other be doing, that do blush and tremble at their own dater's coming.
[_Weeps._] Dang it, has she desarv'd it of us--Did she ever deceive
us?--Were she not always the most open hearted, dutifullest,
kindest--and thee to goa like a dom'd spy, and open her box, poor thing!

_Dame._ Nay, Tummas----

_Ash._ You did--I zaw you do it myzel!--you look like a thief, now--you
doe--Hush!--no--Dame--here be the letter--I won't reead a word on't; put
it where thee vound it, and as thee vound it.

_Dame._ With all my heart. [_She returns the letter to the box._

_Ash._ [_Embraces her._] Now I can wi' pleasure hug my wold wife, and
look my child in the vace again--I'll call her, and ax her about it; and
if she dan't speak without disguisement, I'll be bound to be shot--Dame,
be the colour of sheame off my face yet?--I never zeed thee look ugly
before----Susan, my dear Sue, come here a bit, woollye?

_Enter_ SUSAN.

_Susan._ Yes, my dear father.

_Ash._ Sue, we do wish to give thee a bit of admonishing and parent-like
conzultation.

_Susan._ I hope I have ever attended to your admonitions.

_Ash._ Ees, bless thee, I do believe thee hast, lamb; but we all want
our memories jogg'd a bit, or why else do parson preach us all to sleep
every Zunday--Zo thic be the topic--Dame and I, Sue, did zee a letter
gi'd to thee, and thee--bursted into tears, and lock'd un up in thic
box--and then Dame and I--we--that's all.

_Susan._ My dear father, if I concealed the contents of that letter from
your knowledge, it was because I did not wish your heart to share in the
pain mine feels.

_Ash._ Dang it, didn't I tell thee zoo? [_To his wife._

_Dame._ Nay, Tummas, did I say otherwise?

_Susan._ Believe me, my dear parents, my heart never gave birth to a
thought my tongue feared to utter.

_Ash._ There, the very words I zaid?

_Susan._ If you wish to see the letter, I will shew it to you.
[_She searches for the key._

_Dame._ Here's a key will open it.

_Ash._ Drabbit it, hold thy tongue, thou wold fool? [_Aside._] No,
Susan. I'll not zee it--I'll believe my child.

_Susan._ You shall not find your confidence ill-placed--it is true the
gentleman declared he loved me; it is equally true that declaration was
not unpleasing to me--Alas! it is also true, that his letter contains
sentiments disgraceful to himself, and insulting to me.

_Ash._ Drabbit it, if I'd knaw'd