FIRST MERCHANT. Thanks to that lie I told about her ships And that about the herdsman lying sick, We shall be too much thronged with souls to-morrow.

SECOND MERCHANT. What has she in her coffers now but mice?

FIRST MERCHANT. When the night fell and I had shaped myself Into the image of the man-headed owl, I hurried to the cliffs of Donegal, And saw with all their canvas full of wind And rushing through the parti-coloured sea Those ships that bring the woman grain and meal.

They're but three days from us.

SECOND MERCHANT. When the dew rose I hurried in like feathers to the east, And saw nine hundred oxen driven through Meath With goads of iron, They're but three days from us.

FIRST MERCHANT. Three days for traffic.

(PEASANTS crowd in with TEIG and SHEMUS.)

SHEMUS. Come in, come in, you are welcome.

That is my wife. She mocked at my great masters, And would not deal with them. Now there she is; She does not even know she was a fool, So great a fool she was.

TEIG. She would not eat One crumb of bread bought with our master's money, But lived on nettles, dock, and dandelion.

SHEMUS. There's n.o.body could put into her head

That Death is the worst thing can happen us.

Though that sounds simple, for her tongue grew rank With all the lies that she had heard in chapel.

Draw to the curtain.

(TEIG draws it.)

You'll not play the fool While these good gentlemen are there to save you.

SECOND MERCHANT.

Since the drought came they drift about in a throng, Like autumn leaves blown by the dreary winds.

Come, deal--come, deal.

FIRST MERCHANT. Who will come deal with us?

SHEMUS. They are out of spirit, Sir, with lack of food, Save four or five. Here, sir, is one of these; The others will gain courage in good time.

MIDDLE-AGED-MAN. I come to deal--if you give honest price.

FIRST MERCHANT (reading in a book) John Maher, a man of substance, with dull mind, And quiet senses and unventurous heart.

The angels think him safe." Two hundred crowns, All for a soul, a little breath of wind.

THE MAN. I ask three hundred crowns. You have read there That no mere lapse of days can make me yours.

FIRST MERCHANT.

There is something more writ here--"often at night He is wakeful from a dread of growing poor, And thereon wonders if there's any man That he could rob in safety."

A PEASANT. Who'd have thought it?

And I was once alone with him at midnight.

ANOTHER PEASANT. I will not trust my mother after this.

FIRST MERCHANT. There is this crack in you--two hundred crowns.

A PEASANT. That's plenty for a rogue.

ANOTHER PEASANT. I'd give him nothing.

SHEMUS. You'll get no more--so take what's offered you.

(A general murmur, during which the MIDDLE-AGED-MAN takes money, and slips into background, where he sinks on to a seat.)

FIRST MERCHANT. Has no one got a better soul than that?

If only for the credit of your parishes, Traffic with us.

A WOMAN. What will you give for mine?

FIRST MERCHANT (reading in book) "Soft, handsome, and still young "--not much, I think."

It's certain that the man she's married to Knows nothing of what's hidden in the jar Between the hour-gla.s.s and the pepper-pot."

THE WOMAN. The scandalous book.

FIRST MERCHANT. "Nor how when he's away At the horse fair the hand that wrote what's hid Will tap three times upon the window-pane."

THE WOMAN. And if there is a letter, that is no reason Why I should have less money than the others.

FIRST MERCHANT. You're almost safe, I give you fifty crowns

(She turns to go.)

A hundred, then.

SHEMUS. Woman, have sense-come, Come.

Is this a time to haggle at the price?

There, take it up. There, there. That's right.

(She takes them and goes into the crowd.)

FIRST MERCHANT. Come, deal, deal, deal. It is but for charity We buy such souls at all; a thousand sins Made them our Master's long before we came.

(ALEEL enters.)

ALEEL. Here, take my soul, for I am tired of it.

I do not ask a price.

SHEMUS. Not ask a price?

How can you sell your soul without a price?

I would not listen to his broken wits; His love for Countess Cathleen has so crazed him He hardly understands what he is saying.

ALEEL. The trouble that has come on Countess Cathleen, The sorrow that is in her wasted face, The burden in her eyes, have broke my wits, And yet I know I'd have you take my soul.