] -- It's Molly's voice you have.
MOLLY BYRNE. Why wouldn't I have my own voice? Do you think I'm
a ghost?
MARTIN DOUL. Which of you all is herself? (He goes up to
Bride.) Is it you is Mary Doul? I'm thinking you're more the
like of what they said (peering at her.) For you've yellow hair,
and white skin, and it's the smell of my own turf is rising from
your shawl. [He catches her shawl.]
BRIDE -- [pulling away her shawl.] -- I'm not your wife, and let
you get out of my way. [The People laugh again.]
MARTIN DOUL -- [with misgiving, to another Girl.] -- Is it
yourself it is? You're not so fine-looking, but I'm thinking
you'd do, with the grand nose you have, and your nice hands and
your feet.
GIRL -- [scornfully.] -- I never seen any person that took me for
blind, and a seeing woman, I'm thinking, would never wed the like
of you.
[She turns away, and the People laugh once more, drawing back a
little and leaving him on their left.]
PEOPLE -- [jeeringly.] -- Try again, Martin, try again, and
you'll be finding her yet.
MARTIN DOUL -- [passionately.] -- Where is it you have her hidden
away? Isn't it a black shame for a drove of pitiful beasts the
like of you to be making game of me, and putting a fool's head on
me the grand day of my life? Ah, you're thinking you're a fine
lot, with your giggling, weeping eyes, a fine lot to be making
game of myself and the woman I've heard called the great wonder
of the west.
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