or that will come
after her!

But she will come with me, my pearl of a woman,
To the province of Connacht of the fine people;
She will receive feasts, wine, and meat,
High dances, sport, and music!

Oh, wisha, wisha! that the sun may never rise upon this village; and
that the stars may never shine on it and that----. (_He is by this time
outside the door. All the men make a rush at the door and shut it._
OONA _runs towards the door, but the women seize her._ SHEAMUS _goes
over to her._)

OONA. Oh! oh! oh! do not put him out; let him back; that is
Tumaus Hanrahan--he is a poet--he is a bard--he is a wonderful man. O,
let him back; do not do that to him!

SHEAMUS. O Oona _ban, acushla dilis_, let him be; he is gone
now, and his share of spells with him! He will be gone out of your head
to-morrow; and you will be gone out of his head. Don't you know that I
like you better than a hundred thousand Deirdres, and that you are my
one pearl of a woman in the world?

HANRAHAN (_outside, beating on the door_). Open, open, open;
let me in! Oh, my seven hundred thousand curses on you--the curse of the
weak and of the strong--the curse of the poets and of the bards upon
you! The curse of the priests on you and the friars! The curse of the
bishops upon you, and the Pope! The curse of the widows on you, and the
children! Open! (_He beats on the door again and again._)

SHEAMUS. I am thankful to ye, neighbours; and Oona will be
thankful to ye to-morrow. Beat away, you vagabond! Do your dancing out
there with yourself now! Isn't it a fine thing for a man to be listening
to the storm outside, and himself quiet and easy beside the fire? Beat
away, beat away! Where's Connacht now?

THE MARRIAGE

MARTIN, _a young man._

MARY. _His newly married wife._

A BLIND FIDDLER.

NEIGHBOURS.

SCENE.--_A cottage kitchen. A table poorly set out, with two
cups, a jug of milk, and a cake of bread._ MARTIN _and_
MARY _sitting down to it._

MARTIN. This is a poor wedding dinner I have for you, Mary; and
a poor house I brought you to. I wish it was seven thousand times better
for your sake.

MARY. Only we have to part again, there wouldn't be in the
world a pair happier than myself and yourself; but where's the good of
fretting when there's no help for it?

MARTIN. If I had but a couple of pounds, I could buy a little
ass and earn a share of money bringing turf to the big town; or I could
job at the fairs.