-- Go along,
Sarah Casey. Would you be doing murder at
my feet? Go along from me now, and wasn't
I a big fool to have to do with you when it's
nothing but distraction and torment I get
from the kindness of my heart?
SARAH --
shouting. -- I've bet a power of
strong lads east and west through the world,
and are you thinking I'd turn back from a
priest? Leave the road now, or maybe I
would strike yourself.
PRIEST. You would not, Sarah Casey.
I've no fear for the lot of you; but let you
walk off, I'm saying, and not be coming where
47
you've no business, and screeching tumult and
murder at the doorway of the church.
SARAH. I'll not go a step till I have her
head broke, or till I'm wed with himself. If
you want to get shut of us, let you marry us
now, for I'm thinking the ten shillings in gold
is a good price for the like of you, and you
near burst with the fat.
PRIEST. I wouldn't have you coming in
on me and soiling my church; for there's
nothing at all, I'm thinking, would keep the
like of you from hell.
(He throws down the
ten shillings on the ground.) Gather up your
gold now, and begone from my sight, for if
ever I set an eye on you again you'll hear me
telling the peelers who it was stole the black
ass belonging to Philly O'Cullen, and whose
hay it is the grey ass does be eating.
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