MARTIN DOUL. It's hard set I am to know what would be right. And isn't it a poor thing to be blind when you can't run off itself, and you fearing to see?

MARY DOUL -- [nearly in tears.] -- It's a poor thing, G.o.d help us, and what good'll our gray hairs be itself, if we have our sight, the way we'll see them falling each day, and turning dirty in the rain?

[The bell sounds nearby.]

MARTIN DOUL -- [in despair.] -- He's coming now, and we won't get off from him at all.

MARY DOUL. Could we hide in the bit of a briar is growing at the west b.u.t.t of the church?

MARTIN DOUL. We'll try that, surely. (He listens a moment.) Let you make haste; I hear them trampling in the wood. [They grope over to church.]

MARY DOUL. It's the words of the young girls making a great stir in the trees. (They find the bush.) Here's the briar on my left, Martin; I'll go in first, I'm the big one, and I'm easy to see.

MARTIN DOUL -- [turning his head anxiously.] -- It's easy heard you are; and will you be holding your tongue?

MARY DOUL -- [partly behind bush.] -- Come in now beside of me. (They kneel down, still clearly visible.) Do you think they can see us now, Martin Doul?

MARTIN DOUL. I'm thinking they can't, but I'm hard set to know; for the lot of them young girls, the devil save them, have sharp, terrible eyes, would pick out a poor man, I'm thinking, and he lying below hid in his grave.

MARY DOUL. Let you not be whispering sin, Martin Doul, or maybe it's the finger of G.o.d they'd see pointing to ourselves.

MARTIN DOUL. It's yourself is speaking madness, Mary Doul; haven't you heard the Saint say it's the wicked do be blind?

MARY DOUL. If it is you'd have a right to speak a big, terrible word would make the water not cure us at all.

MARTIN DOUL. What way would I find a big, terrible word, and I shook with the fear; and if I did itself, who'd know rightly if it's good words or bad would save us this day from himself?

MARY DOUL. They're coming. I hear their feet on the stones.

[The Saint comes in on right, with Timmy and Molly Byrne in holiday clothes, the others as before.]

TIMMY. I've heard tell Martin Doul and Mary Doul were seen this day about on the road, holy father, and we were thinking you'd have pity on them and cure them again.

SAINT. I would, maybe, but where are they at all? I have little time left when I have the two of you wed in the church.

MAT SIMON -- [at their seat.] -- There are the rushes they do have lying round on the stones. It's not far off they'll be, surely.

MOLLY BYRNE -- [pointing with astonishment.] -- Look beyond, Timmy.

[They all look over and see Martin Doul.]

TIMMY. Well, Martin's a lazy fellow to be lying in there at the height of the day. (He goes over shouting.) Let you get up out of that. You were near losing a great chance by your sleepiness this day, Martin Doul.... The two of them's in it, G.o.d help us all!

MARTIN DOUL -- [scrambling up with Mary Doul.] -- What is it you want, Timmy, that you can't leave us in peace?

TIMMY. The Saint's come to marry the two of us, and I'm after speaking a word for yourselves, the way he'll be curing you now; for if you're a foolish man itself, I do be pitying you, for I've a kind heart, when I think of you sitting dark again, and you after seeing a while and working for your bread. [Martin Doul takes Mary Doul's hand and tries to grope his way off right; he has lost his hat, and they are both covered with dust and gra.s.s seeds.]

PEOPLE. You're going wrong. It's this way, Martin Doul.

[They push him over in front of the Saint, near centre. Martin Doul and Mary Doul stand with piteous hang-dog dejection.]

SAINT. Let you not be afeard, for there's great pity with the Lord.

MARTIN DOUL. We aren't afeard, holy father.

SAINT. It's many a time those that are cured with the well of the four beauties of G.o.d lose their sight when a time is gone, but those I cure a second time go on seeing till the hour of death. (He takes the cover from his can.) I've a few drops only left of the water, but, with the help of G.o.d, It'll be enough for the two of you, and let you kneel down now upon the road. [Martin Doul wheels round with Mary Doul and tries to get away.]

SAINT. You can kneel down here, I'm saying, we'll not trouble this time going to the church.

