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Synge, J. M. (John Millington), 1871-1909

"The Well of the Saints"


MARTIN DOUL. Go on now to be seeking a lonesome place where the
earth can hide you away; go on now, I'm saying, or you'll be
having men and women with their knees bled, and they screaming to
God for a holy water would darken their sight, for there's no man
but would liefer be blind a hundred years, or a thousand itself,
than to be looking on your like.
MARY DOUL -- [raising her stick.] -- Maybe if I hit you a strong
blow you'd be blind again, and having what you want.
[The Saint is seen in the church door with his head bent in
prayer.]
MARTIN DOUL -- [raising his stick and driving Mary Doul back
towards left.] -- Let you keep off from me now if you wouldn't
have me strike out the little handful of brains you have about on
the road.
[He is going to strike her, but Timmy catches him by the arm.]
TIMMY. Have you no shame to be making a great row, and the Saint
above saying his prayers?
MARTIN DOUL. What is it I care for the like of him? (Struggling
to free himself). Let me hit her one good one, for the love of
the Almighty God, and I'll be quiet after till I die.
TIMMY -- [shaking him.] -- Will you whisht, I'm saying.


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