Shawn (in terror). Keep a good hold, Philly. Be wary, for the love of God. For I’m thinking he would liefest wreak his pains on me.

Christy (almost gaily). If I do lay my hands on you, it’s the way you’ll be at the fall of night, hanging as a scarecrow for the fowls of hell. Ah, you’ll have a gallous jaunt I’m saying, coaching out through Limbo with my father’s ghost.

Shawn (to Pegeen.) Make haste, will you? Oh, isn’t he a holy terror, and isn’t it true for Father Reilly, that all drink’s a curse that has the lot of you so shaky and uncertain now?

Christy If I can wring a neck among you, I’ll have a royal judgment looking on the trembling jury in the courts of law. And won’t there be crying out in Mayo the day I’m stretched upon the rope with ladies in their silks and satins snivelling in their lacy kerchiefs, and they rhyming songs and ballads on the terror of my fate?

He squirms round on the floor and bitesShawn’s leg.

Shawn (shrieking). My leg’s bit on me. He’s the like of a mad dog, I’m thinking, the way that I will surely die.

Christy (delighted with himself). You will then, the way you can shake out hell’s flags of welcome for my coming in two weeks or three, for I’m thinking Satan hasn’t many have killed their da in Kerry, and in Mayo too.

Old Mahon comes in behind on all fours and looks on unnoticed.

Men (to Pegeen). Bring the sod, will you?

Pegeen (coming over). God help him so. (Burns his leg.)

Christy (kicking and screaming). O, glory be to God!

He kicks loose from the table, and they all drag him towards the door.

Jimmy (seeing old Mahon). Will you look what’s come in?

They all drop Christy and run left.

Christy (scrambling on his knees face to face with old Mahon). Are you coming to be killed a third time, or what ails you now?

Mahon For what is it they have you tied?

Christy They’re taking me to the peelers to have me hanged for slaying you.

Michael (apologetically). It is the will of God that all should guard their little cabins from the treachery of law, and what would my daughter be doing if I was ruined or was hanged itself?

Mahon (grimly, loosening Christy). It’s little I care if you put a bag on her back, and went picking cockles till the hour of death; but my son and myself will be going our own way, and we’ll have great times from this out telling stories of the villainy of Mayo, and the fools is here. (To Christy, who is freed.) Come on now.

Christy Go with you, is it? I will then, like a gallant captain with his heathen slave. Go on now and I’ll see you from this day stewing my oatmeal and washing my spuds, for I’m master of all fights from now. (Pushing Mahon.) Go on, I’m saying.