MARIE BRUIN Both the tongue and face were strange. MAURTEEN BRUIN Some strangers came last week to Clover Hill; She must be one of them. BRIDGET BRUIN I am afraid. MAURTEEN BRUIN The priest will keep all harm out of the house. FATHER HART The cross will keep all harm out of the house While it hangs there. MAURTEEN BRUIN Come, sit beside me, colleen, And put away your dreams of discontent, For I would have you light up my last days Like the good glow of the turf, and when I die I will make you the wealthiest hereabout: For hid away where nobody can find I have a stocking full of yellow guineas. BRIDGET BRUIN You are the fool of every pretty face, And I must pinch and pare that my son's wife May have all kinds of ribbons for her head. MAURTEEN BRUIN Do not be cross; she is a right good girl! The butter is by your elbow, Father Hart. My colleen, have not Fate and Time and Change Done well for me and for old Bridget there? We have a hundred acres of good land, And sit beside each other at the fire, The wise priest of our parish to our right, And you and our dear son to left of us. To sit beside the board and drink good wine And watch the turf smoke coiling from the fire And feel content and wisdom in your heart, This is the best of life; when we are young We long to tread a way none trod before, But find the excellent old way through love And through the care of children to the hour For bidding Fate and Time and Change good-bye. (_A knock at the door._ MAIRE BRUIN _opens it and then takes a sod of turf out of the hearth in the tongs and goes out through the door._ SHAWN _follows her and meets her coming in._) SHAWN BRUIN What is it draws you to the chill o' the wood? There is a light among the stems of the trees That makes one shiver. MARIE BRUIN A little queer old man Made me a sign to show he wanted fire To light his pipe. BRIDGET BRUIN You've given milk and fire, Upon the unluckiest night of the year, and brought, For all you know, evil upon the house. Before you married you were idle and fine, And went about with ribbons on your head; And now--no, father, I will speak my mind, She is not a fitting wife for any man-- SHAWN BRUIN Be quiet, mother! MAURTEEN BRUIN You are much too cross! MARIE BRUIN What do I care if I have given this house, Where I must hear all day a bitter tongue, Into the power of faeries!