Randal. A cut only.
Honor. Bleeding—stop it. (Turning from him coldly.)
Randal. Then by this blood—no, not by this worthless blood of mine—but by that dearest blood that fled from your cheeks, and this minute is coming back, Honor, I swear—(kneeling to her.)
Honor. Say what you will, or swear, I don’t hear or heed you. And my father will come and find you there—and I don’t care.
Randal. I know you don’t—and I don’t care myself what happens me. But as to Phil, it’s only a cut in the head he got, that signifies nothing—if he was not your brother.
Honor. Once lifted your hand against him—all’s over.
Randal. Honor, I did not lift my hand against him; but I was in the quarrel with his faction.
Honor. And this your promise to me not to be in any quarrel! No, if my father consented to-morrow, I’d nivir have you now. (Rises, and is going—he holds her.)
Randal. Then you’re wrong, Honor: you’ve heard all against me—now hear what’s for me.
Honor. I’ll hear no more—let me go.