What did you hear?
Bell:
A drunken blether-breeks
In a bar at Bellingham: and I recognized
Peter’s own brother, too; and guessed ’twas Jim:
And when they gossiped of Krindlesyke ... Oh, I ken
Ladies don’t listen: but not being a lady
Whiles has advantages: and when he left
His crony sprawling, splurging in the gutter,
I followed him, full-pelt, hot on his heel,
Guessing the hanniel was up to little good.
But he got here before me: so I waited
Outside, until I heard him blustering;
And judged it time to choke his cracking-croose.
I couldn’t have that wastrel making mischief
In Michael’s house: I didn’t quit Krindlesyke
That it might be turned into a tinker’s dosshouse,
Hotching with maggots like a reesty gowdy,
For any hammy, halfnabs, and hang-gallows
To stretch his lousy carcase in at ease,
After I’d slutted to keep it respectable
For fifteen-year.
Judith:
But what do you think he’s done—
Not murder?
Bell:
Murder? Nay: it takes a man
To murder.
Judith:
Ay ... But when you spoke of hanging,
He turned like death: and when he threatened you,
I saw blue-murder in his eyes.
Bell: