change? SARAH -- musingly. -- I'm thinking there isn't anything ails me, Michael Byrne; but the spring-time is a queer time, and its* queer thoughts maybe I do think at whiles. MICHAEL. It's hard set you'd be to think queerer than welcome, Sarah Casey; but what will you gain dragging me to the priest this night, I'm saying, when it's new thoughts you'll be thinking at the dawn of day? SARAH -- teasingly. -- It's at the dawn of day I do be thinking I'd have a right to be going off to the rich tinker's do be travelling from Tibradden to the Tara Hill; for it'd be a fine life to be driving with young Jaunting
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Jim, where there wouldn't be any big hills to break the back of you, with walking up and walking down. MICHAEL -- with dismay. -- It's the like of that you do be thinking! SARAH. The like of that, Michael Byrne, when there is a bit of sun in it, and a kind air, and a great smell coming from the thorn trees is above your head. MICHAEL -- looks at her for a moment with horror, and then hands her the ring. -- Will that fit you now? SARAH -- trying it on. -- It's making it tight you are, and the edges sharp on the tin. MICHAEL -- looking at it carefully. -- It's the fat of your own finger, Sarah Casey; and isn't it a mad thing I'm saying again that you'd be asking marriage of me, or mak- ing a talk of going away from me, and you thriving and getting your good health by the grace of the Almighty God? SARAH -- giving it back to him. -- Fix it now, and it'll do, if you're wary you don't squeeze it again. MICHAEL -- moodily, working again. -- It's easy saying be wary; there's many things easy said, Sarah Casey, you'd wonder a fool even would be saying at all. (He starts vio-
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lently.) The divil mend you, I'm scalded again! SARAH -- scornfully. -- If you are, it's a clumsy man you are this night, Michael Byrne (raising her voice); and let you make haste now, or herself will be coming with the porter. MICHAEL -- defiantly, raising his voice.* Let me make haste? I'll be making haste maybe to hit you a great clout; for I'm think- ing on the day I got you above at Rathvanna, and the way you began crying out and say- ing, "I'll go back to my ma," and I'm thinking on the way I came behind you that time, and hit you a great clout in the lug, and how quiet and easy it was you came along with me from that hour to this present day. SARAH -- standing up and throwing all her sticks into the fire. -- And a big fool I was too, maybe; but we'll be seeing Jaunting Jim to-morrow in Ballinaclash, and he after get- ting a great price for his white foal in the horse-fair of Wicklow, the way it'll be a great sight to see him squandering his share of gold, and he with a grand eye for a fine horse, and a grand eye for a woman. MICHAEL -- working again with impa-
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tience. -- The divil do him good with the two of them. SARAH -- kicking up the ashes with her foot. -- Ah, he's a great lad, I'm telling you, and it's proud and happy I'll be to see him, and he the first one called me the Beauty of Ballinacree, a fine name for a woman. MICHAEL -- with contempt. -- It's the like of that name they do be putting on the horses they have below racing in Arklow. It's easy pleased you are, Sarah Casey, easy pleased with a big word, or the liar speaks it. SARAH. Liar! MICHAEL. Liar, surely. SARAH -- indignantly. -- Liar, is it? Didn't you ever hear tell of the peelers fol- lowed me ten miles along the Glen Malure, and they talking love to me in the dark night, or of the children you'll meet coming from school and they saying one to the other, "It's this day we seen Sarah Casey, the Beauty of Ballinacree, a great sight surely." MICHAEL. God help the lot of them! SARAH. It's yourself you'll be calling God to help, in two weeks or three, when you'll be waking up in the dark night and thinking you see me coming with the sun on me, and I driving a high cart with Jaunting
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Jim going behind. It's lonesome and cold you'll be feeling the ditch where you'll be lying down that night, I'm telling you, and you hearing the old woman making a great noise in her
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