_Miss B._ Pray, Sir Abel, where is your son? _Sir Abel._ What! Bob? Oh, you'll see him presently--[_Nodding significantly._]--Here are the prize medals; and if you will condescend to present them, I'm sure they'll be worn with additional pleasure.--I say, you'll see Bob presently.--Well, Farmer, is it all over? _Ash._ Ees, zur; the acres be plough'd and the ground judg'd; and the young lads be coming down to receive their reward--Heartily welcome, miss, to your native land; hope you be as pleased to zee we as we be to zee you, and the like o'that.--Mortal beautizome to be sure--I declare, miss, it do make I quite warm zomehow to look at ye. [_A shout without._] They be coming--Now, Henry! _Sir Abel._ Now you'll see Bob!--now my dear boy, Bob!--here he comes. [_Huzza._ _Enter_ HENRY _and two young Husbandmen._ _Ash._ 'Tis he, he has don't--Dang you all, why dan't ye shout? Huzza! _Sir Abel._ Why, zounds, where's Bob?--I don't see Bob--Bless me, what has become of Bob and my plough? [_Retires and takes out his glass._ _Ash._ Well, Henry, there be the prize, and there be the fine lady that will gi' it thee. _Henry._ Tell me who is that lovely creature? _Ash._ The dater of Sir Philip Blandford. _Henry._ What exquisite sweetness! Ah! should the father but resemble her, I shall have but little to fear from his severity. _Ash._ Miss, thic be the young man that ha got'n the goulden prize. _Miss B._ This! I always thought ploughmen were coarse, vulgar creatures, but he seems handsome and diffident. _Ash._ Ees, quite pratty behaved--it were I that teach'd un. _Miss B._ What's your name? _Henry._ Henry. _Miss B._ And your family? [HENRY_, in agony of grief, turns away, strikes his forehead, and leans on the shoulder of_ ASHFIELD.] _Dame._ [_Apart to_ MISS B.] Madam, I beg pardon, but nobody knows about his parentage; and when it is mentioned, poor boy! he takes on sadly--He has lived at our house ever since we had the farm, and we have had an allowance for him--small enough to be sure--but, good lad! he was always welcome to share what we had. _Miss B._ I am shock'd at my imprudence--[_To_ HENRY.] Pray pardon me; I would not insult an enemy, much less one I am inclined to admire--[_Giving her hand, then withdraws it._]--to esteem--you shall go to the Castle--my father shall protect you. _Henry._ Generous creature! to merit his esteem is the fondest wish of my heart--to be your slave, the proudest aim of my ambition. _Miss B._ Receive your merited reward. [_He kneels--she places the medal round his neck--the same to the others._] _Sir Abel._ [_Advances._] I can't see Bob: pray, sir, do you happen to know what is become of my Bob? _Henry._ Sir? _Sir Abel._ Did not you see a remarkable clever plough, and a young man----