that is a dog was in it before the foundations of the world.

_Peter Tannian:_ Who is it now that venom fell on, whatever
beast's jaws may have scattered it?

_Cracked Mary:_ It is the full moon knows that. The moon to
slacken it is safe, there is no harm in it. Almighty God will do
that much. He'll slacken it like you 'd slacken lime.

_Shawn Early:_ There is reason in what she is saying. Set open the
door and let the full moon call its own!

_Bartley Fallon:_ Don't let in the rays of it upon us or I'm a
gone man. It to shine on them that are going wrong in the head, it
would raise a great stir in the mind. Sure, it's in the asylum at
that time they do have whips to chastise them.

_(Goes to corner.)_

_Cracked Mary:_ That's it. The moon is terrible. The full moon
cracks them out and out, any one that would have any spleen or any
relics in them.

_Mrs. Broderick:_ Do not let in the light of it. I would scruple
to look at it myself.

_Cracked Mary:_ Let you throw open the door, Davideen. It is not
ourselves are in dread that the white man in the sky will be calling
names after us and ridiculing us. Ha! ha! I might be as foolish as
yourselves and as fearful, but for the Almighty that left a little
cleft in my skull, that would let in His candle through the night
time.

_Hyacinth Halvey:_ Hurry on now, tell us is there any one in this
place is wild and astray like yourself.

_(He opens the door. The light falls on him.)_

_Cracked Mary: (Putting her hand on him.)_ There was great
shouting in the big round house, and you coming into it last night.

_Hyacinth Halvey:_ What are you saying? I never went frolicking in
the night time since the day I came into Cloon.

_Cracked Mary:_ We were talking of it a while ago. I knew you by
the smile and by the laugh of you. A queen having a yellow dress,
and the hair on her smooth like marble. All the dead of the village
were in it, and of the living myself and yourself.

_Hyacinth Halvey:_ I thought it was of Carrow she was talking; it
is of the other world she is raving, and of the shadow-shapes of the
forth.

_Cracked Mary:_ You have the door open--the speckled horses are
on the road!--make a leap on the horse as it goes by, the horse that
is without a rider. Can't you hear them puffing and roaring? Their
breath is like a fog upon the air.

_Hyacinth Halvey:_ What you hear is but the train puffing afar off.

_Cracked Mary:_ Make a snap at the bridle as