"Nay, in sooth, sweet Mistress Margaret, the last i' the world."
"And he would not look at my child. I'll fling myself and him into the Rotter this night."
"Oh fie, fie! eh, my sweet woman, speak not so. Is any man that breathes worth your child's life?"
"My child! where is he? Why, Reicht, I have left him behind. Oh shame! is it possible I can love him to that degree as to forget my child? Ah! I am rightly served for it."
And she sat down, and faithful Reicht beside her, and they sobbed in one another's arms.
After a while Margaret left off sobbing and said, doggedly, "Let us go home."
"Ay, but the bairn?"
"Oh! he is well where he is. My heart is turned against my very child. He cares nought for him; wouldn't see him, nor hear speak of him; and I took him there so proud, and made his hair so nice I did, and put his new frock and cowl on him. Nay, turn about: it's his child as well as mine; let him keep it awhile: mayhap that will learn him to think more of its mother and his own."
"High words off an empty stomach," said Reicht.
"Time will show. Come thou home."