John. [Also setting down his burden.] Ah, I be pleased for to lay aside yon.  ’Tis wonderful heavy work, this journeying to and fro with gold and silver.

Giles.  Our travelling is very nigh finished.  There lies the road which goes to Camel Farm.

George.  Oh, I count as that must be a rare sort of a place, master.

John.  Seeing as us haven’t stopped scarce an hour since us landed off the sea.

George.  But have come running all the while same as the fox may run in th’ early morning towards the poultry yard.

John.  Nor broke bread, nor scarce got a drop of drink to wet th’ insides of we.

Giles.  ’Tis very little further that you have got to journey, my good lads.  We are nigh to the end of our wayfaring.

George.  And what sort of a place be we a-coming to, master?

Giles.  ’Tis the place out of all the world to me.

John.  I count ’tis sommat rare and fine in that case, seeing as we be come from brave foreign parts, master.

Giles.  ’Tis rarer, and finer than all the foreign lands that lie beneath the sun, my lads.

George.  That’s good hearing, master.  And is the victuals like to be as fine as the place?

Giles.  O, you’ll fare well enough yonder.

John.  I was never one for foreign victuals, nor for the drink that was over there neither.

Giles.  Well, the both of you shall rest this night beneath the grandest roof that ever sheltered a man’s head.  And you shall sit at a table spread as you’ve not seen this many a year.

George.  That’ll be sommat to think on, master, when us gets upon our legs again.

John.  I be thinking of it ahead as I lies here, and that’s the truth.

[The two servants stretch themselves comfortably beneath the trees.  Giles walks restlessly backwards and forwards as though impatient at any delay.  From time to time he glances at a ring which he wears, sighing heavily as he does so.

[An old man comes up, leaning on his staff.

Old man.  Good-morning to you, my fine gentlemen.

Giles.  Good-morning, master.

Old man.  ’Tis a wonderful warm sun to-day.

Giles.  You’re right there, master.

Old man.  I warrant as you be journeying towards the same place where
I be going, my lord.

Giles.  And where is that, old master?

Old man.  Towards Camel Farm.

Giles.  You’re right.  ’Tis there and nowhere else that we are going.

Old man.  Ah, us’ll have to go smartish if us is to be there in time.

Giles.  In time for what, my good man?

Old man.  In time for to see the marrying, my lord.