t twenty, is writing at table. She is
dressed in the usual peasant dress.]

PEGEEN -- [slowly as she writes.] -- Six yards of stuff for to make a
yellow gown. A pair of lace boots with lengthy heels on them and brassy
eyes. A hat is suited for a wedding-day. A fine tooth comb. To be
sent with three barrels of porter in Jimmy Farrell's creel cart on the
evening of the coming Fair to Mister Michael James Flaherty. With the
best compliments of this season. Margaret Flaherty.

SHAWN KEOGH -- [a fat and fair young man comes in as she signs, looks
round awkwardly, when he sees she is alone.] -- Where's himself?

PEGEEN -- [without looking at him.] -- He's coming. (She directs the
letter.) To Mister Sheamus Mulroy, Wine and Spirit Dealer, Castlebar.

SHAWN -- [uneasily.] -- I didn't see him on the road.

PEGEEN. How would you see him (licks stamp and puts it on letter) and it
dark night this half hour gone by?

SHAWN -- [turning towards the door again.] -- I stood a while outside
wondering would I have a right to pass on or to walk in and see you,
Pegeen Mike (comes to fire), and I could hear the cows breathing, and
sighing in the stillness of the air, and not a step moving any place
from this gate to the bridge.

PEGEEN -- [putting letter in envelope.] -- It's above at the cross-roads
he is, meeting Philly Cullen; and a couple more are going along with him
to Kate Cassidy's wake.

SHAWN -- [looking at her blankly.] -- And he's going that length in the
dark night?

PEGEEN -- [impatiently.] He is surely, and leaving me lonesome on the
scruff of the hill. (She gets up and puts envelope on dresser, then
winds clock.) Isn't it long the nights are now, Shawn Keogh, to be
leaving a poor girl with her own self counting the hours to the dawn of
day?

SHAWN -- [with awkward humour.] -- If it is, when we're wedded in a
short while you'll have no call to complain, for I've little will to be
walking off to wakes or weddings in the darkness of the night.

PEGEEN -- [with rather scornful good humour.] -- You're making mighty
certain, Shaneen, that I'll wed you now.

SHAWN. Aren't we after making a good bargain, the way we're only waiting
these days on Father Reilly's dispensation from the bishops, or the
Court of Rome.

PEGEEN -- [looking at him teasingly, washing up at dresser.] -- It's a
wonder, Shaneen, the Holy Father'd be taking notice of the likes of you;
for if I was him I wouldn't bother with this place where you'll