is myself.

_First Hag:_ Is it to lose it unknownst you did?

_McDonough:_ What way did I lose it, is it? I lost it knowingly
and of my own will. Thrown on counters, thrown on the drink-house
floor, given for spirits, given for porter, thrown for drink for
friends and acquaintances, for strangers and strollers and vagabonds.
Scattered in the parish of Ardrahan and at Labane cross. Tramps and
schemers lying drunk and dead drunk at the butt of every wall.
_(Buries head in his hands.)_

_First Hag:_ That is what happened the gold yourself and the pipes
had won? You made no delay doing that much. You have a great wrong
done to the woman inside, where you left her burying bare.

_Second Hag:_ She to be without a farthing dip for her corpse, and
you after lavishing gold.

_First Hag:_ You have a right to bruise your knees making
repentance, you that lay on the one pillow with her. You to be
putting curses upon others and making attacks on them! I would make
no complaint, you to be naked at your own burying and at the very
hour of death, and the rain falling down on your head.

_McDonough:_ Little I mind what happens me. There is no word you
can put out of your mouth can do me any injury at all. Oh, Catherine,
it is best for me go hang myself out of a tree, and my carcass to be
torn by savage dogs that went famished through a great length of time,
and my bones left without a token or a flag or a headstone, and my
name that was up at one time to be forgotten out of mind!
_(He bursts out sobbing.)_

_First Hag:_ The shadows should be lengthening in the street. Look
out would you see the car to be coming.

_Second Hag:_ It was a while ago at the far corner of the fair.
They were but waiting for the throng to lessen.

_First Hag:_ They are making too much delay.

_Second Hag:_ I see a hint of the livery of the poorhouse coming
through the crowd.

_First Hag:_ The men of the Union are coming to bring her away,
McDonough. There is nothing more to be done. She will get her burial
from the rates.

_McDonough:_ Oh, Catherine, Catherine! Is it I myself have brought
you to that shame and that disgrace!

_Second Hag:_ You are making too much of it. Little it will signify,
and we to be making clay, who was it dug a hole through the nettles
or lifted down the sods over our head.

_First Hag:_ That is so. What signifies she to be followed or to
be going her lone, and her eyes being shut to the world?

_McDonough:_