Beg.

The Saints reward you

For this good deed!-Well, Sirs, this passed away; And afterwards I fancied a strange dog,

Trotting alone along the beaten road,

Came to my child as by my side he slept,
And, fondling, licked his face, then on a sudden'
Snapped fierce to make a morsel of his head :
But here he is, [kissing the Child,] it must have
been a dream.

Osw. When next inclined to sleep, take my advice,

And put your head, good Woman, under cover. Beg. O, Sir, you would not talk thus, if you

knew

What life is this of ours, how sleep will master
The weary-worn. You gentlefolk have got
Warm chambers to your wish. I'd rather be
A stone than what I am.

The darkness overtook me,
Beat hard upon my head,

But two nights gone,

wind and rain

and yet I saw

A glowworm, through the covert of the furze,
Shine calmly as if nothing ailed the sky:

At which I half accused the God in Heaven. ·

You must forgive me.

Osw.

Ay, and if you think

The Fairies are to blame, and you should chide Your favorite saint, - no matter, this good day

Has made amends.

Beg.

Thanks to you both; but, O Sir

How would you like to travel on whole hours

As I have done, my eyes upon the ground,
Expecting still, I knew not how, to find
A piece of money glittering though the dust.
Mar. This woman is a prater. Pray, good
Lady!

Do you tell fortunes?

O Sir, you are like the rest.

it cuts me to the heart,

Well! they might turn a beggar from their doors, But there are mothers who can see the babe Here at my breast, and ask me where I bought it: This they can do, and look upon my face;

But you, Sir, should be kinder.

Mar.

Come hither, Fathers,

And learn what nature is from this poor wretch! Beg. Ay, Sir, there's nobody that feels for us. Why now, but yesterday I overtook

A blind old graybeard and accosted him,

I' th' name of all the Saints, and by the Mass
He should have used me better! - Charity!
If
you can melt a rock, he is your man ;
But I'll be even with him, here again

I'll point him out; a Maiden is his guide,

Lovely as Spring's first rose; a little dog,
Tied by a woollen cord, moves on before,
With look as sad as he were dumb; the cur,

I owe him no ill-will, but in good sooth
He does his master credit.

Mar.

Tis Herbert and no other!

Beg.

As I live,

'Tis a feast to see him,

- yet evermore,

Lank as a ghost and tall, his shoulders bent,

And long beard white with age;

As if he were the only Saint on earth,
He turns his face to heaven.

Isw.

Against this venerable man?

Beg.

But why so violent

I'll tell you :

He has the very hardest heart on earth;

I had as lief turn to the Friar's school
And knock for entrance, in mid-holiday.

Mar. But to your story.

Beg.
I was saying, Sir
Well! he has often spurned me like a toad,
But yesterday was worse than all; at last
I overtook him, Sirs, my Babe and I,
And begged a little aid for charity:
But he was snappish as a cottage cur.
Well then, says I— I'll out with it; at which
I cast a look upon the Girl, and felt

--

As if my heart would burst; and so I left him. Osw. I think, good Woman, you are the very

person

Whom, but some few days past, I saw in Eskdale, At Herbert's door.

Beg.

Ay; and if truth were known,

I have good business there,

Osw.

And he seemed angry.

Beg.

I met you at the threshold,

Angry! well he might ;

And long as I can stir I 'll dog him. -Yesterday,

To serve me so, and knowing that he owes
The best of all he has to me and mine.

But 't is all over now. - That good old Lady

Has left a power of riches; and I

say it, If there's a lawyer in the land, the knave Shall give me half.

I spied him skulking in his peasant's dress.

Osw. How say you? in disguise?
Mar.

With Herbert or his Daughter?

Beg.

But how's the day? I fear, my little Boy,

But what's your business

Daughter! truly!

An inch, till I am answered. Know you aught

That doth concern this Herbert?

Beg.

And will misuse me, Sir!

Mar.

You are provoked,

No trifling, Woman!

Osw. You are as safe as in a sanctuary;

Speak.

And I will tell you all! -You know not, Sir,
What strong temptations press upon the Poor.
Osw. Speak out.

Beg.

O Sir, I've been a wicked Woman.

Osu. Nay, but speak out!

Beg.

He flattered me, and said

What harvest it would bring us both; and so,

I parted with the Child.

Mar.

Parted with whom?

Beg. Idonea, as he calls her; but the Girl

Is mine.

Mar. Yours, Woman! are you Herbert's wife? Beg. Wife, Sir! his wife!-not I; my husband,

Sir,

Was of Kirkoswald,

many a snowy winter

We've weathered out together. My poor Gilfred! He has been two years in his grave.

Mar.

Enough.

Osw. We've solved the riddle. - Miscreant! Mar

Do you,

Good Dame, repair to Liddesdale and wait For my return; be sure you shall have justice. Osw. A lucky woman! go, you have done good service. [Aside.

Mar. (to himself.) Eternal praises on the power

that saved her!