have travelled with horses: and it's sheep
His heart is set on still. But, I've no turn
For certainties myself: no sheep for me:
Life, with a tossing mane, and clattering hoofs,
The chancy life for me--not certain death,
With the stink of tar and sheepdip in my nostrils.

MICHAEL:
Life, with a clattering tongue, you mean to say.

BELL:
Well: you're a bonnie lass, I must admit:
And, if I'd fancied daughters, I might have done
Much worse than let young Michael pick them for me:
He's not gone poseying in the kitchen garden.
I never guessed he'd an eye for aught but ewes:
As, blind as other mothers, I'd have sworn
I'd kenned him, inside-out, since he was--nay!
But he was never a rapscallion ripstitch--
Always a prim and proper little man,
A butter-won't-melt-in-my-mouth young sobersides,
Since he found his own feet. Yet, the blade that's wed--
The jack-knife, turned into a pair of scissors--
Without a word, is not the son I thought him.
There's something of his mammy, after all,
In Michael: and as for you, my lass, you're just
Your minney's very spit.

RUTH:
You ken my mother?

BELL:
Ken Judith Ellershaw? You'll ask me, next,
If I'm acquainted with Bell Haggard. Well,
Gaping for turnips, Michael?

MICHAEL:
I never heard ...

BELL:
What have you heard this fifteen-year, except
The bleat of sheep, till Ruth's voice kittled your ear?
But, Judith sent some message by her daughter?

RUTH:
She doesn't ken I've come: nay, doesn't dream
I'm married even; though I meant to tell her
This morning; but I couldn't: she started so,
When I let slip Michael's name; and turned so pale.
I don't know why; but I feared some word of hers
Might come between us: and I couldn't let
Even my mother come between us now:
So, I pretended to set out for work
As usual: then, when we were married, went back
With Michael, to break the news. But the door was locked:
And neighbours said she was out--been gone some time:
And Michael was impatient to be home:
So, I had to come. I can't think what has happened.
I hated leaving her like that: I've never
In all my life done such a thing.

BELL:
Well, Michael
Should be relieved to learn it's a first offence.

RUTH:
She'd gone without a word ...

BELL:
A family failing--
And, happen, on like errand to your own.

RUTH:
Mother? Nay, she's too old: you said you knew her.