Widow Quin If you’re a wonder itself, you’d best be hasty, for them lads caught a maniac one time and pelted the poor creature till he ran out, raving and foaming, and was drowned in the sea.

Mahon (with philosophy). It’s true mankind is the divil when your head’s astray. Let me out now and I’ll slip down the boreen, and not see them so.

Widow Quin (showing him out). That’s it. Run to the right, and not a one will see.

He runs off.

Philly (wisely). You’re at some gaming, Widow Quin; but I’ll walk after him and give him his dinner and a time to rest, and I’ll see then if he’s raving or as sane as you.

Widow Quin (annoyed). If you go near that lad, let you be wary of your head, I’m saying. Didn’t you hear him telling he was crazed at times?

Philly I heard him telling a power; and I’m thinking we’ll have right sport, before night will fall. (He goes out).

Jimmy Well, Philly’s a conceited and foolish man. How could that madman have his senses and his brain-pan slit? I’ll go after them and see him turn on Philly now.

He goes; Widow Quin hides poteen behind counter. Then hubbub outside.

Voices There you are! Good jumper! Grand lepper! Darlint boy! He’s the racer! Bear him on, will you!

Christy comes in, in Jockey’s dress, with Pegeen Mike, Sara, and other girls, and men.

Pegeen (to crowd). Go on now and don’t destroy him and he drenching with sweat. Go along, I’m saying, and have your tug-of-warring till he’s dried his skin.

Crowd Here’s his prizes! A bagpipes! A fiddle was played by a poet in the years gone by! A flat and three-thorned black-thorn would lick the scholars out of Dublin town!

Christy (taking prizes from the men). Thank you kindly, the lot of you. But you’d say it was little only I did this day if you’d seen me a while since striking my one single blow.

Town Crier (outside, ringing a bell). Take notice, last event of this day! Tug-of-warring on the green below! Come on, the lot of you! Great achievements for all Mayo men!

Pegeen Go on, and leave him for to rest and dry. Go on, I tell you, for he’ll do no more.

She hustles crowd out; Widow Quin following them.

Men (going). Come on then. Good luck for the while!

Pegeen (radiantly, wiping his face with her shawl). Well, you’re the lad, and you’ll have great times from this out when you could win that wealth of prizes, and you sweating in the heat of noon!

Christy (looking at her with delight). I’ll have great times if I win the crowning prize I’m seeking now, and that’s your promise that you’ll wed me in a fortnight, when our banns is called.

Pegeen (backing away from him). You’ve right daring to go ask me that, when all knows you’ll be starting to some girl in your own townland, when your father’s rotten in four months, or five.