TIMMY -- [officiously.] -- They are, holy father; they do be
always sitting here at the crossing of the roads, asking a bit of
copper from them that do pass, or stripping rushes for lights,
and they not mournful at all, but talking out straight with a
full voice, and making game with them that likes it.

SAINT -- [to Martin Doul and Mary Doul.] -- It's a hard life
you've had not seeing sun or moon, or the holy priests itself
praying to the Lord, but it's the like of you who are brave in a
bad time will make a fine use of the gift of sight the Almighty
God will bring to you today. (He takes his cloak and puts it
about him.) It's on a bare starving rock that there's the grave
of the four beauties of God, the way it's little wonder, I'm
thinking, if it's with bare starving people the water should be
used. (He takes the water and bell and slings them round his
shoulders.) So it's to the like of yourselves I do be going, who
are wrinkled and poor, a thing rich men would hardly look at at
all, but would throw a coin to or a crust of bread.

MARTIN DOUL -- [moving uneasily.] -- When they look on herself,
who is a fine woman.

TIMMY -- [shaking him.] -- Whisht now, and be listening to the
Saint.

SAINT -- [looks at them a moment, continues.] -- If it's raggy
and dirty you are itself, I'm saying, the Almighty God isn't at
all like the rich men of Ireland; and, with the power of the
water I'm after bringing in a little curagh into Cashla Bay,
He'll have pity on you, and put sight into your eyes.