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You make a pretty noise, you devourer of your brother. Your pride shall be broken to-day. You will never be quiet till then.
If you, not having quieted me to-day, should eat rice, you will eat your son's head.
You neighbours! Do you hear this cannibal strumpet's talk? It would be right to put fire in the face of such a cannibal.
Hide your face, woman. Your day light did not come on well this morning, I tell you.
Did my day-light come on badly or yours? Do you see? I'll give you a kick, and bruise your face; then you'll know.
If you don't strike me, eat your own child's head? Strumpet!
You strumpet! You woman of bad cast! thus you adjure me by my son. I'll strike your face with a twig broom, and bruise it. Strumpet! Unmanageable wretch!
If you strike me with a twig broom, do you think nobody can strike you with a grass one?
Well, you devourer! Do you think nobody is acquainted with your goings on? You think to cover all, I suppose, by making a great noise.
What you have got in your head can never be, you such an one's wife. Every body has heard of your goings on.
Don't people know how chaste, and righteous, and obedient to your husband you are?
You get up finely. When the master comes home to-day, let him take you and keep house, and send me away.
Make as many complaints against me as you can. Don't spare in the least. You have made great adjurations, woman.
