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Molly'll be saying great praises now to the Almighty God and He
giving her a fine； stout； hardy man the like of you。
TIMMY ＇uneasily。＇ And why wouldn't she； if she's a fine
woman itself？
MARTIN DOUL ＇looking up right。＇ Why wouldn't she； indeed；
Timmy？ 。 。 。 。 The Almighty God's made a fine match in the two of
you； for if you went marrying a woman was the like of yourself
you'd be having the fearfullest little children； I'm thinking；
was ever seen in the world。
TIMMY ＇seriously offended。＇ God forgive you！ if you're an
ugly man to be looking at； I'm thinking your tongue's worse than
your view。
MARTIN DOUL ＇hurt also。＇ Isn't it destroyed with the cold I
am； and if I'm ugly itself I never seen anyone the like of you
for dreepiness this day； Timmy the smith； and I'm thinking now
herself's coming above you'd have a right to step up into your
old shanty； and give a rub to your face； and not be sitting there
with your bleary eyes； and your big nose； the like of an old
scarecrow stuck down upon the road。
TIMMY ＇looking up the road uneasily。＇ She's no call to mind
what way I look； and I after building a house with four rooms in
it above on the hill。 （He stands up。） But it's a queer thing
the way yourself and Mary Doul are after setting every person in
this place； and up beyond to Rathvanna； talking of nothing； and
thinking of nothing； but the way they do be looking in the face。
（Going towards forge。） It's the devil's work you're after doing
with your talk of fine looks； and I'd do right； maybe； to step in
and wash the blackness from my eyes。
＇He goes into forge。 Martin Doul rubs his face furtively with
the tail of his coat。 Molly Byrne comes on right with a
water…can； and begins to fill it at the well。＇
MARTIN DOUL。 God save you； Molly Byrne。
MOLLY BYRNE ＇indifferently。＇ God save you。
MARTIN DOUL。 That's a dark； gloomy day； and the Lord have mercy
on us all。
MOLLY BYRNE。 Middling dark。
MARTIN DOUL。 It's a power of dirty days； and dark mornings； and
shabby…looking fellows （he makes a gesture over his shoulder） we
do have to be looking on when we have our sight； God help us； but
there's one fine thing we have； to be looking on a grand； white；
handsome girl； the like of you 。 。 。 。 and every time I set my
eyes on you I do be blessing the saints； and the holy water； and
the power of the Lord Almighty in the heavens above。
MOLLY BYRNE。 I've heard the priests say it isn't looking on a
young girl would teach many to be saying their prayers。 ＇Bailing
water into her can with a cup。＇
MARTIN DOUL。 It isn't many have been the way I was； hearing your
voice speaking； and not seeing you at all。
MOLLY BYRNE。 That should have been a queer time for an old；
wicked； coaxing fool to be sitting there with your eyes shut； and
not seeing a sight of girl or woman passing the road。
MARTIN DOUL。 If it was a queer time itself it was great joy and
pride I had the time I'd hear your voice speaking and you passing
to Grianan （beginning to speak with plaintive intensity）； for
it's of many a fine thing your voice would put a poor dark fellow
in mind； and the day I'd hear it it's of little else at all I
would be thinking。
MOLLY BYRNE。 I'll tell your wife if you talk to me the like of
that。 。 。 。 You've heard； maybe； she's below picking nettles for
the widow O'Flinn； who took great pity on her when she seen the
two of you fighting； and yourself putting shame on her at the
crossing of the roads。
MARTIN DOUL ＇impatiently。＇ Is there no living person can
speak a score of words to me； or say 〃God speed you；〃 itself；
without putting me in mind of the old woman； or that day either
at Grianan？
MOLLY BYRNE ＇maliciously。＇ I was thinking it should be a
fine thing to put you in mind of the day you called the grand day
of your life。
MARTIN DOUL。 Grand day； is it？ （Plaintively again； throwing
aside his work； and leaning towards her。） 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。 Was it up at the still you were at the
fall of night？
MARTIN DOUL ＇stands up； comes towards her； but stands at far
（right） side of well。＇ It was not； Molly Byrne； but lying down
in a little rickety shed。 。 。 。 Lying down across a sop of
straw； and I thinking I was seeing you walk； and hearing the
sound of your step on a dry road； and hearing you again； and you
laughing and making great talk in a high room with dry timber
lining the roof。 For it's a fine sound your voice has that time；
and it's better I am； I'm thinking； lying down； the way a blind
man does be lying； than to be sitting here in the gray light
taking hard words of Timmy the smith。
MOLLY BYRNE ＇looking at him with interest。＇ It's queer talk
you have if it's a little； old； shabby stump of a man you are
itself。
MARTIN DOUL。 I'm not so old as you do hear them say。
MOLLY BYRNE。 You're old； I'm thinking； to be talking that talk
with a girl。
MARTIN DOUL ＇despondingly。＇ It's not a lie you're telling；
maybe； for it's long years I'm after losing from the world；
feeling love and talking love； with the old woman； and I fooled
the whole while with the lies of Timmy the smith。
MOLLY BYRNE ＇half invitingly。＇ It's a fine way you're
wanting to pay Timmy the smith。 。 。 。 And it's not his LIES
you're making love to this day； Martin Doul。
MARTIN DOUL。 It is not； Molly； and the Lord forgive us all。 （He
passes behind her and comes near her left。） For I've heard tell
there are lands beyond in Cahir Iveraghig and the Reeks of Cork
with warm sun in them； and fine light in the sky。 （Bending
towards her。） And light's a grand thing for a man ever was
blind； or a woman； with a fine neck； and a skin on her the like
of you； the way we'd have a right to go off this day till we'd
have a fine life passing abroad through them towns of the south；
and we telling stories； maybe； or singing songs at the fairs。
MOLLY BYRNE ＇turning round half amused； and looking him over
from head to foot。＇ Well； isn't it a queer thing when your own
wife's after leaving you because you're a pitiful show； you'd
talk the like of that to me？
MARTIN DOUL ＇drawing back a little； hurt； but indignant。＇
It's a queer thing； maybe； for all things is queer in the world。
（In a low voice with peculiar emphasis。） But there's one thing
I'm telling you； if she walked off away from me； it wasn't
because of seeing me； and I no more than I am； but because I was