You found me lost in the dirt: I was with Huff. You lifted me from there; and there again, Like a frightened urchin, you're for throwing me. Shale: Let it be that! I'm firm Not to have you about me, when the thing, Whatever it is, that's standing now behind The burning of the world, comes out on us. Huff: The way men cheat! This windle-stalk was he Would hold a show of spirit for the world To study while it ruined!--Make what you please Of your short wrangle here, but leave me out. I have my thoughts--O far enough from this. [Turning away.] Shale (seizing him): You shall not put me off. I tell you, Huff, You are to take her back now. Huff: Take her back! And what has she to do with what I want? Shale: Isn't she yours? I must be quit of her; I'll not be in the risk of keeping her. She's yours! Huff: And what's the good of her now to me? What's the good of a woman whom I've married? [During this, WARP the molecatcher has come in.] Warp: Shale and Huff at their old pother again! Merrick: The molecatcher. Sollers: Warp, have you travelled far? Is it through frenzy and ghastly crowds you've come? Vine: Have you got dreadful things to tell us, Warp? Warp: Why, no. But seemingly you'ld have had news for me, If I'd come later. Is Huff to murder Shale, Or Shale for murdering Huff? One way or 'tother, 'Tis time 'twas settled surely.--Mrs Huff, They're neither of them worth you: here's your health. [Draws and drinks.] Huff: Where have you been? Are you not new from folk That throng together in a pelting horror? Warp: Do you think the whole land hearkens to the flurry Of an old dog biting at a young dog's throat? Merrick: No, no! Not their shrill yapping; you've not heard The world's near to be blasted? Warp: No mutter of it. I am from walking the whole ground I trap, And there's no likeness of it, but the moles I've turned up dead and dried out of three counties. Sollers: Why, but the fire that's eating the whole earth; The breath of it is scarlet in the sky! You must have seen that? Warp: But what's taken you? You are like boys that go to hunt for ghosts, And turn the scuttle of rats to a roused demon Crawling to shut the door of the barn they search. Fire? Yes, fire is playing a pretty game Yonder, and has its golden fun to itself, Seemingly. Sollers: You don't know what 'tis that burns? Warp: Call me a mole and not a molecatcher If I do not. It is a rick that burns; And a strange thing I'll count it if the rick Be not old Huff's. Sollers: That flare a fired stack? Huff: Only one of my ricks alight? O Glory! There may be chance for me yet. Merrick: Best take the train To Droitwich, Huff. Vine (at the door): It would be like a stack, But for the star. Sollers (to WARP):