He might, if he’d a mind to it,
Be digging out our tongues,
Or dragging out our hair,
Or bleaching us like calves,
Or weaning us like lambs,
But for the kindness and the softness that is in him.
[They gasp for breath.
FIRST CRIPPLE.
I’ll curse him till I drop!
[Speaking at same time as SECOND CRIPPLE and MAYOR and BRIAN, who have begun again.