JUDITH: The father of my bairn ... JIM: She’s lying, Phœbe! JUDITH: The father of my bairn is--William Burn-- A stranger to these parts. Now, let me pass. (_She tries to slip by, but PHŒBE still does not make way for her._) JIM: Ay, Phœbe, let her go. She tells the truth. I thought ... But I mistook her. Let her go. I never reckoned you’d be a reesty nag: Yet, you can set your hoofs, and champ your bit With any mare, I see. I doubt you’ll prove A rackle ramstam wife, if you’ve your head. She’s answered what you asked; though, why, unless ... Well, I don’t blame the wench: she should ken best. PHŒBE: Judith, you lie. JUDITH: I lie! You mean ... PHŒBE: To-day, I married your bairn’s father. ELIZA: O God! JIM: Come, lass, I say! JUDITH: No woman, no! I spoke the truth. Haven’t I shamed myself enough already-- That you must call me liar! (_To ELIZA_) Speak out now, If you’re not tongue-tied: tell her all you ken-- How I’m a byword among honest women, And yet, no liar. You’d tongue enough just now To tell me what I was--a cruel tongue Cracking about my ears: and have you none To answer your son’s wife, and save the lad From scandal? ELIZA: I’ve not known the lass to lie ... And she’s the true heart, Phœbe, true as death, Whatever it may seem. JIM: That’s that: and so ... (_While they have been talking, EZRA has risen from the settle, unnoticed; and has hobbled to where PHŒBE and JUDITH confront one another. He suddenly touches PHŒBE’s arm._) EZRA: Cackling like guinea-fowl when a hawk’s in air! I must have snoozed; yet, I caught the gabble. There’ll be A clatter all day now, with two women’s tongues, Clack-clack against each other, in the house-- Two pendulums in one clock. Lucky I’m deaf. But, I remember. Give me back the bairn. Nay: this is not the wench. I want Jim’s bride-- The mother of his daughter. Judith, lass, Where are you? Come, I want to nurse my grandchild-- Jim’s little lass. ELIZA (_stepping towards EZRA_): Come, hold your foolish tongue. You don’t know what you’re saying. Come, sit down. (_Leads him back to the settle._) JIM: If he don’t stop his yammer, I’ll slit his weasen-- I’ll wring his neck for him!