Susan. [Distractedly.] O I can never give him up.

Grandmother.  He’ll never be yourn to give—­Dance till your legs is off and he’ll have naught to say to a gipsy brat when ’tis all finished.

Alice.  Whilst my lady belongs to his lordship’s own class, ’tis but suitable as she should be the one to wed with him—­knowing the foreign tongues and all, and playing so sweetly on her instruments.  There’s a lady anyone would be proud to take before the Court in London.

[Susan turns away with a movement of despair.  The grandmother begins to smoke again.  Lady Millicent fans herself and Alice arranges her own shawl.

Grandmother.  I could do with a little pig up at our place if I’d the silver to take into the market for to buy him with. [A silence.

Grandmother.  And I could do with a pair of good shoes to my poor old feet come winter time when ’tis snowing. [Another silence.

Grandmother.  And ’twould be good not to go to bed with the pain of hunger within my lean old body—­so ’twould. [Susan turns round suddenly.

Susan.  I’ll do it, Gran.  I’ll do it for your sake.  ’Tis very likely true what you do say, all of you.  I’d but dance my feet off for naught.  When he came to look into my gipsy eyes, ’twould all be over and done with.

Lady Millicent.  Sensible girl.

Alice.  ’Tis time she should see which way her bread was spread.

Susan.  Come, Jockie, come ladies—­come Gran—­we’ll be off to the quiet of our own place where I can learn her ladyship the steps and capers.

Grandmother. [Rising and pointing to an advancing figure.] You’d best make haste.  The mice be a-running from their holes once more—­ t’wouldn’t do for they to know aught about this.

Susan.  Let us go quickly then.

[The grandmother, Susan, lady Millicent with Alice and Jockie go out as a crowd of village girls come on to the green, and laughing and talking together, arrange themselves to practise a Country Dance.

End of Act I.

Act II.—­Scene 1.

Groups of village girls are sitting or standing about on the green. 
A dais has been put up at one end of it.

Marion.  How slow the time do pass, this May Day.

Rose.  Let’s while it away with a song or two.

[They all join in singing.  At the end of the song the gipsy comes slowly and painfully across the green, casting black looks to right and to left.  She is followed by Susan, who appears weighed down by sadness.

Rose.  Good afternoon, Princess Royal Rags.  Are we to see you cutting capers before his lordship this afternoon?

Marion.  Get along and hide your bare feet behind the tree, Royal. 
I’d be ashamed to go without shoes if ’twas me.