Mary Doul is seen on left coming forward softly.]

TIMMY -- [with blank amazement.] -- Oh, the blind is wicked
people, and it's no lie. But he'll walk off this day and not be
troubling us more.

[Turns back left and picks up Martin Doul's coat and stick; some
things fall out of coat pocket, which he gathers up again.]

MARTIN DOUL -- [turns around, sees Mary Doul, whispers to Molly
Byrne with imploring agony.] -- Let you not put shame on me,
Molly, before herself and the smith. Let you not put shame on me
and I after saying fine words to you, and dreaming . . . dreams .
. . . in the night. (He hesitates, and looks round the sky.) Is
it a storm of thunder is coming, or the last end of the world?
(He staggers towards Mary Doul, tripping slightly over tin can.)
The heavens is closing, I'm thinking, with darkness and great
trouble passing in the sky. (He reaches Mary Doul, and seizes
her left arm with both his hands -- with a frantic cry.) Is it
darkness of thunder is coming, Mary Doul! Do you see me clearly
with your eyes?

MARY DOUL -- [snatches her arm away, and hits him with empty sack
across the face.] -- I see you a sight too clearly, and let you
keep off from me now.

MOLLY BYRNE -- [clapping her hands.] -- That's right, Mary.
That's the way to treat the like of him is after standing there
at my feet and asking me to go off with him, till I'd grow an old
wretched road-woman the like of yourself.