Ezra:
What’s wrong? What’s wrong?
I’m an old man, now; and must do as I’m bid like a bairn—
I, who was master, and did all the bidding.
And you, Jim, I’d have broken your back like a rabbit’s,
At one time, if you’d talked to me like that.
But now I’m old and sightless; and any tit
May chivvy a blind kestrel. Ay, I’m old
And weak—so waffly in arms and shanks, that now
I couldn’t even hold down a hog to be clipped:
So, boys can threaten me, and go unskelped:
So you can bray; and I must hold my peace:
Yet, mark my words, the hemp’s ripe for the rope
That’ll throttle you one day, you gallows-bird.
But, something’s happening that a blind man’s sense
Cannot take hold of; so, I’d best be quiet—
Ay, just sit still all day, and nod and nod,
Until I nod myself into my coffin:
That’s all that’s left me.
Judith (to Phœbe):
You’d weigh an old man’s gossip
Against my word? O woman, pay no heed
To idle tongues, if you’d keep happiness.
Phœbe:
While the tongue lies, the eyes speak out the truth.
Judith:
The eyes? Then you’ll not take my word for it,
But let a dotard’s clatterjaw destroy you?
You ken my worth: yet, if you care for Jim,
You’ll trust his oath. If he denies the bairn,
Then, you’ll believe? You’d surely never doubt
Your husband’s word, and on your wedding-day?
Small wonder you’d be duberous of mine.
But Jim’s not my sort; he’s an honest lad;
And he’ll speak truly. If he denies the bairn ...
Phœbe:
I’ve not been used to doubting people’s word.
My father’s daughter couldn’t but be trustful
Of what men said; for he was truth itself.
If only he’d lived, I mightn’t ...