[Approaches stall—Bull raises head suddenly.
A bull! This is a lark I've long awaited!
He's in a stable, so he should be baited.
[The Bull shows symptoms of acute depression at this jeu de mots; Lydia comes forward indignantly.
Lydia. I can't stand by and see that poor bull suffer!
Excitement's sure to make his beef taste tougher!
[The Bull emphatically corroborates this statement.
Be warned by Miss Jane Taylor; fractured skulls
Invariably come from teasing bulls!
So let that door alone, nor lift the latchet;
For if the bull gets out—why, then you'll catch it.
Jack. A fractured skull? Yah, don't believe a word of it!
[Raises latchet: chord; Bull comes slowly out, and crouches ominously; Jack retreats, and takes refuge on top of pump: the Bull, after scratching his back with his off foreleg, makes a sudden rush at Lydia.
Lydia (as she evades it). Here, help!—it's chasing me!—it's too absurd of it!
Go away, Bull—with me you have no quarrel!
[The Bull intimates that he is acting from a deep sense of duty.