JUDITH:
It’s Ruth’s and Michael’s.

JIM:
My daughter’s and her man’s: their home’s my home.

JUDITH:
You shall not stay.

JIM:
It’s got to “shall not” now?
The cuckoo’s changed his tune; but I can’t say
I like the new note better: it’s too harsh:
The gowk’s grown croupy. But, lass, I never thought
You’d be harsh with me: yet even you’ve turned raspy ...
First “cannot,” then ...

JUDITH:
Nay! I’ll not have their home
Pulled down about their ears by any man;
And least of all by you--the home they’ve made ...

JIM:
Stolen, I’d say.

JUDITH:
Together, for themselves
And their three boys.