J. M. Synge

“ MARTIN DOUL.
Isn’t it yourself is after playing lies on me, ten years, in the day and in the night; but what is that to you now the Lord God has given eyes to me, the way I see you an old wizendy hag, was never fit to rear a child to me itself.
MARY DOUL.
I wouldn’t rear a crumpled whelp the like of you. It’s many a woman is married with finer than yourself should be praising God if she’s no child, and isn’t loading the earth with things would make the heavens lonesome above, and they scaring the larks, and the crows, and the angels passing in the sky. ”

“ MARY DOUL.
It’s them that’s fat and flabby do be wrinkled young, and that whitish yellowy hair she has does be soon turning the like of a handful of thin grass you’d see rotting, where the wet lies, at the north of a sty. (Turning to go out on right.) Ah, it’s a better thing to have a simple, seemly face, the like of my face, for two-score years, or fifty itself, than to be setting fools mad a short while, and then to be turning a thing would drive off the little children from your feet.
[She goes out; Martin Doul has come forward again, mastering himself, but uncertain.] ”

“ MARTIN DOUL.
Go on now to be seeking a lonesome place where the earth can hide you away; go on now, I’m saying, or you’ll be having men and women with their knees bled, and they screaming to God for a holy water would darken their sight, for there’s no man but would liefer be blind a hundred years, or a thousand itself, than to be looking on your like. ”

“ MARTIN DOUL.
Isn’t laughing a nice thing the time a woman’s young?
MARY DOUL.
bitterly. — A nice thing is it? A nice thing to hear a woman making a loud braying laugh the like of that? Ah, she’s a great one for drawing the men, and you’ll hear Timmy himself, the time he does be sitting in his forge, getting mighty fussy if she’ll come walking from Grianan, the way you’ll hear his breath going, and he wringing his hands. ”

“ And did you never hear tell of the summer, and the fine spring, and the places where the holy men of Ireland have built up churches to the Lord? No man isn’t a madman, I’m thinking, would be talking the like of that, and wishing to be closed up and seeing no sight of the grand glittering seas, and the furze that is opening above, and will soon have the hills shining as if it was fine creels of gold they were, rising to the sky. ”

“ Where is it you have her hidden away? Isn’t it a black shame for a drove of pitiful beasts the like of you to be making game of me, and putting a fool’s head on me the grand day of my life? Ah, you’re thinking you’re a fine lot, with your giggling, weeping eyes, a fine lot to be making game of myself and the woman I’ve heard called the great wonder of the west.
[During this speech, which he gives with his back towards the church, Mary Doul has come out with her sight cured, and come down towards the right with a silly simpering smile, till she is a little behind Martin Doul.] ”

“ MOLLY BYRNE.
interested, off her guard. — Wouldn’t any married man you’d have be doing the like of that?
MARTIN DOUL.
seizing the moment that he has her attention. — I’m thinking by the mercy of God it’s few sees anything but them is blind for a space (with excitement.) It’s a few sees the old woman rotting for the grave, and it’s few sees the like of yourself. (He bends over her.) Though it’s shining you are, like a high lamp would drag in the ships out of the sea. ”

“ If you weren’t a big fool you wouldn’t heed them this hour, Martin Doul, for they’re a bad lot those that have their sight, and they do have great joy, the time they do be seeing a grand thing, to let on they don’t see it at all, and to be telling fool’s lies, the like of what Molly Byrne was telling to yourself. ”

“ MARY DOUL.
puzzled at joy of his voice. — If you’d anything but lies to say you’d be talking to yourself.
MARTIN DOUL.
bursting with excitement. — I’ve this to say, Mary Doul. I’ll be letting my beard grow in a short while, a beautiful, long, white, silken, streamy beard, you wouldn’t see the like of in the eastern world.... Ah, a white beard’s a grand thing on an old man, a grand thing for making the quality stop and be stretching out their hands with good silver or gold, and a beard’s a thing you’ll never have, so you may be holding your tongue. ”

“ It’s a bad life for the voice, Martin Doul, though I’ve heard tell there isn’t anything like the wet south wind does be blowing upon us for keeping a white beautiful skin — the like of my skin — on your neck and on your brows, and there isn’t anything at all like a fine skin for putting splendour on a woman. ”

“ MARTIN DOUL.
I’m smelling the furze a while back sprouting on the hill, and if you’d hold your tongue you’d hear the lambs of Grianan, though it’s near drowned their crying is with the full river making noises in the glen.
MARY DOUL.
listens. — The lambs is bleating, surely, and there’s cocks and laying hens making a fine stir a mile off on the face of the hill. (She starts.) ”

“ It’s lonesome I’ll be from this day, and if living people is a bad lot, yet Mary Doul, herself, and she a dirty, wrinkled-looking hag, was better maybe to be sitting along with than no one at all. I’ll be getting my death now, I’m thinking, sitting alone in the cold air, hearing the night coming, and the blackbirds flying round in the briars crying to themselves, the time you’ll hear one cart getting off a long way in the east, and another cart getting off a long way in the west, and a dog barking maybe, and a little wind turning the sticks. ”

