章节正文
noise in her sleep, and the bats squeaking in
the trees.
MICHAEL. Whist. I hear some one
coming the road.
SARAH -- looking out right. -- It's some
one coming forward from the doctor's door.
MICHAEL. It's often his reverence does
be in there playing cards, or drinking a sup, or
singing songs, until the dawn of day.
SARAH. It's a big boast of a man with a
long step on him and a trumpeting voice.
It's his reverence surely; and if you have the
ring done, it's a great bargain we'll make now
and he after drinking his glass.
MICHAEL -- going to her and giving her
the ring. -- There's your ring, Sarah Casey;
but I'm thinking he'll walk by and not stop to
speak with the like of us at all.
SARAH -- tidying herself, in great excite-
ment. -- Let you be sitting here and keeping
a great blaze, the way he can look on my face;
and let you seem to be working, for it's great
love the like of him have to talk of work.
MICHAEL -- moodily, sitting down and
19
beginning to work at a tin can. -- Great love
surely.
SARAH -- eagerly. -- Make a great blaze
now, Michael Byrne.
[The priest comes in on right; she comes
forward in front of him.
SARAH -- in a very plausible voice. --
Good evening, your reverence. It's a grand
fine night, by the grace of God.
PRIEST. The Lord have mercy on us!
What kind of a living woman is it that you
are at all?
SARAH. It's Sarah Casey I am, your
reverence, the Beauty of Ballinacree, and it's
Michael Byrne is below in the ditch.
PRIEST. A holy pair, surely! Let you
get out of my way. [He tries to pass by.
SARAH -- keeping in front of him. -- We
are wanting a little word with your reverence.
PRIEST. I haven't a halfpenny at all.
Leave the road I'm saying.
SARAH. It isn't a halfpenny we're ask-
ing, holy father; but we were thinking maybe
we'd have a right to be getting married; and
we were thinking it's yourself would marry
us for not a halfpenny at all; for you're a
kind man, your reverence, a kind man with
the poor.
20
PRIEST -- with astonishment. -- Is it mar-
ry you for nothing at all?
SARAH. It is, your reverence; and we
were thinking maybe you'd give us a little
small bit of silver to pay for the ring.
PRIEST -- loudly. -- Let you hold your
tongue; let you be quiet, Sarah Casey. I've
no silver at all for the like of you; and if you
want to be married, let you pay your pound.
I'd do it for a pound only, and that's making
it a sight cheaper than I'd make it for one
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,
and I'll be saying till I'm an old woman:
"It's a cruel and a wicked thing to be bred
poor."
PRIEST -- turning up towards the fire. --
Let you not be crying, Sarah Casey. It's a
queer woman you are to be crying at the like
of that, and you your whole life walking the
roads.
SARAH -- sobbing. -- It's two years we
are getting the gold, your reverence, and now
you won't marry us for that bit, and we
hard-working poor people do be making cans
in the dark night, and blinding our eyes with
the black smoke from the bits of twigs we
do be burning.
[An old woman is heard singing tipsily
on the left.
PRIEST -- looking at the can Michael is
making. -- When will you have that can done,
Michael Byrne?
MICHAEL. In a short space only, your
22
reverence, for I'm putting the last dab of
solder on the rim.
PRIEST. Let you get a crown along with
the ten shillings and the gallon can, Sarah
Casey, and I will wed you so.
MARY -- suddenly shouting behind, tip-
sily. -- Larry was a fine lad, I'm saying; Larry
was a fine lad, Sarah Casey --
MICHAEL. Whist, now, the two of you.
There's my mother coming, and she'd have us
destroyed if she heard the like of that talk
the time she's been drinking her fill.
MARY -- comes in singing* --
And when we asked him what way he'd die,
And he hanging unrepented,
"Begob," says Larry, "that's all in my eye,
By the clergy first invented."
SARAH. Give me the jug now, or you'll
have it spilt in the ditch.
MARY -- holding the jug with both her
hands, in a stilted voice. -- Let you leave me
easy, Sarah Casey. I won't spill it, I'm saying.
God help you; are you thinking it's frothing
full to the brim it is at this hour of the night,
and I after carrying it in my two hands a long
step from Jemmy Neill's?
MICHAEL -- anxiously. -- Is there a sup
left at all?
23
SARAH -- looking into the jug. -- A little
small sup only I'm thinking.
MARY -- sees the priest, and holds out jug
towards him. -- God save your reverence. I'm
after bringing down a smart drop; and let
you drink it up now, for it's a middling
drouthy man you are at all times, God forgive
you, and this night is cruel dry.
[She tries to go towards him. Sarah
holds her back.
PRIEST -- waving her away. -- Let you
not be falling to the flames. Keep off, I'm
saying.
