MOLLY BYRNE -- [who has listened half mesmerized, starting away.]
-- It's the like of that talk you'd hear from a man would be
losing his mind.
MARTIN DOUL -- [going after her, passing to her right.] -- It'd
be little wonder if a man near the like of you would be losing
his mind. Put down your can now, and come along with myself, for
I'm seeing you this day, seeing you, maybe, the way no man has
seen you in the world. (He takes her by the arm and tries to
pull her away softly to the right.) Let you come on now, I'm
saying, to the lands of Iveragh and the Reeks of Cork, where you
won't set down the width of your two feet and not be crushing
fine flowers, and making sweet smells in the air.
MOLLY BYRNE -- [laying down the can; trying to free herself.] --
Leave me go, Martin Doul! Leave me go, I'm saying!
MARTIN DOUL. Let you not be fooling. Come along now the little
path through the trees.
MOLLY BYRNE -- [crying out towards forge.] -- Timmy the smith.
(Timmy comes out of forge, and Martin Doul lets her go. Molly
Byrne, excited and breathless, pointing to Martin Doul.) Did
ever you hear that them that loses their sight loses their senses
along with it, Timmy the smith!
TIMMY -- [suspicious, but uncertain.
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