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Peer.
I've forgot what I never have known.
What's this that you prate of? When last did we meet?
The Woman.
When last we met was when first we met.
[To The Brat.]
Give your father a drink; he is thirsty, I'm sure.
Peer.
Father? You're drunk, woman! Do you call him?
The Woman.
I should think you might well know the pig by its skin!
Why, where are your eyes? Can't you see that he's lame
In his shank, just as you too are lame in your soul?
Peer.
Would you have me believe?
The Woman.
Would you wriggle away?
Peer.
This long-leggëd urchin!
The Woman.
He's shot up apace.
Peer.
Dare you, you troll-snout, father on me?