“ And you’d do right not to marry a man is after looking out a long while on the bad days of the world; for what way would the like of him have fit eyes to look on yourself, when you rise up in the morning and come out of the little door you have above in the lane, the time it’d be a fine thing if a man would be seeing, and losing his sight, the way he’d have your two eyes facing him, and he going the roads, and shining above him, and he looking in the sky, and springing up from the earth, the time he’d lower his head, in place of the muck that seeing men do meet all roads spread on the world. ”

“ It’s many a time those that are cured with the well of the four beauties of God lose their sight when a time is gone, but those I cure a second time go on seeing till the hour of death. (He takes the cover from his can.) I’ve a few drops only left of the water, but, with the help of God, It’ll be enough for the two of you, and let you kneel down now upon the road. Martin Doul wheels round with Mary Doul and tries to get away. ”

“ I’m not the like of the girls do be running round on the roads, swinging their legs, and they with their necks out looking on the men.... Ah, there’s a power of villainy walking the world, Martin Doul, among them that do be gadding around with their gaping eyes, and their sweet words, and they with no sense in them at all. ”

“ TIMMY.
It’d be no good to be sending a sinful man the like of ourselves, for I’m told the holiness of the water does be getting soiled with the villainy of your heart, the time you’d be carrying it, and you looking round on the girls, maybe, or drinking a small sup at a still.
MARTIN DOUL.
with disappointment. — It’d be a long terrible way to be walking ourselves, and I’m thinking that’s a wonder will bring small joy to us at all. ”

“ MARTIN DOUL.
with excitement. — Is that the truth, Timmy? I’m thinking you’re telling a lie.
TIMMY.
gruffly. — That’s the truth, Martin Doul, and you may believe it now, for you’re after believing a power of things weren’t as likely at all.
MARY DOUL.
Maybe we could send us a young lad to bring us the water. I could wash a naggin bottle in the morning, and I’m thinking Patch Ruadh would go for it, if we gave him a good drink, and the bit of money we have hid in the thatch. ”

“ For if it’s on the like of that you do be thinking, you’ll not be minding the faces of men, but you’ll be saying prayers and great praises, till you’ll be living the way the great saints do be living, with little but old sacks, and skin covering their bones. (To Timmy.) Leave him go now, you’re seeing he’s quiet again. (He frees Martin Doul.) And let you (he turns to Mary Doul) not be raising your voice, a bad thing in a woman ”

“ It’d be a fine thing if some one in this place could pray the like of him, for I’m thinking the water from our own blessed well would do rightly if a man knew the way to be saying prayers, and then there’d be no call to be bringing water from that wild place, where, I’m told, there are no decent houses, or fine-looking people at all. ”

“ MARTIN DOUL.
interested. — Are they putting up a still behind in the rocks? It’d be a grand thing if I’d sup handy the way I wouldn’t be destroying myself groping up across the bogs in the rain falling.
TIMMY.
still moodily. — It’s not a still they’re bringing, or the like of it either.
MARY DOUL.
persuasively, to Timmy. — Maybe they’re hanging a thief, above at the bit of a tree. I’m told it’s a great sight to see a man hanging by his neck; but what joy would that be to ourselves, and we not seeing it at all? ”

“ And now the Lord send blessing to you all, for I am going on to Annagolan, where there is a deaf woman, and to Laragh, where there are two men without sense, and to Glenassil, where there are children blind from their birth ”

“ MARTIN DOUL.
moving uneasily. — When they look on herself, who is a fine woman.
TIMMY.
shaking him. — Whisht now, and be listening to the Saint.
SAINT.
looks at them a moment, continues. — If it’s raggy and dirty you are itself, I’m saying, the Almighty God isn’t at all like the rich men of Ireland; and, with the power of the water I’m after bringing in a little curagh into Cashla Bay, He’ll have pity on you, and put sight into your eyes. ”

“ MARTIN DOUL.
I’ve heard tell her yellow hair, and her white skin, and her big eyes are a wonder, surely.
BRIDE.
who has looked out left. — Here’s the saint coming from the selvage of the wood.... Strip the cloak from him, Molly, or he’ll be seeing it now.
MOLLY BYRNE.
hastily to Bride. — Take the bell and put yourself by the stones. (To Martin Doul.) Will you hold your head up till I loosen the cloak? (She pulls off the cloak and throws it over her arm. Then she pushes Martin Doul over and stands him beside Mary Doul.) Stand there now, quiet, and let you not be saying a word. ”

“ MOLLY BYRNE.
sitting down in Mary Doul’s seat and tidying her hair. — If it’s vexed he is itself, he’ll have other things now to think on as well as his wife; and what does any man care for a wife, when it’s two weeks or three, he is looking on her face?
MAT SIMON.
That’s the truth now, Molly, and it’s more joy dark Martin got from the lies we told of that hag is kneeling by the path than your own man will get from you, day or night, and he living at your side. ”

“ Or a bad black day when I was roused up and found I was the like of the little children do be listening to the stories of an old woman, and do be dreaming after in the dark night that it’s in grand houses of gold they are, with speckled horses to ride, and do be waking again, in a short while, and they destroyed with the cold, and the thatch dripping, maybe, and the starved ass braying in the yard?
MOLLY BYRNE.
working indifferently. — You’ve great romancing this day, Martin Doul. ”