?
_Handy, jun._ With your Sue!--she's mine--mine by a husband's right.
_Ash._ Husband! what, thee Sue's husband?
_Handy, jun._ I soon shall be.
_Ash._ But how tho'?--What! faith and troth?--What! like as I married
Dame?
_Handy, jun.
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