DANIEL. Wait!—’Tis a sight too long as we have waited this day. If all had been as I’d planned, we should have been to church by now. But womenfolk, there be no depending on they. No, and that there bain’t. [GEORGE, JOHN _and the_ OLD MAN _come up_. GEORGE _and_ JOHN _carry their packets and the_ OLD MAN _has_ GILES’ _coat and hat over his arm_. ELIZABETH. And who are these persons, Giles? [GEORGE _and_ JOHN _set down their burdens on the floor and begin to mop their faces_. _The_ OLD MAN _stretches out his fine coat and hat and buckled shoes to_ GILES. OLD MAN. Here they be, my lord, and I warrant as you’ll feel more homely like in they, nor what you’ve got upon you now. [GILES _takes the things from him_. GILES. Thank you, old master. [_He turns to_ MILLIE.] Let me go into the other room, Millie. I will not keep you waiting longer than a few moments. [_He goes out_. ELIZABETH. [_To_ GEORGE.] And who may you be, I should like to know? You appear to be making very free with my parlour. GEORGE. We be the servants what wait upon Master Giles, old Missis. ELIZABETH. Old Missis, indeed. Father, you shall speak to these persons. DANIEL. Well, my men. I scarce do know whether I be a-standing on my head or upon my heels, and that’s the truth ’tis. GEORGE. Ah, and that I can well understand, master, for I’m a married man myself, and my woman has a tongue to her head very similar to that of th’ old missis yonder—so I know what ’tis. ELIZABETH. Put them both out of the door, Father, do you hear me? ’Tis to the cider as they’ve been getting. That’s clear. MILLIE. My good friends, what is it that you carry in those bundles there? GEORGE. ’Tis gold in mine. JOHN. And silver here. ELIZABETH. Depend upon it ’tis two wicked thieves we have got among us, flying from justice. MILLIE. No, no—did not you hear them say, their master is Giles. GEORGE. And a better master never trod the earth. JOHN. And a finer or a richer gentleman I never want to see. ELIZABETH. Do you hear that, Father? O you shocking liars—’tis stolen goods that you’ve been and brought to our innocent house this day. But, Father, do you up and fetch in the constable, do you hear? MAY. O I’ll run. I shall love to see them going off to gaol. MILLIE. Be quiet, May. Can’t you all see how ’tis. Giles has done the cruel hard task set him by Father—and is back again with the bushel of silver and that of gold to claim my hand. [GILES _enters_.] But Giles—I’d have given it to you had you come to me poor and forlorn and ragged, for my love has never wandered from you in all this long time. ANDREW. No, Giles—and that it has not. Millie has never given me one kind word nor one gentle look all the years that I’ve been courting of her, and that’s the truth. And you can call witness to it if you care.