SARAH
(crossing rapidly to left, her hands clenched, amazement and wrath in
her voice).
Sin and ig----Zounds! A plague take you!

RESOLUTE
(turning: her fingers in her ears).
Oh! Oh! Now you are swearing!

SARAH.
You little weazened, mincing, purse-mouthed Puritan!

RESOLUTE
(her fingers still in her ears).
I do not hear a word that you are saying.

SARAH
(starting to pull Resolute's fingers from her ears).
I'll _make_ you hear, I warrant!

GOODY GLEASON
(moaning).
Alack! Alack! Will the posset never be done?

SARAH
(instantly remorseful).
Gran'am! Your posset! To think I could forget you! (Runs to fire.) And
yet--and yet----(Looks in kettle.) Alas! Alas! I am not skilled in
brewing.