you wrote
the wars of Homer or put down Turgesius of the Danes! You are a lad
that can't be beat. It is you are the Lamb of Luck!

_Staffy:_ What call has he or any of us to be stopping under
Damer's roof and he owning but the four walls presently and a poor
little valley of land?

_Ralph:_ There is nothing worth while in his keeping, and all he
had gathered after being robbed.

_Damer:_ Is that what you are saying? Well, I am not so easy
robbed as you think! _(Takes bag from the sack and shakes it.)_ Is
that what you call being robbed?

_Simon:_ That is my treasure and my bag!

_Staffy:_ I thought it was after being brought away from the two
of you.

_Damer:_ You are out of it! It is Jubair did that much for me.
Jubair, my darling, it is tonight I'll bring him back to the house!
It is not in the box he will be any more but alongside the warmth of
the hearth. The time I went unloosing his chain, didn't he scrape
with his paw till he showed me all I had lost hid in under the straw,
and it in a spotted bag! _(Opens and pours out money.)_

_Simon:_ It is as well for you have it back where it stopped so
short with myself.

_Damer:_ Is it that I would keep it from you where it was won fair?
It is a rogue of a man would do that. Where would be the use, and I
knowing you could win it back from me at your will, and the five
trumps coming into your hand? It is to share it we will and share
alike, so long as it will not give out!

_Delia:_ A little handsel to myself would do the both of you no
harm at all.

_Damer:_ Delia, my darling, I'll go as far as that on this day of
wonders. I'll handsel you and welcome. I'll bestow on you the empty
jar. _(Gives it to her.)_

_Delia:_ I'll take it. I'll let on it to be weighty and I facing
back into Loughtyshassy.

_Ralph:_ The neighbours seeing it and taking you to be his heir
you might come to your goats yet.

_Delia:_ Ah, what's goats and what is guinea-hens? Did ever you
see yoked horses in a coach, their skin shining out like shells,
rising their steps in tune the same as a patrol of police? There are
peacocks on the lawns of Lough Cutra they were telling me, having
each of them a hundred eyes. _(Goes to door.)_

_Simon: (Putting his hand on the jar.)_ I don't know. _(To Damer_)
It might be a nice thing for the two of us to start gathering the
full of it again.

_Damer:_ Not a fear of me. Where heaping and hoarding that much
has my years withered and blighted up