I am than the great kings of the east. Hold up your head, I’m saying, for it’s soon you’ll be seeing me, and I not a bad one at all.

He touches her and she starts up.

Molly Byrne. Let you keep away from me, and not be soiling my chin.

People laugh loudly.

Martin Doul (bewildered). It’s Molly’s voice you have.

Molly Byrne. Why wouldn’t I have my own voice? Do you think I’m a ghost?

Martin Doul. Which of you all is herself? (He goes up to Bride). Is it you is Mary Doul? I’m thinking you’re more the like of what they said (peering at her). For you’ve yellow hair, and white skin, and it’s the smell of my own turf is rising from your shawl.

He catches her shawl.

Bride (pulling away her shawl). I’m not your wife, and let you get out of my way.

The People laugh again.

Martin Doul (with misgiving, to another Girl). Is it yourself it is? You’re not so fine looking, but I’m thinking you’d do, with the grand nose you have, and your nice hands and your feet.

Girl (scornfully). I never seen any person that took me for blind, and a seeing woman, I’m thinking, would never wed the like of you.

She turns away, and the People laugh once more, drawing back a little and leaving him on their left.

People (jeeringly). Try again, Martin, try again, and you’ll be finding her yet.

Martin Doul (passionately). Where is it you have her hidden away? Isn’t it a black shame for a drove of pitiful beasts the like of you to be making game of me, and putting a fool’s head on me the grand day of my life? Ah, you’re thinking you’re a fine lot, with you’re giggling, weeping eyes, a fine lot to be making game of myself and the woman I’ve heard called the great wonder of the west.

During this speech, which he gives with his back towards the church, Mary Doul has come out with her sight cured, and come down towards the right with a silly simpering smile, till she is a little behind Martin Doul.

Mary Doul (when he pauses). Which of you is Martin Doul?

Martin Doul (wheeling round). It’s her voice surely.

They stare at each other blankly.

Molly Byrne (to Martin Doul). Go up now and take her under the chin and be speaking the way you spoke to myself.

Martin Doul (in a low voice, with intensity). If I speak now, I’ll speak hard to the two of you——

Molly Byrne (to Mary Doul). You’re not saying a word, Mary. What is it you think of himself, with the fat legs on him, and the little neck like a ram?