TIMMY -- [turning Martin Doul round, angrily.] -- Are you going mad in your head, Martin Doul? It's here you're to kneel. Did you not hear his reverence, and he speaking to you now?

SAINT. Kneel down, I'm saying, the ground's dry at your feet.

MARTIN DOUL -- [with distress.] -- Let you go on your own way, holy father. We're not calling you at all.

SAINT. I'm not saying a word of penance, or fasting itself, for I'm thinking the Lord has brought you great teaching in the blindness of your eyes; so you've no call now to be fearing me, but let you kneel down till I give you your sight.

MARTIN DOUL -- [more troubled.] -- We're not asking our sight, holy father, and let you walk on your own way, and be fasting, or praying, or doing anything that you will, but leave us here in our peace, at the crossing of the roads, for it's best we are this way, and we're not asking to see.

SAINT -- [to the People.] -- Is his mind gone that he's no wish to be cured this day, or to be living or working, or looking on the wonders of the world?

MARTIN DOUL. It's wonders enough I seen in a short s.p.a.ce for the life of one man only.

SAINT -- [severely.] -- I never heard tell of any person wouldn't have great joy to be looking on the earth, and the image of the Lord thrown upon men.

MARTIN DOUL -- [raising his voice.] -- Them is great sights, holy father.... What was it I seen when I first opened my eyes but your own bleeding feet, and they cut with the stones? That was a great sight, maybe, of the image of G.o.d.... And what was it I seen my last day but the villainy of h.e.l.l looking out from the eyes of the girl you're coming to marry -- the Lord forgive you -- with Timmy the smith. That was a great sight, maybe. And wasn't it great sights I seen on the roads when the north winds would be driving, and the skies would be harsh, till you'd see the horses and the a.s.ses, and the dogs itself, maybe, with their heads hanging, and they closing their eyes --.

SAINT. And did you never hear tell of the summer, and the fine spring, and the places where the holy men of Ireland have built up churches to the Lord? No man isn't a madman, I'm thinking, would be talking the like of that, and wishing to be closed up and seeing no sight of the grand glittering seas, and the furze that is opening above, and will soon have the hills shining as if it was fine creels of gold they were, rising to the sky.

MARTIN DOUL. Is it talking now you are of Knock and Ballavore? Ah, it's ourselves had finer sights than the like of them, I'm telling you, when we were sitting a while back hearing the birds and bees humming in every weed of the ditch, or when we'd be smelling the sweet, beautiful smell does be rising in the warm nights, when you do hear the swift flying things racing in the air, till we'd be looking up in our own minds into a grand sky, and seeing lakes, and big rivers, and fine hills for taking the plough.

SAINT -- [to People.] -- There's little use talking with the like of him.

MOLLY BYRNE. It's lazy he is, holy father, and not wanting to work; for a while before you had him cured he was always talking, and wishing, and longing for his sight.

MARTIN DOUL -- [turning on her.] -- I was longing, surely for sight; but I seen my fill in a short while with the look of my wife, and the look of yourself, Molly Byrne, when you'd the queer wicked grin in your eyes you do have the time you're making game with a man.

MOLLY BYRNE. Let you not mind him, holy father; for it's bad things he was saying to me a while back -- bad things for a married man, your reverence -- and you'd do right surely to leave him in darkness, if it's that is best fitting the villainy of his heart.

TIMMY -- [to Saint.] -- Would you cure Mary Doul, your reverence, who is a quiet poor woman, never did hurt to any, or said a hard word, saving only when she'd be vexed with himself, or with young girls would be making game of her below?

SAINT -- [to Mary Doul.] -- If you have any sense, Mary, kneel down at my feet, and I'll bring the sight again into your eyes.

MARTIN DOUL -- [more defiantly.] -- You will not, holy father. Would you have her looking on me, and saying hard words to me, till the hour of death?

SAINT -- [severely.] -- If she's wanting her sight I wouldn't have the like of you stop her at all. (To Mary Doul.) Kneel down, I'm saying.

MARY DOUL -- [doubtfully.] -- Let us be as we are, holy father, and then we'll be known again in a short while as the people is happy and blind, and be having an easy time, with no trouble to live, and we getting halfpence on the road.