got drunk that night, I got drunk in the morning, and drunk the day after,âI was coming from the races beyondâand the third day they found Darcy.... Then I knew it was himself I was after hearing, and I wasnât afeard any more.
NORA (speaking sorrowfully and slowly). God spare Darcy, heâld always look in here and he passing up or passing down, and itâs very lonesome I was after him a long while (she looks over at the bed and lowers her voice, speaking very clearly), and then I got happy againâif itâs ever happy we are, stranger,âfor I got used to being lonesome.
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(A short pause; then she stands up.)
NORA. Was there any one on the last bit of the road, stranger, and you coming from Aughrim?
TRAMP. There was a young man with a drift of mountain ewes, and he running after them this way and that.
NORA (with a half-smile). Far down, stranger?
TRAMP. A piece only.
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(She fills the kettle and puts it on the fire.)
NORA. Maybe, if youâre not easy afeard, youâld stay here a short while alone with himself.
TRAMP. I would surely. A man thatâs dead can do no hurt.
NORA (speaking with a sort of constraint). Iâm going a little back to the west, stranger, for himself would go there one night and another and whistle at that place, and then the young man youâre after seeingâa kind of a farmer has come up from the sea to live in a cottage beyondâwould walk round to see if there was a thing weâld have to be done, and Iâm wanting him this night, the way he can go down into the glen when the sun goes up and tell the people that himself is dead.
TRAMP (looking at the body in the sheet). Itâs myself will go for him, lady of the house, and let you not be destroying yourself with the great rain.
NORA. You wouldnât find your way, stranger, for thereâs a small path only, and it running up between two sluigs where an ass and cart would be drowned. (She puts a shawl over her head.) Let you be making yourself easy, and saying a prayer for his soul, and itâs not long Iâll be coming again.
TRAMP (moving uneasily). Maybe if youâd a piece of a grey thread and a sharp needleâthereâs great safety in a needle, lady of the houseâIâld be putting a little stitch here and there in my old coat, the time Iâll be praying for his soul, and it going up naked to the saints of God.
NORA (takes a needle and thread from the front of her dress and gives it to him). Thereâs the needle, stranger, and Iâm thinking you wonât be lonesome, and you used to the back hills, for isnât a dead man itself more company than to be sitting alone, and hearing the winds crying, and you not knowing on what thing your mind would stay?
TRAMP (slowly). Itâs true, surely, and the Lord have mercy on us all!
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(NORA goes out. The TRAMP begins stitching one of the tags in his coat, saying the âDe Profundisâ under his breath. In an instant the sheet is drawn slowly down, and DAN BURKE looks out. The TRAMP moves uneasily, then looks up, and springs to his feet with a movement of terror.)
DAN (with a hoarse voice). Donât be afeard, stranger; a man thatâs dead can do no hurt.
TRAMP (trembling). I meant no harm, your honour; and wonât you leave me easy to be saying a little prayer for your soul?
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(A long whistle is heard outside.)
DAN (sitting up in his bed and speaking fiercely). Ah, the devil mend her.... Do you hear that, stranger? Did ever you hear another woman could whistle the like of that with two fingers in her mouth? (He looks at the table hurriedly.) Iâm destroyed with the drouth, and let you bring me a drop quickly before herself will come back.
TRAMP (doubtfully). Is it not dead you are?
DAN. How would I be dead, and I as dry as a baked bone, stranger?
TRAMP (pouring out the whisky). What will herself say if she smells the stuff on you, for Iâm thinking