Giving bag to Flannery.)_ Take it you,
as is your due by what the mother said a while ago
about the robbery he did on you in the time past.

_Flannery_: Give it here to me. I'll engage I'll
keep a good grip on it from this out. It's long
before any other one will get a one look at it!

_Conan_: There would seem to be a great change--and
a sudden change come upon the two of ye.
..._(With a roar.)_ Where now is the bellows?

_Flannery: (Sulkily.)_ What way would I know?

_Conan: (Shaking him.)_ I know well what
happened! It is _ye_ have stolen two of my blasts!
Putting changes on yourselves ye would--much
good may it do ye--. Thieving with your covetousness
the last two nearly I had left!

_Rock: (Sulkily.)_ Leave your hand off me! I
never stole no blast!

_Conan_: There's a bad class going through the
world. The most people you will give to will be
the first to cry you down. This was a wrong out
of measure! Thieves ye are and pickpockets!
Ye that were not worth changing from one to
another, no more than you'd change a pinch of
dust off the road into a puff of ashes. Stealing
away my lovely blasts, bad luck to ye, the same as
Prometheus stole the makings of a fire from the
ancient gods!

_Flannery_: That is enough of keening and
lamenting after a few blasts of barren wind--I'll
be going where I have my own business to attend.

_Conan_: Where, so, is the bellows?

_Flannery_: How would I know?

_Conan_: The two of ye won't quit this till I'll
find it! There is another two blasts in it that
will bring sense and knowledge into Ireland yet!

_Rock_: Indeed they might bring comfort yet
to many a sore heart!

_Conan: (Searching.)_ Where now is it? I
couldn't find it if the earth rose up and swallowed
it. Where now did I lay it down?

_Rock_: There's too much changes in this place
for me to know where anything is gone.

_Conan: (At door.)_ Where are you, Maryanne!
Celia! Timothy! Let ye come hither and search
out my little bellows!

_(Timothy comes in, followed by Mother.)_

_Conan_: Hearken now, Timothy!

_Timothy: (Stopping his ears.)_ Speak easy, speak easy!

_Conan_: Take down now your fingers from your
ears the way you will hear my voice!

_Timothy_: Have a care now with your screeching
would you split the drum of my ear?

_Conan_: Is it that you have got your hearing?

_Timothy_: My hearing is it? As good as that I
can hear a lie, and it forming in the mind.

_Conan_: Is that the tru