EZRA: Well, we"d our time of it, Fools, or no fools. And you could laugh in those days, And didn"t sn.i.g.g.e.r like the ginger fizgig.
Your voice was a bird"s: but you laugh little now; And--well, maybe, your voice is still a bird"s.
There"s birds and birds. Then, "twas a cushy-doo"s That"s brooding on her nest, while the red giglet"s Was a gowk"s at the end of June. Do you call to mind We sat the livelong day in a golden carriage, Squandering a fortune, forby the tanner I dropt?
They wouldn"t stop to let me pick it up; And when we alighted from the roundabout, Some skunk had pouched it: may he pocket it Red-hot in h.e.l.l through all eternity!
If I"d that fortune now safe in my kist!
But I was a scatterpenny: and you were bonnie-- Pink as a dog-rose were your plump cheeks then: Your hair"d the gloss and colour of clean straw: And when, at darkening, the naphtha flares were kindled, And all the red and blue and gold aglitter-- Drums banging, trumpets braying, rattles craking; And we were rushing round and round, the music-- The music and the dazzle ...
ELIZA: Ay: that was it-- The rushing and the music and the dazzle.
Happen "twas on a roundabout that Jim Won Phbe Martin.
EZRA: And when you were dizzy, And all a hazegaze with the hubblyshew; You cuddled up against me, snug and warm: And round and round we went--the music braying And beating in my blood: the gold aglitter ...
ELIZA: And there"s been little dazzle since, or music.
EZRA: But I was merry, till I fetched you home, To swarm the house with whinging wammerels.
ELIZA: You fetched me from my home. If I"d but known Before I crossed the threshold. I took my arles, And had to do my darg. And another bride Comes now. They"ll soon be here: the train was due At half-past one: they"d walk it in two hours, Though bride and groom.
EZRA: I wish he"d married Judith.
Cow-eyed, you called the wench; but cows have horns, And, whiles, they use them when you least expect.
"Twould be no flighty heifer you"d to face, If she turned mankeen. But, I liked the runt.
Jim might do worse.
ELIZA: You liked ... But come, I"ll set Your chair outside, where you can feel the sun; And hearken to the curlew; and be the first To welcome Jim and Phbe as man and wife.
Come!
EZRA: Are the curlew calling?
ELIZA: Calling? Ay!
And they"ve been at it all the blessed day, As on the day I came to Krindlesyke.
Likely the new bride--though "twasn"t at the time I noticed them: too heedless and new-fangled.
She may be different: she may hear them now: They"re noisy enough.
EZRA: I cannot catch a note: I"m getting old, and deaved as well as darkened.
When I was young, I liked to hear the whaups Calling to one another down the slacks: And I could whistle, too, like any curlew.
"Twas an ancient bird wouldn"t answer my call: and now I"m ancient myself--an old, blind, doddering heron, Dozing his day out in a syke, while minnows Play tiggy round his shanks and nibble his toes; And the hawk hangs overhead. But then the blood Was hot, and I"d a relish--such a relish!
Keen as a kestrel ... and now ...
ELIZA: It"s Jim and Phbe-- The music and the dazzle in their heads: And they"ll be here ...
EZRA: I wish he"d married Judith: She"s none the worse for being a ruddled ewe.
ELIZA: Nay, G.o.d forbid! At least, I"m spared that bildert.
(_EZRA rises; and ELIZA carries out his chair, and he hobbles after her. She soon returns, and puts griddle-cakes into the oven to keep hot. Presently a step is heard on the threshold, and JUDITH ELLERSHAW stands in the doorway, a baby in her arms. ELIZA does not notice her for a few moments; then, glancing up, recognizes her with a start._)
ELIZA: You, Judith Ellershaw! I thought "twas Jim.
JUDITH: You thought "twas Jim?
ELIZA: Jim and ... To think it"s you!
Where"ve you sprung from? It"s long since you"ve shown face In these parts; and we"d seen the last of you, I reckoned, little dreaming--and, least of all, To-day!
JUDITH: And should I be more welcome, then, On any other?
ELIZA: Welcome? I hardly know.
Decent folk don"t keep open house for your sort At any time. Your foot"s not dirtied that doorstone A dozen times in your life: and then, to come, To-day, of all days, just when Jim ...
(_Breaks off abruptly._)
JUDITH: When Jim?
ELIZA: But, don"t stand there. You"re looking pale and peaked.
It"s heavy, traiking the fell-tracks with a baby: Come in, and rest a moment, if you"re tired.
You cannot bide here long: I"m sorry, la.s.s; But I"m expecting company; and you Yourself, I take it, won"t be over-eager For company.
JUDITH: I"m tired enough, G.o.d kens-- Bone-weary: but we"ll not stay long, to shame you: And you can send us packing in good time, Before your company comes.
(_She enters, and seats herself on a chair near the door. ELIZA busies herself, laying the table for tea, and there is silence for a while._)
JUDITH: And so, Jim"s gone To fetch the company?
ELIZA: Ay, Jim has gone ...
(_She breaks off again abruptly, and says no more for a while. Presently she goes to the oven, takes out a griddle-cake, splits and b.u.t.ters it, and hands it to JUDITH._)
ELIZA: Likely, you"re hungry, and could do with a bite?
JUDITH (_taking it_): I"m famished. Cake! We"re grand, to-day, indeed!
And scones and bannocks--carties, quite a spread!
It"s almost like a wedding.
ELIZA: A wedding, woman?
Can"t folk have scones and bannocks and singing-hinnies, But you must prate of weddings--you, and all!
JUDITH: I meant no harm. I thought, perhaps, Jim might ...
Though, doubtless, he was married long ago?
(_ELIZA does not answer. JUDITH"s baby begins to whimper, and she tries to hush it in an absent manner._)
JUDITH: Whisht, whisht! my little la.s.s! You mustn"t cry, And shame the ears of decent folk. Whisht, whisht!
ELIZA: Why, that"s no way to hush the teelytoon.
Come, give the bairn to me. Come, woman, come!
(_Taking the child from JUDITH._) I"ll show you how to handle babies. There!
JUDITH: And you would nurse my brat?
ELIZA: A bairn"s a bairn-- Ay, even though its mother ...