They're looking at me. What is the good of praying? father says. God and the Mother of God have dropped asleep. What do they care, he says, though the whole land Squeal like a rabbit under a weasel's tooth? MARY You'll bring misfortune with your blasphemies Upon your father, or yourself, or me. I would to God he were home--ah, there he is. (SHEMUS _comes in_.) What was it kept you in the wood? You know I cannot get all sorts of accidents Out of my mind till you are home again. SHEMUS I'm in no mood to listen to your clatter. Although I tramped the woods for half a day, I've taken nothing, for the very rats, Badgers, and hedgehogs seem to have died of drought, And there was scarce a wind in the parched leaves. TEIG Then you have brought no dinner. SHEMUS After that I sat among the beggars at the cross-roads, And held a hollow hand among the others. MARY What, did you beg? SHEMUS I had no chance to beg, For when the beggars saw me they cried out They would not have another share their alms, And hunted me away with sticks and stones. TEIG You said that you would bring us food or money. SHEMUS What's in the house? TEIG A bit of mouldy bread. MARY There's flour enough to make another loaf. TEIG And when that's gone? MARY There is the hen in the coop. SHEMUS My curse upon the beggars, my curse upon them! TEIG And the last penny gone. SHEMUS When the hen's gone, What can we do but live on sorrel and dock, And dandelion, till our mouths are green? MARY God, that to this hour's found bit and sup, Will cater for us still. SHEMUS His kitchen's bare. There were five doors that I looked through this day And saw the dead and not a soul to wake them. MARY Maybe He'd have us die because He knows, When the ear is stopped and when the eye is stopped, That every wicked sight is hid from the eye, And all fool talk from the ear. SHEMUS Who's passing there? And mocking us with music? (_A stringed instrument without._) TEIG A young man plays it, There's an old woman and a lady with him. SHEMUS What is the trouble of the poor to her? Nothing at all or a harsh radishy sauce For the day's meat. MARY God's pity on the rich. Had we been through as many doors, and seen The dishes standing on the polished wood In the wax candle light, we'd be as hard, And there's the needle's eye at the end of all. SHEMUS My curse upon the rich. TEIG They're coming here. SHEMUS