Hud. Not here? That woman? Are you mad, my girl?
Her. I love Famette. If we were one, I'd be
But cinders in her saintly fire.
Hud. Here, miss?
You've had her with you? Sniffed and cheeped together,
And drowned my kingdom in a gossip cup?
Her. If men, the bravest, are but flies upon
Your monarch ermine, that with careless shake
You scatter, can you fear a woman?
Hud. What?
Mocked by a chit? I fear? You mannerless filly,
I've let you plunge and ramp o'er all my fields,
But I'll not have you whinnying at the fence
Till roadside jades break through! She has been here?
Her. She has. Dined at my board, slept in my bed,
And so shall do again.
Hud. I'll welcome her!
And send you trucking home! You shall not wait
For any whimsy this or that!
Her. But, sir,——
Hud. No trumpery packing,—no unready whine!
This hour! That you should moil your royalty
Touching such scum!
Her. Nay, I was scum until she gave me substance.
I had no soul until she made hers mine,
No cleanliness of heart till I knew hers,
No knowledge till I looked through her clear eyes,
No riches till I wrapped me in her rags——