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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
looking on her with my two eyes； and she getting up； and eating
her food； and combing her hair； and lying down for her sleep。
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。
MOLLY BYRNE ＇shrinking away from him。＇ Keep off from me；
Martin Doul。
MARTIN DOUL ＇quickly； with low； furious intensity。＇ It's
the truth I'm telling you。 （He puts his hand on her shoulder and
shakes her。） 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。
MOLLY BYRNE ＇who has listened half mesmerized； starting away。＇
It's the like of that talk you'd hear from a man would be
losing his mind。
MARTIN DOUL ＇going after her； passing to her right。＇ It'd
be little wonder if a man near the like of you would be losing
his mind。 Put down your can now； and come along with myself； for
I'm seeing you this day； seeing you； maybe； the way no man has
seen you in the world。 （He takes her by the arm and tries to
pull her away softly to the right。） Let you come on now； I'm
saying； to the lands of Iveragh and the Reeks of Cork； where you
won't set down the width of your two feet and not be crushing
fine flowers； and making sweet smells in the air。
MOLLY BYRNE ＇laying down the can； trying to free herself。＇
Leave me go； Martin Doul！ Leave me go； I'm saying！
MARTIN DOUL。 Let you not be fooling。 Come along now the little
path through the trees。
MOLLY BYRNE ＇crying out towards forge。＇ Timmy the smith。
（Timmy comes out of forge； and Martin Doul lets her go。 Molly
Byrne； excited and breathless； pointing to Martin Doul。） Did
ever you hear that them that loses their sight loses their senses
along with it； Timmy the smith！
TIMMY ＇suspicious； but uncertain。＇ He's no sense； surely；
and he'll be having himself driven off this day from where he's
good sleeping； and feeding； and wages for his work。
MOLLY BYRNE ＇as before。＇ He's a bigger fool than that；
Timmy。 Look on him now； and tell me if that isn't a grand fellow
to think he's only to open his mouth to have a fine woman； the
like of me； running along by his heels。
＇Martin Doul recoils towards centre； with his hand to his eyes；
Mary Doul is seen on left coming forward softly。＇
TIMMY ＇with blank amazement。＇ Oh； the blind is wicked
people； and it's no lie。 But he'll walk off this day and not be
troubling us more。
＇Turns back left and picks up Martin Doul's coat and stick； some
things fall out of coat pocket； which he gathers up again。＇
MARTIN DOUL ＇turns around； sees Mary Doul； whispers to Molly
Byrne with imploring agony。＇ Let you not put shame on me；
Molly； before herself and the smith。 Let you not put shame on me
and I after saying fine words to you； and dreaming 。 。 。 dreams 。
。 。 。 in the night。 （He hesitates； and looks round the sky。） Is
it a storm of thunder is coming； or the last end of the world？
（He staggers towards Mary Doul； tripping slightly over tin can。）
The heavens is closing； I'm thinking； with darkness and great
trouble passing in the sky。 （He reaches Mary Doul； and seizes
her left arm with both his hands with a frantic cry。） Is it
darkness of thunder is coming； Mary Doul！ Do you see me clearly
with your eyes？
MARY DOUL ＇snatches her arm away； and hits him with empty sack
across the face。＇ I see you a sight too clearly； and let you
keep off from me now。
MOLLY BYRNE ＇clapping her hands。＇ That's right； Mary。
That's the way to treat the like of him is after standing there
at my feet and asking me to go off with him； till I'd grow an old
wretched road…woman the like of yourself。
MARY DOUL ＇defiantly。＇ When the skin shrinks on your chin；
Molly Byrne； there won't be the like of you for a shrunk hag in
the four quarters of Ireland。 。 。 。 It's a fine pair you'd be；
surely！
＇Martin Doul is standing at back right centre； with his back to
the audience。＇
TIMMY ＇coming over to Mary Doul。＇ Is it no shame you have
to let on she'd e