MARTIN DOUL. There's not a bit of fear of me losing my sight,
and if it's a dark day itself it's too well I see every wicked
wrinkle you have round by your eye.

TIMMY -- [looking at him sharply.] -- The day's not dark since
the clouds broke in the east.

MARTIN DOUL. Let you not be tormenting yourself trying to make
me afeard. You told me a power of bad lies the time I was blind,
and it's right now for you to stop, and be taking your rest (Mary
Doul comes in unnoticed on right with a sack filled with green
stuff on her arm), for it's little ease or quiet any person would
get if the big fools of Ireland weren't weary at times. (He looks
up and sees Mary Doul.) Oh, glory be to God, she's coming again.

[He begins to work busily with his back to her.]

TIMMY -- [amused, to Mary Doul, as she is going by without
looking at them.] -- Look on him now, Mary Doul. You'd be a
great one for keeping him steady at his work, for he's after
idling and blathering to this hour from the dawn of day.

MARY DOUL -- [stiffly.] -- Of what is it you're speaking, Timmy
the smith?

TIMMY -- [laughing.] -- Of himself, surely. Look on him there,
and he with the shirt on him ripping from his back. You'd have a
right to come round this night, I'm thinking, and put a stitch
into his clothes, for it's long enough you are not speaking one