]
MARTIN DOUL -- [a little plaintively.] -- I do be thinking in the
long nights it'd be a grand thing if we could see ourselves for
one hour, or a minute itself, the way we'd know surely we were
the finest man and the finest woman of the seven counties of the
east (bitterly) and then the seeing rabble below might be
destroying their souls telling bad lies, and we'd never heed a
thing they'd say.
MARY DOUL. If you weren't a big fool you wouldn't heed them this
hour, Martin Doul, for they're a bad lot those that have their
sight, and they do have great joy, the time they do be seeing a
grand thing, to let on they don't see it at all, and to be
telling fool's lies, the like of what Molly Byrne was telling to
yourself.
MARTIN DOUL. If it's lies she does be telling she's a sweet,
beautiful voice you'd never tire to be hearing, if it was only
the pig she'd be calling, or crying out in the long grass, maybe
after her hens. (Speaking pensively.) It should be a fine,
soft, rounded woman, I'm thinking, would have a voice the like of
that.
MARY DOUL -- [sharply again, scandalized.] -- Let you not be
minding if it's flat or rounded she is; for she's a flighty,
foolish woman, you'll hear when you're off a long way, and she
making a great noise and laughing at the well.
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