Krindlesyke | Page 5

here ...
EZRA:
I wish he'd married Judith:?She's none the worse for being a ruddled ewe.
ELIZA:?Nay, God forbid! At least, I'm spared that bildert.
(_EZRA rises; and ELIZA carries out his chair, and he hobbles after her. She soon returns, and puts griddle-cakes into the oven to keep hot. Presently a step is heard on the threshold, and JUDITH ELLERSHAW stands in the doorway, a baby in her arms. ELIZA does not notice her for a few moments; then, glancing up, recognizes her with a start._)
ELIZA:?You, Judith Ellershaw! I thought 'twas Jim.
JUDITH:?You thought 'twas Jim?
ELIZA:
Jim and ... To think it's you!?Where've you sprung from? It's long since you've shown face In these parts; and we'd seen the last of you,?I reckoned, little dreaming--and, least of all,?To-day!
JUDITH:
And should I be more welcome, then,?On any other?
ELIZA:
Welcome? I hardly know.?Decent folk don't keep open house for your sort?At any time. Your foot's not dirtied that doorstone?A dozen times in your life: and then, to come,?To-day, of all days, just when Jim ...
(_Breaks off abruptly._)
JUDITH:
When Jim?
ELIZA:?But, don't stand there. You're looking pale and peaked.?It's heavy, traiking the fell-tracks with a baby:?Come in, and rest a moment, if you're tired.?You cannot bide here long: I'm sorry, lass;?But I'm expecting company; and you?Yourself, I take it, won't be over-eager?For company.
JUDITH:
I'm tired enough, God kens--?Bone-weary: but we'll not stay long, to shame you:?And you can send us packing in good time,?Before your company comes.
(_She enters, and seats herself on a chair near the door. ELIZA busies herself, laying the table for tea, and there is silence for a while._)
JUDITH:
And so, Jim's gone?To fetch the company?
ELIZA:
Ay, Jim has gone ...
(_She breaks off again abruptly, and says no more for a while. Presently she goes to the oven, takes out a griddle-cake, splits and butters it, and hands it to JUDITH._)
ELIZA:?Likely, you're hungry, and could do with a bite?
JUDITH (_taking it_):?I'm famished. Cake! We're grand, to-day, indeed!?And scones and bannocks--carties, quite a spread!?It's almost like a wedding.
ELIZA:
A wedding, woman??Can't folk have scones and bannocks and singing-hinnies,?But you must prate of weddings--you, and all!
JUDITH:?I meant no harm. I thought, perhaps, Jim might ...?Though, doubtless, he was married long ago?
(_ELIZA does not answer. JUDITH's baby begins to whimper, and she tries to hush it in an absent manner._)
JUDITH:?Whisht, whisht! my little lass! You mustn't cry,?And shame the ears of decent folk. Whisht, whisht!
ELIZA:?Why, that's no way to hush the teelytoon.?Come, give the bairn to me. Come, woman, come!
(_Taking the child from JUDITH._)?I'll show you how to handle babies. There!
JUDITH:?And you would nurse my brat?
ELIZA:
A bairn's a bairn--?Ay, even though its mother ...
(_Breaks off abruptly, and stands, gazing before her, clasping the baby to her bosom._)
JUDITH:
Why don't you finish??"Ay, even though its mother ..." you were saying.
ELIZA:?It's ill work, calling names.
JUDITH:
You needn't fear?To make me blush by calling me any name?That hasn't stung me to the quick already.?My pious father had a holy tongue;?And he had searched the Scriptures to some purpose.
ELIZA (_gazing before her in an abstracted manner_):?Ay: likely enough.... Poor bairn, poor little bairn--?It's strange, but, as you snuggled to my breast,?I could have fancied, a moment, 'twas Jim I held?In my arms again. I'm growing old and foolish,?To have such fancies.
JUDITH:
Fancied 'twas Jim, your son--?My bastard brat?
ELIZA:
Shame on you, woman, to call?Your own bairn such, poor innocent. It's not?To blame for being a chance-bairn. Yet ... O Jim!
JUDITH:?Why do you call on Jim? He's not come home yet??But I must go, before your son brings back ...?Give me the bairn ...
ELIZA (_withholding the baby_):?Nay, daughter, not till I learn?The father's name.
JUDITH:
What right have you ...
ELIZA:
God kens ...?And yet ...
JUDITH:
Give me the bairn. You'll never learn?The father's name from me.
ELIZA:
Go, daughter, go.?What ill-chance made you come to-day, of all days?
JUDITH:?Why not to-day? Come, woman, I'd ken that,?Before I go. I've half a mind to stay.
ELIZA:?Nay, lass, you said ...
JUDITH:
I've said a lot, in my time.?I've changed my mind. 'Twas Jim I came to see--?Though why, God kens! I liked the singing-hinny:?Happen, there'll be some more for me, if I stay.?I find I cannot thrive on nettle-broth:?And it's not every day ...
ELIZA:
Judith, you ken.
JUDITH:?Ken? I ken nothing, but what you tell me.
ELIZA:
Daughter,?I'll tell you all. You'll never have the heart ...
JUDITH:?The heart!
ELIZA:
To stay and shame us, when you ken all.
JUDITH:?All?
ELIZA:
When you talked of weddings, you'd hit the truth:?And Jim brings home his bride to-day. Even now ...
JUDITH:?And Jim brings home ...
ELIZA:
I looked for them by this:?But you've still time ...
JUDITH:
The bride comes home to-day.?Brides should come home: it's right a man should bring?His bride home--ay! And we must go, my wean,?To spare her blushes. We're no company?For bride and bridegroom. Happen, we should meet them,?You must not cry to him: I must not lift?My eyes to his. We're nothing now to him.?Your cry might tell her heart too much: my eyes?Might meet her eyes,