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THE HOUR-GLASS
163
Out of my sight! Out of my sight, I say.
[He drives them out.
I'll call my wife, for what can women do,
That carry us in the darkness of their bodies,
But mock the reason that lets nothing grow
Unless it grow in light. Bridget, Bridget.
A woman never ceases to believe,
Say what we will. Bridget, come quickly, Bridget.
[Bridget comes in wearing her apron. Her sleeves turned up from her arms, which are covered with flour.
Wife, what do you believe in? Tell me the truth,
And not—as is the habit with you all—
Something you think will please me.
Do you pray?
