No: but I'll score thy imp's brow wi 't,—that's what I'll do,—an tu lay a finger on me. But dinna glow'r sae: stan' aff a bit, an answer my quastions, and there's siller for thee. (Throwing him some pence.) Was tu on the moor i' the night-time, wi' thy mither?
WILKIN.
Mither?
BAWLDY.
Ay; was tu on the moor wi' her, whan the thunner roared?
WILKIN.
Thunner roared, fire roared, thunner roared! hurl! hurl! hurl! (Imitating the noise of thunder.)