Peter:
By gox, she is!
Bell:
And there’s not room for two such in one house.
Where I am mistress, there can be no master:
So, don’t try on your pretty tricks with me.
I’ve always taken the whiphand with men.
Peter:
You’ll smart yet, dad.
Bell:
You go about your business,
Before your feet get frozen to the flagstones:
Winter’s but six months off, you ken. It’s time
You were watering those sheep, before their tongues
Are baked as black as your heart. You’d better take
The lad along with you: he cannot learn
The job too soon; so I’ll get shot of the sight
Of your mug, and have one lout the less to do for.
Come, frisk your feet, the pair of you; and go:
I’ve that to do which I must do alone.
(As soon as Peter and Michael are gone, Bell fills a basin with water from a bucket, and carries it into the other room, shutting the door behind her.)
Ezra: