SHEELA. Look at poor Sheamus. He is going over to her.

(SHEAMUS _gets up and goes over to her._)

SHEAMUS. Will you dance this reel with me, Oona, as soon as the piper is ready?

HANRAHAN (_rising up_). I am Tumaus Hanrahan, and I am speaking now to Oona ni Regaun; and as she is willing to be talking to me, I will allow no living person to come between us.

SHEAMUS (_without heeding_ HANRAHAN). Will you not dance with me, Oona?

HANRAHAN (_savagely_). Didn't I tell you now that it was to me Oona ni Regaun was talking? Leave that on the spot, you clown, and do not raise a disturbance here.

SHEAMUS. Oona----

HANRAHAN (_shouting_). Leave that! (SHEAMUS _goes away, and comes over to the two old women._)

SHEAMUS. Maurya Regaun, I am asking leave of you to throw that ill-mannerly, drunken vagabond out of the house. Myself and my two brothers will put him out if you will allow us; and when he's outside I'll settle with him.

MAURYA. Sheamus, do not; I am afraid of him. That man has a curse they say that would split the trees.

SHEAMUS. I don't care if he had a curse that would overthrow the heavens; it is on me it will fall, and I defy him! If he were to kill me on the moment, I will not allow him to put his spells on Oona.

Give me leave, Maurya.

SHEELA. Do not, Sheamus. I have a better advice than that.

SHEAMUS. What advice is that?

SHEELA. I have a way in my head to put him out. If you follow my advice, he will go out himself as quiet as a lamb; and when you get him out, slap the door on him, and never let him in again.

MAURYA. Luck from G.o.d on you, Sheela, and tell us what's in your head.

SHEELA. We will do it as nice and easy as you ever saw. We will put him to twist a hay-rope till he is outside, and then we will shut the door on him.

SHEAMUS. It's easy to say, but not easy to do. He will say to you, "Make a hay-rope yourself."

SHEELA. We will say then that no one ever saw a hay-rope made, that there is no one at all in the house to make the beginning of it.

SHEAMUS. But will _he_ believe that we never saw a hay-rope?

SHEELA. He believe it, is it? He'd believe anything; he'd believe that himself is king over Ireland when he has a gla.s.s taken, as he has now.

SHEAMUS. But what excuse can we make for saying we want a hay-rope?

MAURYA. Can't you think of something yourself, Sheamus?

SHEAMUS. Sure, I can say the wind is rising, and I must bind the thatch, or it will be off the house.

SHEELA. But he'll know the wind is not rising if he does but listen at the door. You must think of some other excuse, Sheamus.

SHEAMUS. Wait, I have a good idea now; say there is a coach upset at the bottom of the hill, and that they are asking for a hay-rope to mend it with. He can't see as far as that from the door, and he won't know it's not true it is.

MAURYA. That's the story, Sheela. Now, Sheamus, go among the people and tell them the secret. Tell them what they have to say, that no one at all in this country ever saw a hay-rope, and put a good skin on the lie yourself. (SHEAMUS _goes from person to person whispering to them, and some of them begin laughing._ _The piper has begun playing. Three or four couples rise up._)

HANRAHAN (_after looking at them for a couple of minutes_).

Whisht! Let ye sit down! Do ye call that dragging, dancing? You are tramping the floor like so many cattle. You are as heavy as bullocks, as awkward as a.s.ses. May my throat be choked if I would not sooner be looking at as many lame ducks hopping on one leg through the house.

Leave the floor to Oona ni Regaun and to me.

ONE OF THE MEN GOING TO DANCE. And for what would we leave the floor to you?

HANRAHAN. The swan of the brink of the waves, the royal phoenix, the pearl of the white breast, the Venus amongst the women, Oona ni Regaun, is standing up with me, and any place she rises up, the sun and the moon bow to her, and so shall ye yet. She is too handsome, too sky-like for any other woman to be near her. But wait a while!

Before I'll show you how the Connacht boy can dance, I will give you the poem I made on the star of the province of Munster, on Oona ni Regaun.

Get up, O sun among women, and we will sing the song together, verse about, and then we'll show them what right dancing is! (OONA _rises._)

HANRAHAN.

She is white Oona of the yellow hair, The Coolin that was destroying my heart inside me; She is my secret love and my lasting affection; I care not for ever for any woman but her.

OONA.

O bard of the black eye, it is you Who have found victory in the world and fame; I call on yourself and I praise your mouth; You have set my heart in my breast astray.

HANRAHAN.

O fair Oona of the golden hair, My desire, my affection, my love and my store, Herself will go with her bard afar; She has hurt his heart in his breast greatly.

OONA.

I would not think the night long nor the day, Listening to your fine discourse; More melodious is your mouth than the singing of the birds; From my heart in my breast you have found love.

HANRAHAN.

I walked myself the entire world, England, Ireland, France, and Spain; I never saw at home or afar Any girl under the sun like fair Oona.

OONA.

I have heard the melodious harp On the streets of Cork playing to us; More melodious by far I thought your voice, More melodious by far your mouth than that.

HANRAHAN.

I was myself one time a poor barnacle goose; The night was not plain to me more than the day Till I got sight of her; she is the love of my heart That banished from me my grief and my misery.

OONA.

I was myself on the morning of yesterday Walking beside the wood at the break of day; There was a bird there was singing sweetly, How I love love, and is it not beautiful?

(_A shout and a noise, and_ SHEAMUS O'HERAN _rushes in._)

SHEAMUS. Ububu! Ohone-y-o, go deo! The big coach is overthrown at the foot of the hill! The bag in which the letters of the country are is bursted; and there is neither tie, nor cord, nor rope, nor anything to bind it up. They are calling out now for a hay sugaun--whatever kind of thing that is; the letters and the coach will be lost for want of a hay sugaun to bind them.

HANRAHAN. Do not be bothering us; we have our poem done, and we are going to dance. The coach does not come this way at all.