m after, Molly Byrne and Timmy the smith, the two of
them on a high bed, and they screeching in hell.... It'll be a grand
thing that time to look on the two of them; and they twisting and
roaring out, and twisting and roaring again, one day and the next day,
and each day always and ever. It's not blind I'll be that time, and it
won't be hell to me, I'm thinking, but the like of heaven itself; and
it's fine care I'll be taking the Lord Almighty doesn't know. [He turns
to grope out.]

CURTAIN

ACT III

[The same Scene as in first Act, but gap in centre has been filled with
briars, or branches of some sort. Mary Doul, blind again, gropes her way
in on left, and sits as before. She has a few rushes with her. It is an
early spring day.]

MARY DOUL -- [mournfully.] -- Ah, God help me... God help me; the
blackness wasn't so black at all the other time as it is this time, and
it's destroyed I'll be now, and hard set to get my living working alone,
when it's few are passing and the winds are cold. (She begins shredding
rushes.) I'm thinking short days will be long days to me from this
time, and I sitting here, not seeing a blink, or hearing a word, and no
thought in my mind but long prayers that Martin Doul'll get his reward
in a short while for the villainy of his heart. It's great jokes the
people'll be making now, I'm thinking, and they pass me by, pointing
their fingers maybe, and asking what place is himself, the way it's no
quiet or decency I'll have from this day till I'm an old woman with long
white hair and it twisting from my brow. (She fumbles with her hair, and
then seems to hear something. Listens for a moment.) There's a queer,
slouching step coming on the road... . God help me, he's coming surely.

[She stays perfectly quiet. Martin Doul gropes in on right, blind also.]

MARTIN DOUL -- [gloomily.] -- The devil mend Mary Doul for putting lies
on me, and letting on she was grand. The devil mend the old Saint for
letting me see it was lies. (He sits down near her.) The devil mend
Timmy the smith for killing me with hard work, and keeping me with an
empty, windy stomach in me, in the day and in the night. Ten thousand
devils mend the soul of Molly Byrne -- (Mary Doul nods her head with
approval.) -- and the bad, wicked souls is hidden in all the women
of the world. (He rocks himself, with his hand over his face.) It's
lonesome I'll be from this day, and if living people is a bad lot, yet
Mary Doul, hersel