Wedded, and settled down at Krindlesyke,
To do his parents credit, and carry on ...
First Peter came: it snowed the night he came--
A feeding-storm of fisselling dry snow.
I lay and watched flakes fleetering out of the dark
In the candleshine against the wet black glass,
Like moths about a lanthorn ... I lay and watched,
Till the pains were on me ... And they buzzed like bees,
The snowflakes in my head--hot, stinging bees ...
It snowed again, the night he went.... In the smother
I lost him, in a drift down Bloodysyke ...
I couldn't follow further: the snow closed in--
Dry flakes that stung my face like swarming bees,
And blinded me ... and buzzing, till my head
Was all ahum; and I was fair betwattled ...
I've not set eyes ...

EZRA:
Gather your wits together.
There's no one else; and you must go to Rawridge--
No daundering on the road; and tell John Steel
Jim's gone: and so, there's none to look to the sheep.
He must send someone ... Though my money melt
In the hot pocket of a vagabond,
They must be minded: sheep can't tend themselves.

ELIZA:
I'll go. 'Twas cruel to leave them in this heat,
With none to water them. This heat's a judgment.
They were my sons: I bore and suckled them.
This heat's a judgment on me, pressing down
On my brain like a redhot iron ...

(_She rises with difficulty, and goes, bareheaded, into the sunshine.
In a few moments she staggers back, and stumbles, with unseeing eyes,
towards the inner room. She pauses a second at the door, and turns,
as if to speak to EZRA; but goes in, without a word. Presently a soft
thud is heard within: then a low moan._)

EZRA:
Who's there? Not you,
Eliza? You can't be back already, woman?
Why don't you speak? You yammered enough, just now--
Such havers! Haven't you gone? What's keeping you?
I told you to step out. What's wrong? What's wrong?
You're wambling like a wallydraigling waywand.
The old ewe's got the staggers. Boodyankers!
If I wasn't so crocked and groggy, I'd make a fend
To go myself--ay, blind bat as I am.
Come, pull yourself together; and step lively.
What's that? What's that? I can't hear anything now.
Where are you, woman? Speak! There's no one here--
Though I'd have sworn I heard the old wife waigling,
As if she carried a hoggerel on her shoulders.
I heard a foot: yet, she couldn't come so soon.
I'm going watty. My mind's so set on dogging
The heels of that damned thi