MARTIN DOUL -- [turning his head anxiously.] -- It's easy heard
you are; and will you be holding your tongue?
MARY DOUL -- [partly behind bush.] -- Come in now beside of me.
(They kneel down, still clearly visible.) Do you think they can
see us now, Martin Doul?
MARTIN DOUL. I'm thinking they can't, but I'm hard set to know;
for the lot of them young girls, the devil save them, have sharp,
terrible eyes, would pick out a poor man, I'm thinking, and he
lying below hid in his grave.
MARY DOUL. Let you not be whispering sin, Martin Doul, or maybe
it's the finger of God they'd see pointing to ourselves.
MARTIN DOUL. It's yourself is speaking madness, Mary Doul;
haven't you heard the Saint say it's the wicked do be blind?
MARY DOUL. If it is you'd have a right to speak a big, terrible
word would make the water not cure us at all.
MARTIN DOUL. What way would I find a big, terrible word, and I
shook with the fear; and if I did itself, who'd know rightly if
it's good words or bad would save us this day from himself?
MARY DOUL. They're coming. I hear their feet on the stones.
[The Saint comes in on right, with Timmy and Molly Byrne in
holiday clothes, the others as before.
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