Part 5 (1/2)

She love you? She? O Jimmy, let her go; I was so happy, dear, before she came, And now I'm going to the grave in shame.

I bore you, Jimmy, in this very room.

For fifteen years I got you all you had, You were my little son, made in my womb, Left all to me, for G.o.d had took your dad, You were a good son, doing all I bade, Until this strumpet came from G.o.d knows where, And now you lie, and I am in despair.

Jimmy, I won't say more. I know you think That I don't know, being just a withered old, With chaps all fallen in and eyes that blink, And hands that tremble so they cannot hold.

A bag of bones to put in churchyard mould, A red-eyed hag beside your evening star.'

And Jimmy gulped, and thought 'By G.o.d, you are.'

'Well, if I am, my dear, I don't pretend.

I got my eyes red, Jimmy, making you.

My dear, before our love time's at an end Think just a minute what it is you do.

If this were right, my dear, you'd tell me true; You don't, and so it's wrong; you lie; and she Lies too, or else you wouldn't lie to me.

Women and men have only got one way And that way's marriage; other ways are l.u.s.t.

If you must marry this one, then you may, If not you'll drop her.'

'No.' 'I say you must.

Or bring my hairs with sorrow to the dust.

Marry your wh.o.r.e, you'll pay, and there an end.

My G.o.d, you shall not have a wh.o.r.e for friend.

By G.o.d, you shall not, not while I'm alive.

Never, so help me G.o.d, shall that thing be.

If she's a woman fit to touch she'll wive, If not she's wh.o.r.e, and she shall deal with me.

And may G.o.d's blessed mercy help us see And may He make my Jimmy count the cost, My little boy who's lost, as I am lost.'

People in love cannot be won by kindness, And opposition makes them feel like martyrs.

When folk are crazy with a drunken blindness, It's best to flog them with each other's garters, And have the flogging done by Shrops.h.i.+re carters, Born under Ercall where the while stones lie; Ercall that smells of honey in July.

Jimmy said nothing in reply, but thought That mother was an old, hard jealous thing.

'I'll love my girl through good and ill report, I shall be true whatever grief it bring.'

And in his heart he heard the death-bell ring For mother's death, and thought what it would be To bury her in churchyard and be free.

He saw the narrow grave under the wall, Home without mother nagging at his dear, And Anna there with him at evenfall, Bidding him dry his eyes and be of cheer.

'The death that took poor mother brings me near, Nearer than we have ever been before, Near as the dead one came, but dearer, more.'

'Good-night, my son,' said mother. 'Night,' he said.

He dabbed her brow wi's lips and blew the light, She lay quite silent crying on the bed, Stirring no limb, but crying through the night.

He slept, convinced that he was Anna's knight.

And when he went to work he left behind Money for mother crying herself blind.

After that night he came to Anna's call, He was a fly in Anna's subtle weavings, Mother had no more share in him at all; All that the mother had was Anna's leavings.

There were more lies, more lockets, more deceivings, Taunts from the proud old woman, lies from him, And Anna's coo of 'Cruel. Leave her, Jim.'

Also the foreman spoke: 'You make me sick, You come-day-go-day-G.o.d-send-plenty-beer.

You put less mizzle on your bit of d.i.c.k, Or get your time, I'll have no slackers here, I've had my eye on you too long, my dear.'

And Jimmy pondered while the man attacked, 'I'd see her all day long if I were sacked.'

And trembling mother thought, 'I'll go to see'r.