MARY -- persuasively. -- Let you not be
shy of us, your reverence. Aren't we all
sinners, God help us! Drink a sup now, I'm
telling you; and we won't let on a word about
it till the Judgment Day.
[She takes up a tin mug, pours some
porter into it, and gives it to him.
MARY -- singing, and holding the jug in
her hand* --
A lonesome ditch in Ballygan
The day you're beating a tenpenny can;
A lonesome bank in Ballyduff
The time . . . [She breaks off.
It's a bad, wicked song, Sarah Casey; and
let you put me down now in the ditch, and I
won't sing it till himself will be gone; for
24
it's bad enough he is, I'm thinking, without
ourselves making him worse.
SARAH -- putting her down, to the priest,
half laughing. -- Don't mind her at all, your
reverence. She's no shame the time she's a
drop taken; and if it was the Holy Father
from Rome was in it, she'd give him a little
sup out of her mug, and say the same as she'd
say to yourself.
MARY -- to the priest. -- Let you drink it
up, holy father. Let you drink it up, I'm say-
ing, and not be letting on you wouldn't do
the like of it, and you with a stack of pint
bottles above, reaching the sky.
PRIEST -- with resignation. -- Well, here's
to your good health, and God forgive us all.
[He drinks.
MARY. That's right now, your reverence,
and the blessing of God be on you. Isn't it
a grand thing to see you sitting down, with
no pride in you, and drinking a sup with the
like of us, and we the poorest, wretched,
starving creatures you'd see any place on the
earth?
PRIEST. If it's starving you are itself,
I'm thinking it's well for the like of you that
do be drinking when there's drouth on you,
and lying down to sleep when your legs are
the trees.
MICHAEL. Whist. I hear some one
coming the road.
SARAH -- looking out right. -- It's some
one coming forward from the doctor's door.
MICHAEL. It's often his reverence does
be in there playing cards, or drinking a sup, or
singing songs, until the dawn of day.
SARAH. It's a big boast of a man with a
long step on him and a trumpeting voice.
It's his reverence surely; and if you have the
ring done, it's a great bargain we'll make now
and he after drinking his glass.
MICHAEL -- going to her and giving her
the ring. -- There's your ring, Sarah Casey;
but I'm thinking he'll walk by and not stop to
speak with the like of us at all.
SARAH -- tidying herself, in great excite-
ment. -- Let you be sitting here and keeping
a great blaze, the way he can look on my face;
and let you seem to be working, for it's great
love the like of him have to talk of work.
MICHAEL -- moodily, sitting down and
19
beginning to work at a tin can. -- Great love
surely.
SARAH -- eagerly. -- Make a great blaze
now, Michael Byrne.
[The priest comes in on right; she comes
forward in front of him.
SARAH -- in a very plausible voice. --
Good evening, your reverence. It's a grand
fine night, by the grace of God.
PRIEST. The Lord have mercy on us!
What kind of a living woman is it that you
are at all?
SARAH. It's Sarah Casey I am, your
reverence, the Beauty of Ballinacree, and it's
Michael Byrne is below in the ditch.
PRIEST. A holy pair, surely! Let you
get out of my way. [He tries to pass by.
SARAH -- keeping in front of him. -- We
are wanting a little word with your reverence.
PRIEST. I haven't a halfpenny at all.
Leave the road I'm saying.
SARAH. It isn't a halfpenny we're ask-
ing, holy father; but we were thinking maybe
we'd have a right to be getting married; and
we were thinking it's yourself would marry
us for not a halfpenny at all; for you're a
kind man, your reverence, a kind man with
the poor.
20
PRIEST -- with astonishment. -- Is it mar-
ry you for nothing at all?
SARAH. It is, your reverence; and we
were thinking maybe you'd give us a little
small bit of silver to pay for the ring.
PRIEST -- loudly. -- Let you hold your
tongue; let you be quiet, Sarah Casey. I've
no silver at all for the like of you; and if you
want to be married, let you pay your pound.
I'd do it for a pound only, and that's making
it a sight cheaper than I'd make it for one
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,
and I'll be saying till I'm an old woman:
"It's a cruel and a wicked thing to be bred
poor."
PRIEST -- turning up towards the fire. --
Let you not be crying, Sarah Casey. It's a
queer woman you are to be crying at the like
of that, and you your whole life walking the
roads.
SARAH -- sobbing. -- It's two years we
are getting the gold, your reverence, and now
you won't marry us for that bit, and we
hard-working poor people do be making cans
in the dark night, and blinding our eyes with
the black smoke from the bits of twigs we
do be burning.
[An old woman is heard singing tipsily
on the left.
PRIEST -- looking at the can Michael is
making. -- When will you have that can done,
Michael Byrne?
