Traditions and Hearthside Stories of West Cornwall, Second Series. Bottrell William
Well, I'll be married to thee any day, though thee art no beauty, to be sure."
Huey gets a little nearer.
Duffy, putting her hand on his face, "Thy face is as rough as Morvah Downs, that was ploughed and never harved (harrowed) they say; but I'll have thee for all that and fill up with putty all the pock-mark pits and seams; then paint them over and make thee as pretty as a new wheelbarrow."
The squire is heard outside calling his dogs. Duffy starts up in a fright, seizes a furze-prong, and says, "Master will be here in a minute, jump into the huccarner (wood-corner) and I'll cover thee up with the furze."
Huey hesitates.
Duffy: – "Then crawl into the oven: a little more baking will make thee no worse."
Huey gets into an oven, opening on to the fire-place and behind the chimney-stool, just as the Squire enters and calls out,
"Jone, take up the pie, if its ready or raw. I'm as hungry as a hound."
Duffy, rising to uncover a pie that was baking on the hearth, says, "Master, I have staid up to give ye your supper, because An Jone es gone to bed very bad with a cramp in her stomach and wind in her head, so she said."
"Why I heard thee talking when I came to the door, who was here then?" demanded the Squire.
"Only a great owl, master dear," she replied, "that fell down from the ivy-bush growing over the chimney and perched hisself there on the stool, with his great goggle eyes, and stood staring at me and blinkan like a fool. Then he cried Hoo! hoo! Tu-wit, tu-woo; and, when you opened the door, he flew up the chimney the same way he came down."
The Squire, satisfied with Duffy's explanation, advances, and puts his foot on the hearth-stone, looks at his legs, saying, "Duffy, my dear, these are the very best stockings I ever had in my life. I've been hunting all day, over moors and downs, through furze and thorns, among brambles and bogs, in the worst of weather, yet there isn't a scratch on my legs and they are as dry as if bound up in leather."
The Devil (supposed to be invisible) rises behind Duffy and grimaces at the Squire.
Duffy: – "I may as well tell 'e master that I shan't knit much more for 'e, because Huey Lenine and I have been courtan for a long time. We are thinkan to get married before winter, and then I shall have a man of my own to work for."
Squire: – "What! Huey Lenine! I'll break every bone in his carcase if he shows his face near the place. Why the devil is in it that a young skit like thee should have it in thy head to get married! Now I'll sit down a minute and talk reason with thee."
[The Squire sits close beside Duffy. The Devil tickles them with his tail. Huey is seen peeping from the oven.]
Squire: – "Give up thy courting with Huey Lenine,
And I'll dress thee in silks and satins fine."
Duffy: – "No I'll never have an old man, an old man like you,
Though you are Squire Lovell:
To my sweetheart I'll be constant and true,
Though he work all day with threshal and shovel."
The Devil tickles the Squire behind the ears. He sits nearer and places his arm round her waist.
Squire: – "Thou shalt have a silk gown all broider'd in gold,
Jewels and rings, with such other fine things
In the old oak chest, as thee did'st never behold."
Duffy: – "My sweetheart is young, lively, and strong,
With cheeks like a red rose;
But your time will not be long: —
You have very few teeth, and a blue-topped nose.
So keep your silks and keep your gold,
I'll never have a man so feeble and old."
Here the Devil tickles them both. The Squire hugs and kisses Duffy, who makes less and less resistance.
Squire: – "You shan't find me feeble, though I'm near sixty;
I'm stronger still than many a man of twenty."
Duffy: – "Your only son is now far away.
If he came home and found ye wed,
What think ye he would say?"
Squire: – "I hope he is already dead,
Or'll be kill'd in the wars some day,
If alive he shan't enter my door,
I'll give thee my land, with all my store,
Thou shalt ride to church behind me upon a new pavillion,
Smarter than Dame Pendar or Madam Trezillian."
Duffy: – "Dear master, hold your flattering tongue,
Nor think to deceive one so simple and young;
For I'm a poor maid, lowly born and bred;
With one so humble you could never wed.
Keep your distance, and none of your hugging;
You shall kiss me no more till you take me to church.
I'll never cry at Christmas for April fooling
Like a poor maid left in the lurch.
Look! the sand is all down and the pie burned black,
With the crust too hard for your colt's-teeth to crack:
So off to the hall and take your supper."
Duffy rises, takes up from the hearth a pie, which had been baking there, goes out with it, followed by the Squire and Devil dancing. Huey crawls from the oven, saying "Lack a day who can tell, now, what to make of a she-thing?" By the time he gets on his legs Duffy returns, and, assisted by the devil pushes him to doors, saying,
"Now betake thyself outside the door,
Nor show thy black face here any more;
Don't think I would wed a poor piljack like thee,
When I may have a Squire of high degree."
Duffy and the Devil dance till the Squire returns and joins in a three-handed reel, without seeing the Old One, who capers back into a dark corner at the pass of the dance, and comes close behind him at the pitch. Curtain drops. – Thunder and lightning.
The scene changes to Trove Mill, where a long gossip takes place over the new "nine days' wonder" of Squire Lovell having wedded Duffy for the sake of her knitting. Some say she will behave like most beggars put on horseback, and all the women agreed that they would rather be a young man's slave, and work their fingers to stumps, than be doomed to pass a weary time beside such an old withered stock; they should wish him dead and no help for it.
In the next, Duffy (now Madame Lovell) is beheld walking up and down her garden, or hall, decked out in a gown with a long train, hanging ruffles at her elbows, ruff of monstrous size round her neck, towering head-dress, high-heeled shoes, with bright buckles, earrings, necklace, fan, and all other accessories of old-fashioned finery. The bucca-boo is seen grinning, half-hidden, in the corner; whilst Madam walks she sings: —
"Now I have servants to come at my call,
As I walk in grand state through my hall,
Decked in silks and satins so fine:
But I grieve through the day,
And fret the long night away,
Thinking of my true-love, young Huey Lenine.
I weep through many a weary long hour,
As I sit all alone in my bower,
Where I do nothing but pine;
Whilst I grieve all the day,
And fret the long nights away,
In dreaming of