MARTIN DOUL -- [turning round defiantly and picking up a stone.]
-- Keep off now, the yelping lot of you, or it's more than one
maybe will get a bloody head on him with the pitch of my stone.
Keep off now, and let you not be afeard; for we're going on the
two of us to the towns of the south, where the people will have
kind voices maybe, and we won't know their bad looks or their
villainy at all. (He takes Mary Doul's hand again.) Come along
now and we'll be walking to the south, for we've seen too much of
everyone in this place, and it's small joy we'd have living near
them, or hearing the lies they do be telling from the gray of
dawn till the night.

MARY DOUL -- [despondingly.] -- That's the truth, surely; and
we'd have a right to be gone, if it's a long way itself, as I've
heard them say, where you do have to be walking with a slough of
wet on the one side and a slough of wet on the other, and you
going a stony path with a north wind blowing behind. [They go
out.]

TIMMY. There's a power of deep rivers with floods in them where
you do have to be lepping the stones and you going to the south,
so I'm thinking the two of them will be drowned together in a
short while, surely.

SAINT. They have chosen their lot, and the Lord have mercy on
their souls. (He rings his bell.) And let the two of you come
up now into the church, Molly Byrne and Timmy the smith, till I
make your marriage and put my blessing on you all.

[He turns to the church; procession forms, and the curtain comes