MICHAEL. Hurry on now. He's a great
man to have kept us from fooling our gold;
and we'll have a great time drinking that bit
with the trampers on the green of Clash.
[
They gather up their things. The priest
stands up. PRIEST --
lifting up his hand. -- I've
sworn not to call the hand of man upon your
crimes to-day; but I haven't sworn I wouldn't
call the fire of heaven from the hand of the
Almighty God.
[
He begins saying a Latin malediction in
a loud ecclesiastical voice. MARY. There's an old villain.
All --
together. -- Run, run. Run for
your lives.
[
They rush out, leaving the Priest master
of the situation.CURTAIN
End of Project Gutenberg' Etext of The Tinker's Wedding by J. M. Synge
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