JIM: I’ll not be taken here, Like a brock in his earth: I’ll not be trapped and torn ... Yet, I don’t know. Why should I go? No worse To be taken here than elsewhere: and I’m dead beat: I’m all to rovers, my wit’s all gone agate: And how can I travel in these boots? A week since The soles bid a fond farewell to the uppers: I’ve been Hirpling it, barefoot--ay, kind lady, barefoot. You’d hardly care to be in my shoes, Judith? While you’ve been sitting doose ... JUDITH: I’ve known the road: I’ve trudged it, too, lad: and your feet are bleeding. I’ll bathe them for you, Jim, before you go: And you shall have a pair of Michael’s boots. JIM: So, I may have young master’s cast-off boots, Since he’s stepped into my shoes--a fair swap! And tug my forelock, like a lousy tinker; And whine God bless the master of this house, Likewise the mistress, too ... By gox, I’ve come To charity--Jim Barrasford’s come to mooch For charity at Krindlesyke! Shanks’s mare’s A sorry nag at best; and lets you down, Sooner or later, for certain--the last straw, When a man can’t trust his feet, and his own legs Give under him, in his need, and bring him down A devasher in the ditch as the dogs are on him! You’re sorry? I don’t know. How can I tell? You’re sly, you faggit; but don’t get over Jim With jookery-pawkry, Judith: I may be maiselt, But I’ve a little rummelgumption left: I still ken a bran from a brimmer--bless your heart! It suits you to get rid of me; and you judge It’s cheaply done at the price of a pair of tackities. Nay: I’ll be taken here. JUDITH: You cannot stay. JIM: Do you take me for a cangling cadger, to haggle ... Forgimety! I cannot ... God’s truth, I dare not! You’ve got me on the hop; and I must hirple; But if I go, I will not go alone: I’ve a mind to have a partner for this polka. JUDITH: Alone? And who do you think that ... JIM: Who but you? JUDITH: I! JIM: If I’ve got to take the road again, You’ve got to pad it with me: for I’m tired Of travelling lonesome: I’ve a mind to have My doxy with me. By crikes! I’m fleyed to face The road again, alone. You’ll come ... JUDITH: I cannot. How could I leave ... JIM: Then I’ll be taken here: You’ll be to blame. JUDITH: But, Jim, how could I leave ... JIM: The sooner it’s over, the better I’ll be pleased. JUDITH: You mustn’t stop: and yet, I cannot go. How could I leave the bairn? JIM: The brat’s asleep. JUDITH: It won’t sleep long. JIM: Its mammy’ll soon be home. JUDITH: Not for three hours, at earliest. JIM: Then I’ll wait Till then: they can’t be on my track so soon: And when its dad and mammy come back ... JUDITH: Nay, nay: They mustn’t find you here.