In principio erat verbum! Accost thy mother!
[The Scarecrow, clutching at his side in a struggle for coherence, fixes a pathetic look of pain on Goody Rickby.]
THE SCARECROW Mother!
GOODY RICKBY [With a scream of hysterical laughter, seizes both Dickon’s hands and dances him about the forge.] O Beelzebub! I shall die!
DICKON Thou hast thy son. [Dickon whispers in the Scarecrow’s ear, shakes his finger, and exit.]
GOODY RICKBY He called me “mother.” Again, boy, again.
THE SCARECROW From the bottom of my heart—mother.
GOODY RICKBY “The bottom of his heart”—Nay, thou killest me.
THE SCARECROW Permit me, madam!
GOODY RICKBY Gilead! Gilead himself! Waistcoat, “permit me,” and all: thy father over again, I tell thee.