The Well of the Saints

be smelling the sweet, beautiful smell does be rising in the warm nights, when you do hear the swift flying things racing in the air, till we’d be looking up in our own minds into a grand sky, and seeing lakes, and big rivers, and fine hills for taking the plough. Saint To People. There’s little use talking with the like of him. Molly Byrne It’s lazy he is, holy father, and not wanting to work; for a while before you had him cured he was always talking, and wishing, and longing for his sight. Martin Doul Turning on her. I was longing, surely, for sight; but I seen my fill in a short while with the look of my wife, and the look of yourself, Molly Byrne, when you’d the queer wicked grin in your eyes you do have the time you’re making game with a man. Molly Byrne Let you not mind him, holy father; for it’s bad things he was saying to me a while back⁠—bad things for a married man, your reverence⁠—and you’d do right surely to leave him in darkness, if it’s that is best fitting the villainy of his heart. Timmy To Saint. Would you cure Mary Doul, your reverence, who is a quiet poor woman, never did hurt to any, or said a hard word, saving only when she’d be vexed with himself, or with young girls would be making game of her below? Saint To Mary Doul. If you have any sense, Mary, kneel down at my feet, and I’ll bring the sight again into your eyes. Martin Doul More defiantly. You will not, holy father. Would you have her looking on me, and saying hard words to me, till the hour of death? Saint Severely. If she’s wanting her sight I wouldn’t have the like of you stop her at all. To Mary Doul. Kneel down, I’m saying. Mary Doul Doubtfully. Let us be as we are, holy father, and then we’ll be known again in a short while as the people is happy and blind, and be having an easy time, with no trouble to live, and we getting halfpence on the road. Molly Byrne Let you not be a raving fool, Mary Doul. Kneel down now, and let him give you your sight, and himself can be sitting here if he likes it best, and taking halfpence on the road. Timmy That’s the truth, Mary; and if it’s choosing a wilful blindness you are, I’m thinking there isn’t anyone in this place will ever be giving you a hand’s turn or a hap’orth of meal, or be doing the little things you need to keep you at all living in the world. Mat Simon If you had your sight, Mary, you could be walking up for him and down with him, and be stitching his clothes, and keeping a watch on him day and night the way no other woman would come near him at all. Mary Doul Half persuaded. That’s the truth, maybe. Saint Kneel down now, I’m saying, for it’s in haste I am to be going on with the marriage and be walking my own way before the fall of night. The People Kneel down, Mary! Kneel down when you’re bid by the Saint! Mary Doul Looking uneasily towards Martin Doul. Maybe it’s right they are, and I will if you wish it, holy father. She kneels down. The Saint takes off his hat and gives it to someone near him. All the men take off their hats. He goes forward a step to take Martin Doul’s hand away from Mary Doul. Saint To Martin Doul. Go aside now; we’re not wanting you here. Martin Doul Pushes him away roughly, and stands with his left hand on Mary Doul’s shoulder. Keep off yourself, holy father, and let you not be taking my rest from me in the darkness of my wife.⁠ ⁠… What call has the like of you to be coming between married people⁠—that you’re not understanding at all⁠—and be making a great mess with the holy water you have, and the length of your prayers? Go on now, I’m saying, and leave us here on the road. Saint If it was a seeing man I heard talking to me the like of that I’d put a black curse on him would weigh down his soul till it’d be falling to hell; but you’re a poor blind sinner, God forgive you, and I don’t mind you at all. He raises his can. Go aside now till I give the blessing to your wife, and if you won’t go with your own will, there are those standing by will make you, surely. Martin Doul Pulling Mary Doul. Come along now, and don’t mind him at all. Saint Imperiously, to the People. Let you take that man and drive him down upon the road. Some men seize Martin Doul. Martin Doul Struggling and shouting. Make them leave me go, holy father! Make them leave me go, I’m saying, and you may cure her this day, or do anything that you will. Saint To People. Let him be.⁠ ⁠… Let him be if his sense is come to him at all. Martin Doul Shakes himself loose, feels for Mary Doul, sinking his voice to a plausible whine. You may cure herself, surely, holy father; I wouldn’t stop you at all⁠—and it’s great joy she’ll have looking on your face⁠—but let you cure myself along with her, the way I’ll see when it’s lies she’s telling, and be looking out day and night upon the holy men of God. He kneels down a little before Mary Doul. Saint Speaking half to the People. Men who are dark a long while and thinking over queer thoughts in their heads, aren’t the like of simple men, who do be working every day, and praying, and living like ourselves; so if he has