Hugh the Drover, Act I: Pt. 21. Alone and Friendless, on This Foreign Ground

Hugh: Alone and friendless, on this foreign ground

I am to die – your champion here has sworn it.

But who would give his life for twenty pound?

Oh wretched price – a Christmas ox would scorn it.

Crowd: What’s that? He will not fight?

What is he after now?

Hugh: If I must die, I’ll die for something worth –

Die that my death may live in song and story;

Die for the fairest thing in all this earth.

Oh happy death, that spreads abroad her glory!

Crowd: Will he not fight, then?

John: What in the devil’s name do you mean?

What will you fight me for then?

Hugh: (pointing to Mary) For that girl.

John: What?

Hugh: For Mary there! I’ll fight for her alone!

John: You ruffian! You’ve stolen away my bride.

For this I’ll kill you!

Showman: Hurrah, the best man in England for twenty pounds and a pretty wife!

Mary escapes from Aunt Jane and runs across to Hugh. The men start setting up the prize ring.

Mary: Ah no! you shall not fight him, O my heart,

Would you seek death and go for aye from me?

How shall I bear to live when you are gone!

O take me now before it is too late.

Hugh: O love, fear not, your prison doors shall part.

My little linnet, you shall soon be free.

Henceforth you shall not lie and sob alone;

Henceforth you’re rid of cruelty and hate.

Constable: Is my authority thus set aside?

I never saw such doings in my life.

If John don’t finish off the fellow pat,

I’ll have him safely in the parish stocks.

John: I’ll put a stopper on the fellow’s pride.

What? Does he think that he can steal my wife?

If he can fight – why, two can play at that!

I’ll smash him as I smash a Christmas ox.

Aunt Jane: O dear, O dear, what’s come upon us all?

My Mary’s clean bewitched, it’s plain as plain.

Poor child, she’s gone quite daft about this Hugh.

And if he’s beat she’ll break her pretty heart.

Women: Now mercy send it’s John that gets the fall,

Or else his ways will be as bad again.

O bless my heart, I’m mortal scared, aren’t you?

I wish they’d make it up before they start.

John's Supporters: setting up the ring

Oh John’s the boy to teach the rogue his place.

You’ll kill him, John; ’twill serve the fellow right.

You’ll knock him into pulp in half a round.

We want no strangers poaching round this way.

Men: Now, drover, in and smash his ugly face.

Young John’s a nasty customer to fight.

Keep cool and quick you’ll beat him, I’ll be bound.

Go for his wind; you’ll find he cannot stay.

John: My Mary’s in his arms ’fore all the town?

Constable: My grey hairs to the grave in shame go down.

The shameful hussy, what has she to say to it?

John:  I’ll crack the fellow’s skull, and make him pay for it!

Constable: He’d best take care! He has not won her yet.

John: I’ll kill him, never fear, and win the bet.

Constable and John:

Now, Hugh the drover, take her if you can;

We soon shall see who’ll prove the better man!

Turnkey: O dear, O dear,

’Tis murder I fear.

The thought of a fight

Puts me in a fright.

Women: I hope they won’t fight,

It’s surely not right.

But, once they begin,

’Tis John that will win.

The men gather round John and Hugh respectively.

Robert: The ring’s prepared.

Showman: (on tub) Are you ready?

John and Hugh: Yes, ready!

Showman: Whoop!

He throws his hat high in the air. It falls into the ring. John and Hugh get inside and shake hands. All except Mary and June crowd round, so that John and Hugh are hardly visible. John’s supporters left, Hugh’s right.