Sarah (scornfully). If you are, its a clumsy man you are this night, Michael Byrne (raising her voice); and let you make haste now, or herself will be coming with the porter.
Michael (defiantly, raising his voice). Let me make haste? Ill be making haste maybe to hit you a great clout; for Im thinking its the like of that you want. Im thinking on the day I got you above at Rathvanna, and the way you began crying out and we coming down off the hill, crying out and saying Ill go back to my ma; and Im thinking on the way I came behind you that time, and hit you a great clout in the lug, and how quiet and easy it was you came along with me from that hour to this present day.
Sarah (standing up and throwing all her sticks into the fire). And a big fool I was, too, maybe; but well be seeing Jaunting Jim to-morrow in Ballinaclash, and he after getting a great price for his white foal in the horse-fair of Wicklow, the way itll be a great sight to see him squandering his share of gold, and he with a grand eye for a fine horse, and a grand eye for a woman.
Michael (working again with impatience). The divil do him good with the two of them.
Sarah (kicking up the ashes with her foot). Ah, hes a great lad, Im telling you, and its proud and happy Ill be to see him, and he the first one called me the Beauty of Ballinacree, a fine name for a woman.
Michael (with contempt). Its the like of that name they do be putting on the horses they have below racing in Arklow. Its easy pleased you are, Sarah Casey, easy pleased with a big word, or the liar speaks it.
Michael. Liar, surely.
Sarah (indignantly). Liar, is it? Didnt you ever hear tell of the peelers followed me ten miles along the Glen Malure, and they talking love to me in the dark night; or of the children youll meet coming from school and they saying one to the other: Its this day we seen Sarah Casey, the Beauty of Ballinacree, a great sight, surely.
Michael. God help the lot of them.
Sarah. Its yourself youll be calling God to help, in two weeks or three, when youll be waking up in the dark night and thinking you see me coming with the sun on me, and I driving a high cart with Jaunting Jim going behind. Its lonesome and cold youll be feeling the ditch where youll be lying down that night, Im telling you, and you hearing the old woman making a great noise in her sleep, and the bats squeaking in the trees.
Michael. Whisht. I hear some one coming the road.
Sarah (looking out right). Its some one coming forward from the doctors door.
Michael. Its often his reverence does be in there playing cards, or drinking a sup, or singing songs, until the dawn of day.
Sarah. Its a big boast of a man with a long step on him and a trumpeting voice Its his reverence, surely; and if you have the ring done, its a great bargain well make now and he after drinking his glass.
Michael (going to her and giving her the ring). Theres your ring, Sarah Casey; but Im thinking hell walk by and not stop to speak with the like of us at all.
Sarah (tidying herself, in great excitement). Let you be sitting here and keeping a great blaze, the way he can look on my face; and let you seem to be working, for its great love the like of him have to talk of work.
|Copyright: All texts on Bibliomania are © Bibliomania.com Ltd, and may not be reproduced in any form without our written permission. See our FAQ for more details.|