R. When can we talk of anything else?

LADY. That's because you've despised it.

STRANGER. As I've despised everything....

LADY. But not everything's despicable. Some things are good.

STRANGER. I've never seen them.

LADY. Then follow me and you will.

STRANGER. I'll follow you. (He hesitates when passing the smithy.)

LADY (who has gone on ahead). Are you frightened of fire?

STRANGER. No, but... (The horn is heard in the distance. He hurries past
the smithy after the LADY.)

SCENE VII

IN A KITCHEN

[A large kitchen with whitewashed walls. Three windows in the corner,
right, so arranged that two are at the back and one in the right wall.
The windows are small and deeply recessed; in the recesses there are
flower pots. The ceiling is beamed and black with soot. In the left
corner a large range with utensils of copper, iron and tin, and wooden
vessels. In the corner, right, a crucifix with a lamp. Beneath it a
four-cornered table with benches. Bunches of mistletoe on the walls.
A door at the back. The Poorhouse can be seen outside, and through the
window at the back the church. Near the fire bedding for dogs and a
table with food for the poor.]

[The OLD MAN is sitting at the table beneath the crucifix, with his
hands clasped and a game bag before him. He is a strongly-built man of
over eighty with white hair and along beard, dressed as a forester. The
MOTHER is kneeling on the floor; she is grey-haired and nearly fifty;
her dress is of black-and-white material. The voices of men, women and
children can be clearly heard singing the last verse of the Angels'
Greeting in chorus. 'Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us poor sinners,
now and in the hour of death. Amen.']

OLD MAN and MOTHER. Amen!

MOTHER. Now I'll tell you, Father. They saw two vagabonds by the river.
Their clothing was torn and dirty, for they'd been in the water. And
when it came to paying the ferryman, they'd no money. Now they're drying
their clothes in the ferryman's hut.

OLD MAN. Let them stay there.

MOTHER. Don't forbid a beggar your house. He might be an angel.

OLD MAN. True. Let them come in.

MOTHER. I'll put food for them on the table for the poor. Do you mind
that?

OLD MAN. No.

MOTHER. Shall I give them cider?

OLD MAN. Yes. And you can light the fire; they'll be cold.

MOTHER. There's hardly time. But I will, if you wish it, Father.

OLD MAN (looking out of the window). I think you'd better.

MOTHER. Wha