th you're saying?

_Timothy_: Hear, is it! I can hear every whisper
in this parish and the seven parishes are nearest.
And the little midges roaring in the air.--Let ye
whist now with your sneezing in the draught!

_Conan_: This is surely the work of the bellows.
Another blast gone!

_Rock_: So it would be too. Mostly the whole
of them gone and spent. It's hard know in the
morning what way will it be with you at night.
_(Sings.)_

"I saw from the beach when the morning was
shining
A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on--
came when the sun o'er the beach was declining,
The bark was still there, but the waters were gone."

_Timothy_: It is yourself brought the misfortune
on me, calling your Druid spells into the house.

_Conan_: It is not upon you I ever turned it.

_Timothy_: You have a great wrong done to me!

_Mother_: It is glad you should be and happy.

_Timothy_; Happy, is it? Give me a hareskin cap
for to put over my ears, having wool in it very thick!
_(Sings.)_

"Silent, O Moyle, be the roar of thy water,
Break not ye breezes your chain of repose,
While murmuring mournfully Lir's lonely daughter
Tells to the night-star her tale of woes.

"When shall the swan, her death-note singing,
Sleep with wings in darkness furl'd?
When will heaven its sweet bells ringing
Call my spirit from this stormy world?"

_Mother_: Come with me now and I'll be chatting
to you.

_Timothy_: Why would I be listening to your
blather when I have the voices of the four winds to
be listening to? The night wind, the east wind,
the black wind and the wind from the south!

_Conan_: Such a thing I never saw before in all
my natural life.

_Timothy_: To be hearing, without understanding
it, the language of the tribes of the birds! (_Puts
hands over ears again_.) There's too many sounds
in the world! The sounds of the earth are terrible!
The roots squeezing and jostling one another
through the clefts, and the crashing of the acorn
from the oak. The cry of the little birdeen in
under the silence of the hawk!

_Conan:_ (_To Mother_.) As it you let it loose
upon him, let you bring him away to some hole or
cave of the earth.

_Timothy_: It is my desire to go cast myself in
the ocean where there'll be but one sound of its
waves, the fishes in its meadows being dumb!
(_Goes to corner and hides his head in a sack_.)

_Mother_: Even so there might likely be a mermaid
playing reels