Of course he's right. But I'm too old. I've seen too many broken heads.
He'll be no righter for a broken head.

(BRIDGET CROMWELL, a girl, comes. She takes some eggs from her apron and
puts them on a dish on a shelf.)

_Bridget:_
Why, grandmother, whose head is to be broken?

_Mrs. Cromwell:_
Your father's is like to be.

_Bridget:_
You mean to-morrow?

_Elizabeth:_
At the meeting, yes.

_Bridget:_
But he must do it. Why, the people have fished and kept cattle there
longer than any one can remember. Who is an Earl of Bedford to take it
away from them? I know I would let my head be broken first.

_Elizabeth:_
It is said that the King gave leave.

_Bridget:_
Then the King gave what wasn't his to give.

_Mrs. Cromwell:_