of my own pairs is living here in the place.
SARAH. Where would the like of us get
a pound, your reverence?
PRIEST. Wouldn't you easy get it with
your selling asses, and making cans, and your
stealing east and west in Wicklow and Wex-
ford and the county Meath? (He tries to
pass her.) Let you leave the road, and not
be plaguing me more.
SARAH -- pleadingly, taking money from
her pocket. -- Wouldn't you have a little mercy
on us, your reverence? (Holding out money.)
Wouldn't you marry us for a half a sovereign,
and it a nice shiny one with a view on it of
the living king's mamma?
PRIEST. If it's ten shillings you have,
let you get ten more the same way, and I'll
marry you then.


21

SARAH -- whining. -- It's two years we
are getting that bit, your reverence, with our
pence and our halfpence and an odd three-
penny bit; and if you don't marry us now,
himself and the old woman, who has a great
drouth, will be drinking it to-morrow in the
fair (she puts her apron to her eyes, half sob-
bing), and then I won't be married any time,