-- Let you come
here to me, Timmy, and not be minding him at all. [Timmy stops, and
she gropes up to him and takes him by the coat).] You're not huffy with
myself, and let you tell me the whole story and don't be fooling me
more.... Is it yourself has brought us the water?

TIMMY. It is not, surely.

MARY DOUL. Then tell us your wonder, Timmy.... What person'll bring it
at all?

TIMMY -- [relenting.] -- It's a fine holy man will bring it, a saint of
the Almighty God.

MARY DOUL -- [overawed.] -- A saint is it?

TIMMY. Ay, a fine saint, who's going round through the churches of
Ireland, with a long cloak on him, and naked feet, for he's brought
a sup of the water slung at his side, and, with the like of him, any
little drop is enough to cure the dying, or to make the blind see as
clear as the gray hawks do be high up, on a still day, sailing the sky.

MARTIN DOUL -- [feeling for his stick.] -- What place is he, Timmy? I'll
be walking to him now.

TIMMY. Let you stay quiet, Martin. He's straying around saying prayers
at the churches and high crosses, between this place and the hills, and
he with a great crowd go- ing behind -- for it's fine prayers he does
be saying, and fasting with it, till he's as thin as one of the empty
rushes you have there on your knee; then he'll be coming after to this
place to cure the two of you -- we're after telling him the way you are
-- and to say his prayers in the church.

MARTIN DOUL -- [turning suddenly to Mary Doul.] -- And we'll be seeing
ourselves this day. Oh, glory be to God, is it true surely?

MARY DOUL -- [very pleased, to Timmy.] -- Maybe I'd have time to walk
down and get the big shawl I have below, for I do look my best, I've
heard them say, when I'm dressed up with that thing on my head.

TIMMY. You'd have time surely.

MARTIN DOUL -- [listening.] Whisht now.... I hear people again coming by
the stream.

TIMMY -- [looking out left, puzzled.] -- It's the young girls I left
walking after the Saint.... They're coming now (goes up to entrance)
carrying things in their hands, and they walking as easy as you'd see a
child walk who'd have a dozen eggs hid in her bib.

MARTIN DOUL -- [listening.] -- That's Molly Byrne, I'm thinking.

[Molly Byrne and Bride come on left and cross to Martin Doul, carrying
water-can, Saint's bell, and cloak.]

MOLLY -- [volubly.] -- God bless you, Martin. I've holy water here, from
the grave of the four saints of the west, will have