"Poor is the reward of the Big Preacher's son in this part," Essec announced. "A lot of atheists they are."
"Not pleading I have not the rent am I," said Madlen. "How if I prentice Joseph to a shop draper. Has he any odds?"
"Proper that you seek," replied Essec. "Seekers we all are. Sit you. No room there is for Joseph now I am selling Penlan."
"Like that is the plan of your head?" Madlen murmured, concealing her dread.
"Seven of pounds of rent is small. Sell at eighty I must."
"Wait for Joseph to prosper. Buy then he will. Buy for your mam you will, Joseph?"
"Sorry I cannot change my think," Essec declared.
"Hard is my lot; no male have I to ease my burden."
"A weighty responsibility my brother put on me," said Essec. "'Dying with old decline I am,' the brother mouthed. 'Fruitful is the soil. Watch Madlen keeps her fruitful.' But I am generous. Eight shall be the rent. Are you not the wife of my flesh?"
After she had wiped away her tears, "Be kind," said Madlen, "and wisdom it to Joseph."