MICHAEL. In a short space only, your
22
reverence, for I'm putting the last dab of
solder on the rim.
PRIEST. Let you get a crown along with
the ten shillings and the gallon can, Sarah
Casey, and I will wed you so.
MARY -- suddenly shouting behind, tip-
sily. -- Larry was a fine lad, I'm saying; Larry
was a fine lad, Sarah Casey --
MICHAEL. Whist, now, the two of you.
There's my mother coming, and she'd have us
destroyed if she heard the like of that talk
the time she's been drinking her fill.
MARY -- comes in singing* --
And when we asked him what way he'd die,
And he hanging unrepented,
"Begob," says Larry, "that's all in my eye,
By the clergy first invented."
SARAH. Give me the jug now, or you'll
have it spilt in the ditch.
MARY -- holding the jug with both her
hands, in a stilted voice. -- Let you leave me
easy, Sarah Casey. I won't spill it, I'm saying.
God help you; are you thinking it's frothing
full to the brim it is at this hour of the night,
and I after carrying it in my two hands a long
step from Jemmy Neill's?
MICHAEL -- anxiously. -- Is there a sup
left at all?
23
SARAH -- looking into the jug. -- A little
small sup only I'm thinking.
MARY -- sees the priest, and holds out jug
towards him. -- God save your reverence. I'm
after bringing down a smart drop; and let
you drink it up now, for it's a middling
drouthy man you are at all times, God forgive
you, and this night is cruel dry.
[She tries to go towards him. Sarah
holds her back.
PRIEST -- waving her away. -- Let you
not be falling to the flames. Keep off, I'm
saying.
MARY -- persuasively. -- Let you not be
shy of us, your reverence. Aren't we all
sinners, God help us! Drink a sup now, I'm
telling you; and we won't let on a word about
it till the Judgment Day.
[She takes up a tin mug, pours some
porter into it, and gives it to him.
MARY -- singing, and holding the jug in
her hand* --
A lonesome ditch in Ballygan
The day you're beating a tenpenny can;
A lonesome bank in Ballyduff
The time . . . [She breaks off.
It's a bad, wicked song, Sarah Casey; and
let you put me down now in the ditch, and I
won't sing it till himself will be gone; for
24
it's bad enough he is, I'm thinking, without
ourselves making him worse.
SARAH -- putting her down, to the priest,
half laughing. -- Don't mind her at all, your
reverence. She's no shame the time she's a
drop taken; and if it was the Holy Father
from Rome was in it, she'd give him a little
sup out of her mug, and say the same as she'd
say to yourself.
MARY -- to the priest. -- Let you drink it
up, holy father. Let you drink it up, I'm say-
ing, and not be letting on you wouldn't do
the like of it, and you with a stack of pint
bottles above, reaching the sky.
PRIEST -- with resignation. -- Well, here's
to your good health, and God forgive us all.
[He drinks.
MARY. That's right now, your reverence,
and the blessing of God be on you. Isn't it
a grand thing to see you sitting down, with
no pride in you, and drinking a sup with the
like of us, and we the poorest, wretched,
starving creatures you'd see any place on the
earth?
PRIEST. If it's starving you are itself,
I'm thinking it's well for the like of you that
do be drinking when there's drouth on you,
and lying down to sleep when your legs are
- bargain [´bɑ:gin]
n.买卖合同 v.议(价) (初中英语单词) - working [´wə:kiŋ] a.工人的；劳动的 (初中英语单词)
- eagerly [´i:gəli] ad.渴望地，急切地 (初中英语单词)
- priest [pri:st] n.教士；牧师；神父 (初中英语单词)
- astonishment [ə´stɔniʃmənt] n.吃惊；惊异 (初中英语单词)
- wicked [´wikid] a.邪恶的；不道德的 (初中英语单词)
- forgive [fə´giv] vt.原谅，谅解，宽恕 (初中英语单词)
- blessing [´blesiŋ] n.祝福 (初中英语单词)
- reverence [´revərəns] n.尊敬；敬畏；尊严 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- gallon [´gælən] n.加伦 (高中英语单词)
- hanging [´hæŋiŋ] n.绞刑 a.悬挂着的 (高中英语单词)
- anxiously [´æŋkʃəsli] ad.挂念地；渴望地 (高中英语单词)
- lonesome [´ləunsəm] a.孤独的；冷清清的 (高中英语单词)
- resignation [,rezig´neiʃən] n.辞职(书)；放弃；顺从 (高中英语单词)
- clergy [´klə:dʒi] n.牧师；教士 (英语四级单词)
- wanting [´wɔntiŋ, wɑ:n-] a.短缺的；不足的 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)
- beating [´bi:tiŋ] n.敲；搅打；失败 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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