'By God, it is,' he said. 'Through you, you slut.'
Backing, she screamed, until the blacksmith heard her.
'Hurry,' they cried, 'the woman's throat's being cut.'
Jim had his coat off by the water butt.
'He might come to,' he said, 'with wine or soup.
I only hit him once, like, with the scoop.
Splash water on him, chaps. I only meant
To hit him just a clip, like, nothing more.
There. Look. He isn't dead, his eyelids went.
And he went down. O God, his head's all tore.