hell,
To talk so lightly. I have come through hell:
But you have never loved. What's given in love,
Is given. It's something to have loved, at least:
And I have Ruth.

BELL:
Ay, the green bracken-shoots,
Soon push through the black litter of charred heath:
And you have Ruth.

JUDITH:
Or, had her, till last night:
I've lost her, now, it seems.

BELL:
You let life hurt you:
You shy at shadows; and shrink from the crack of the whip,
Before the lash stings: and life loves no sport
Like yarking a shivering hide: you ask for it.

JUDITH:
I've been through much.

BELL:
And so, you should ken better
Than to hang yourself, before the judge gives sentence:
His honour can put the black cap on for himself,
Without your aid. You'll die a thousand deaths,
Before your end comes, peacefully in bed.
Why should you go half-way to meet your funeral?

JUDITH:
Though there's a joy in giving recklessly,
In flinging all your faggots on the blaze,
In losing all for love--a crazy joy
Long years of suffering cannot quench, I'd have
Ruth spared that madness: and kenning she's just myself
Born over, how could I sleep with the dread upon me?
She'd throw herself away; would burn to waste,
Suffering as I have ...

BELL:
Anyway, you burned:
And who's to say what burns to waste, even when
The kindled peatstack fires the steading? Far better
To perish in a flare, than smoulder away
Your life in smother: and what are faggots for,
If not for firing? But, you've suffered, woman,
More than need be, because you were ashamed.
The lurcher that slinks with drooping tail and lugs
Just asks for pelting. It's shame makes life bad travelling--
The stone in the shoe that lames you. Other folk
Might be ashamed to do the things I've done:
That's their look-out; they've got no call to do them:
I've never done what I would blush to own to:
I've got my self-respect. For all my talk,
I'm proud of Michael: and you're proud of Ruth,
I take it?

JUDITH:
Ay.

BELL:
Then, where's the need for shame,
Because they were come-by-chances? A mean thief
That snivels, because the fruit he relishes
Is stolen; and keeps munching it to the core.
Married, and so lived happily ever after?
A deal of virtue in a wedding-ring:
And marriage-lines make all the difference, don't they?
Your man and mine were born in lawful wedlock: