Till he’d found someone else to victual him,
And make his bed, and darn his hose; and you
Seem born to take the job out of my hands.

RUTH:
But I’d not come between you ...

BELL:
Think not, lass?
I bear you no ill-will: you set me free.
I’m a wildcat, all bristling fur and claws:
At Krindlesyke, I’ve been a wildcat, caged:
And Michael never twigged! Son, don’t you mind
The day we came--was I a tabby then?
The day we came here, with no thought to bide,
Once we had got the plunder; and were trapped
Between these four white walls by a dead woman?
She held me--forced my feet into her shoes--
Held me for your sake. Ay: there seemed some link
’Twixt your dead grannie and you, too strong for me
To break; though it’s been strained to the snapping-point,
Times out of mind, whenever a hoolet’s screech
Sang through my blood; or poaching foxes barked
On a shiny night to the cackle of wild geese,
Travelling from sea to sea far overhead:
Or whenever, waking in the quiet dark,
The ghosts of horses whinneyed in my heart.
Ghosts! Nay, I’ve been the mare between the limmers
Who hears the hunters gallop gaily by;
Or, rather, the hunter, bogged in a quaking moss,