The Well of the Saints

put a drop of the water out of it on the eyes of a blind man, you’ll make him see as well as any person is walking the world. Martin Doul With excitement. Is that the truth, Timmy? I’m thinking you’re telling a lie. Timmy Gruffly. That’s the truth, Martin Doul, and you may believe it now, for you’re after believing a power of things weren’t as likely at all. Mary Doul Maybe we could send us a young lad to bring us the water. I could wash a naggin bottle in the morning, and I’m thinking Patch Ruadh would go for it, if we gave him a good drink, and the bit of money we have hid in the thatch. Timmy It’d be no good to be sending a sinful man the like of ourselves, for I’m told the holiness of the water does be getting soiled with the villainy of your heart, the time you’d be carrying it, and you looking round on the girls, maybe, or drinking a small sup at a still. Martin Doul With disappointment. It’d be a long terrible way to be walking ourselves, and I’m thinking that’s a wonder will bring small joy to us at all. Timmy Turning on him impatiently. What is it you want with your walking? It’s as deaf as blind you’re growing if you’re not after hearing me say it’s in this place the wonder would be done. Martin Doul With a flash of anger. If it is can’t you open the big slobbering mouth you have and say what way it’ll be done, and not be making blather till the fall of night. Timmy Jumping up. I’ll be going on now Mary Doul rises, and not wasting time talking civil talk with the like of you. Mary Doul Standing up, disguising her impatience. 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 going 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 Byrne Volubly. God bless you, Martin. I’ve holy water here, from the grave of the four saints of the west, will have you cured in a short while and seeing like ourselves. Timmy Crosses to Molly, interrupting her. He’s heard that. God help you. But where at all is the Saint, and what way is he after trusting the holy water with the likes of you? Molly Byrne He was afeard to go a far way with the clouds is coming beyond, so he’s gone up now through the thick woods to say a prayer at the crosses of Grianan, and he’s coming on this road to the church. Timmy Still astonished. And he’s after leaving the holy water with the two of you? It’s a wonder, surely. Comes down left a little. Molly Byrne The lads told him no person could carry them things through the briars, and steep, slippy-feeling rocks he’ll be climbing above, so he looked round then, and gave the water, and his big cloak, and his bell to the two of us, for young girls, says he, are the cleanest holy people you’d see walking the world. Mary Doul goes near seat. Mary Doul Sits down, laughing to herself. Well, the Saint’s a simple fellow, and it’s no lie. Martin Doul Leaning forward, holding out his hands. Let you give me the water in my hand, Molly Byrne, the way I’ll know you have it surely. Molly Byrne Giving it to him. Wonders is queer things, and maybe it’d cure you, and you holding it alone. Martin