(As he seats himself, with his back to the door, the head of Bell Haggard, in her orange-coloured kerchief, peeps round the jamb: then slowly withdraws, unseen of Jim or Judith.)
Jim:
Fetch up the swipes and shag. I can reach the cutty ...
(He takes down Michael’s pipe from the mantel-shelf; and sticks it between his teeth: but Judith snatches at it, breaking the stem, and flings the bowl on the fire.)
Judith:
And you, to touch his pipe!
(Jim stares at her, startled, as she stands before him, with drawn face and set teeth: then, still eyeing her uneasily, begins to bluster.)
Jim:
You scarting randy!
I’ll teach you manners. That’s a good three-halfpence
Smashed into smithereens: and all for nothing.
I’ve lammed a wench for less. I’ve half a mind
To snap you like the stopple, you yackey-yaa!
De’il rive your sark! It’s long since I’ve had the price
Of a clay in my pouch: and I’m half-dead for a puff.
What’s taken you? What’s set you agee with me?
You used to like me; and you always seemed
A menseful body: and I lippened to you.
But you’re just a wheepie-leekie weathercock
Like the lave of women, when a man’s mislucket,
Moidart and mismeaved and beside himself.
I fancied I’d be in clover at Krindlesyke,
With you and all: but, sink me, if I haven’t
Just stuck my silly head into a bee-bike!
What’s turned you vicious? I only want to smoke
A cutty in peace: and you go on the rampage.
I mustn’t smoke young master’s pipe, it seems—
His pipe, no less! Young cock-a-ride-a-roosie
Is on the muckheap now; and all the hens
Are clucking round him. I ken what it is:
The cockmadendy’s been too easy with you.
It doesn’t do to let you womenfolk
Get out of hand. It’s time I came, i’ faiks,
To pull you up, and keep you in your place.
I’ll have no naggers, narr-narring all day long:
I’ll stand no fantigues. If the cull’s too soft ...
Judith: