But when
You found him out?
Judith:
If you had loved, you’d ken
That finding out makes little difference.
There are things in this life you don’t understand,
For all your ready tongue.
Bell:
Ay: men and women
I’ve given up—just senseless marionettes,
Jigging and bobbing to the twitching strings:
Though I like to fancy I pick my steps, and choose
The tunes I dance to; happen, that’s my pride;
But, choose or not, we’ve got to pay the piper.
Judith:
Ay: in your pride, you think you’ve the best of life.
You’re missing more than you reckon, the best of all.
Bell:
Well, I’ve no turn for penal servitude.
But, have you never gabbed to keep your heart up?
What are hats for, if not for talking through?
Pride—we’ve both pride; yours, hot and fierce, and mine
Careless and cold: yet, both came the same cropper—
Not quite ... for you were hurt to death almost:
While I picked myself up, scatheless; not a scratch;
Only my skirt torn; and it always draggled.
Judith: