_Sir Abel._ Poor fellow! neglected perhaps--had I known it, he should have had the best advice money could have got. _Lady H._ You seem sorry. _Sir Abel._ Why, you would not have me pleased at the death of your husband, would you?--a good kind of man? _Everg._ Yes; a faithful fellow--rather ruled his wife too severely. _Sir Abel._ Did he! [_Apart to_ EVERGREEN.] Pray do you happen to recollect his manner!--Could you just give a hint of the way he had? _Lady H._ Do you want to tyrannize over my poor tender heart?--'Tis too much! _Everg._ Bless me! Lady Handy is ill--Salts! salts! _Sir Abel._ [_Producing an essence box._] Here are salts, or aromatic vinegar, or essence of-- _Everg._ Any--any. _Sir Abel._ Bless me, I can't find the key! _Everg._ Pick the lock. _Sir Abel._ It can't be picked, it is a patent lock. _Everg._ Then break it open, sir. _Sir Abel._ It can't be broke open--it is a contrivance of my own--you see, here comes a horizontal bolt, which acts upon a spring, therefore-- _Lady H._ I may die, while you are describing a horizontal bolt. Do you think you shall close your eyes for a week for this? _Enter_ SIR PHILIP BLANDFORD. _Sir Philip._ What has occasioned this disturbance? _Lady H._ Ask that gentleman. _Sir Abel._ Sir, I am accused-- _Lady H._ Convicted! convicted! _Sir Abel._ Well, I will not argue with you about words--because I must bow to your superior practice--But, Sir-- _Sir Philip._ Pshaw! [_Apart._] Lady Handy, some of your people were inquiring for you. _Lady H._ Thank you, sir. Come, Sir Abel. [_Exit._ _Sir Abel._ Yes, my lady--I say [_To_ EVERGREEN.] cou'dn't you give me a hint of the way he had-- _Lady H._ [_Without._] Sir Abel! _Sir Abel._ Coming, my soul! [_Exit._ _Sir Philip._ So! you have well obeyed my orders in keeping this Henry from my presence. _Everg._ I was not to blame, master. _Sir Philip._ Has Farmer Ashfield left the Castle? _Everg._ No, sir. _Sir Philip._ Send him hither. [_Exit_ EVERGREEN.] That boy must be driven far, far from my sight--but where?--no matter! the world is large enough. _Enter_ ASHFIELD. --Come hither. I believe you hold a farm of mine. _Ash._ Ees, zur, I do, at your zarvice. _Sir Philip._ I hope a profitable one? _Ash._ Zometimes it be, zur. But thic year it be all t'other way as 'twur--but I do hope, as our landlords have a tightish big lump of the good, they'll be zo kind hearted as to take a little bit of the bad. _Sir Philip._ It is but reasonable--I conclude then you are in my debt. _Ash._ Ees, zur, I be--at your zarvice. _Sir Philip._ How much? _Ash._ I do owe ye a hundred and fifty pounds--at your zarvice. _Sir Philip._ Which you can't pay? _Ash._ Not a varthing, zur--at your zarvice. _Sir Philip._ Well, I am willing to give you every indulgence.