Stay, I will bind it! See you keep
Your hand up, child. Quick, mother, bring
Yon water fresh-drawn from the spring
To wash it clean, for there was rust.
(Anna brings the water bowl, while Reuben draws forward a low bench at one end of which she sets it down)
Maybe, upon the iron, or dust
To cause a festering in the wound.
(Mary bathes his hand and binds it. The child closes his eyes and sinks against her breast.)
Anna.—
Oh! See, he has already swooned