(_Sings_.)

"You'll dye your petticoat, you'll dye it red, And through the world you'll beg your bread; And you not hearkening to e'er a word I said, It's then you'll know it to be true!"

_Celia_: (_Sings_.)

"Come here my little birdeen! Coo!"

_Conan_: (_Putting his hand on her mouth_.) Be going out now in place of calling that bird that is as lazy and as useless as yourself.

_Celia_: My little dove! Where are you at all!

_Conan_: A cat to have ate it would be no great loss!

_Celia_: Did you yourself do away with him?

_Conan_: I did not.

_Celia_: (_Wildly breaking free throws herself down_.) There is no place for him to be only in under the settle!

_Conan_: (_Dragging at her_.) It is not there.

_Celia_: (_Who has put in her hand_.) O what is that? It has hurt me!

_Conan_: A nail sticking up out of the floor.

_Celia_: (_Jumping up with a cry_.) It's a crow!

A great big wicked black crow!

_Conan_: If it is let you leave it there.

_Celia_: (_Weeping_.) I'm certain sure it has my pigeon killed and ate!

_Conan_: To be so doleful after a pigeon! You haven't a stim of sense!

_Celia_: It was you gave it leave to do that!

_Conan_: Stop your whimpering and blubbering!

What way can I settle the world and I being hara.s.sed and hampered with such a contrary cla.s.s!

I give you my word I have a mind to change myself into a ravenous beast will kill and devour ye all! That much would be no sin when it would be according to my nature. (_Sings or chants_.)

"On Clontarf he like a lion fell, Thousands plunged in their own gore; I to be such a lion now I'd ask for nothing more!"

_Celia: (Sitting down miserable_.) You are a very wicked man!

_Conan_: Get up out of that or I'll make you!

_Celia_: I will not! I'm certain you did this cruel thing!

_Conan: (Taking up bellows_.) I'd hardly begrudge one of my six blasts to be quit of your slowness and your sluggish ways! Rise up now before I'll make you that you'll want shoes that will never wear out, you being ever on the trot and on the run from morning to the fall of night! Start up now! I'm on the bounds of doing it!

_Celia_: What are you raving about?

_Conan_: To get quit of you I cannot, but to change your nature I might! I give you warning ...one, two, three!

_(Blows.) (Sings: "With a chirrup.") (Air, "Garryowen.")_

"Let you rise and go light like a bird of the air That goes high in its flight ever seeking its share; Let you never go easy or pine for a rest Till you'll be a world's wonder and work with the best!

With a chirrup, a chirrup, a chirrup, A chirrup, a chirrup, a chirrup, A chirrup, a chirrup, a chirrup, a chirrup, A chirrup, a chirrup, a chirrup, a chirrup!"

_Celia_: (_Staring and standing up_.) What is that? Is it the wind or is it a wisp of flame that is going athrough my bones!

(_Rock and Flannery come in_.)

(_Celia rushes out_.)

_Rock_: (_Out of breath_.) We went looking for a car to bring you to the train!

_Flannery_: There was not one to be found.

_Rock_: But those that are too costly!

_Flannery_: Till we went to the Doctor of the Union.

_Rock_: For to ask a lift for you on the ambulance....

_Flannery_: But when he heard what we had to tell--

_Rock_: He said he would bring you and glad to do it on his own car, and no need to hansel him.

_Flannery_: And welcome, if it was as far as the grave!

_Rock_: All he is sorry for he hasn't a horse that would rise you up through the sky--

_Conan_: Let him give me the lift so--it will be a help to me. It wasn't only with his own hand Alexander won the world!

_Flannery_: Unless you might give him, he was saying, a blast of the bellows, that would change his dispensary into a racing stable, and all that come to be cured into jockeys and into grooms!

_Conan_: What chatterers ye are! I gave ye no leave to speak of that.

_Rock_: Ah, it costs nothing to be giving out newses.

_Flannery_: The world and all will be coming to the door to throw up their hats for you, and you making your start, cars and a.s.s cars, jennets and traps. _(Sings.)_

"O Bay of Dublin, how my heart your troublin', Your beauty haunts me like a fever dream; Like frozen fountains that the sun set bubblin'

My heart's blood warms when I but hear your name!"

_Conan_: It's my death I'll come to in Dublin.

That news to get there ahead of me I'll be pressed in the throng as thin as a griddle.