at hag is kneeling by the path than your
own man will get from you, day or night, and he living at your side.

MOLLY BYRNE -- [defiantly.] -- Let you not be talking, Mat Simon, for
it's not yourself will be my man, though you'd be crowing and singing
fine songs if you'd that hope in you at all.

TIMMY -- [shocked, to Molly Byrne.] -- Let you not be raising your voice
when the Saint's above at his prayers.

BRIDE -- [crying out.] -- Whisht.... Whisht.... I'm thinking he's cured.

MARTIN DOUL -- [crying out in the church.] -- Oh, glory be to God....

SAINT -- [solemnly.] Laus Patri sit et Filio cum Spiritu Paraclito Qui
Suae dono gratiae misertus est Hiberniae....

MARTIN DOUL -- [ecstatically.] -- Oh, glory be to God, I see now
surely.... I see the walls of the church, and the green bits of ferns in
them, and yourself, holy father, and the great width of the sky.

[He runs out half-foolish with joy, and comes past Mary Doul as she
scrambles to her feet, drawing a little away from her as he goes by.]

TIMMY -- [to the others.] -- He doesn't know her at all.

[The Saint comes out behind Martin Doul, and leads Mary Doul into the
church. Martin Doul comes on to the People. The men are between him and
the Girls; he verifies his position with his stick.]

MARTIN DOUL -- [crying out joyfully.] -- That's Timmy, I know Timmy by
the black of his head.... That's Mat Simon, I know Mat by the length of
his legs.... That should be Patch Ruadh, with the gamey eyes in him, and
the fiery hair. (He sees Molly Byrne on Mary Doul's seat, and his voice
changes completely.) Oh, it was no lie they told me, Mary Doul. Oh,
glory to God and the seven saints I didn't die and not see you at all.
The blessing of God on the water, and the feet carried it round through
the land. The blessing of God on this day, and them that brought me
the Saint, for it's grand hair you have (she lowers her head a little
confused), and soft skin, and eyes would make the saints, if they were
dark awhile and seeing again, fall down out of the sky. (He goes nearer
to her.) Hold up your head, Mary, the way I'll see it's richer I am than
the great kings of the east. Hold up your head, I'm saying, for it's
soon you'll be seeing me, and I not a bad one at all. [He touches her
and she starts up.]

MOLLY BYRNE. Let you keep away from me, and not be soiling my chin.
[People laugh heartily.]

MARTIN DOUL -- [bewildered.] -- It's Molly's voice you have.

MOLLY BYRNE