BELL:
Well: they were none of mine. Last night I slept
’Neath Winter’s Stob ...

JIM:
What’s that to do with me?

BELL:
I slept till midnight, when a clank of chains
Awakened me: and, looking up, I saw
A body on the gibbet ...

JIM:
A body, woman?
No man’s hung there this hundred-year.

BELL:
I saw
A tattered corpse against the hagging moon,
Above me black.

JIM:
You didn’t see the face?

BELL:
I saw its face--before it disappeared,
And left the gibbet bare.

JIM:
You kenned the face?