MICHAEL _to Mary._—Keep him quiet, and the rags tight on him for fear he’d screech. _(He goes back to their camp.)_ Hurry with the things, Sarah Casey. The peelers aren’t coming this way, and maybe we’ll get off from them now. [_They bundle the things together in wild haste, the priest wriggling and struggling about on the ground, with old Mary trying to keep him quiet._ MARY _patting his head._—Be quiet, your reverence. What is it ails you, with your wrigglings now? Is it choking maybe? _(She puts her hand under the sack, and feels his mouth, patting him on the back.)_ It’s only letting on you are, holy father, for your nose is blowing back and forward as easy as an east wind on an April day. _(In a soothing voice.)_ There now, holy father, let you stay easy, I’m telling you, and learn a little sense and patience, the way you’ll not be so airy again going to rob poor sinners of their scraps of gold. _(He gets quieter.)_ That’s a good boy you are now, your reverence, and let you not be uneasy, for we wouldn’t hurt you at all. It’s sick and sorry we are to tease you; but what did you want meddling with the like of us, when it’s a long time we are going our own ways—father and son, and his son after him, or mother and daughter, and her own daughter again—and it’s little need we ever had of going up into a church and swearing—I’m told there’s swearing with it—a word no man would believe, or with drawing rings on our fingers, would be cutting our skins maybe when we’d be taking the ass from the shafts, and pulling the straps the time they’d be slippy with going around beneath the heavens in rains falling. MICHAEL _who has finished bundling up the things, comes over to Sarah._—We’re fixed now; and I have a mind to run him in a boghole the way he’ll not be tattling to the peelers of our games to-day. SARAH You’d have a right too, I’m thinking. MARY _soothingly._—Let you not be rough with him, Sarah Casey, and he after drinking his sup of porter with us at the fall of night. Maybe he’d swear a mighty oath he wouldn’t harm us, and then we’d safer loose him; for if we went to drown him, they’d maybe hang the batch of us, man and child and woman, and the ass itself. MICHAEL What would he care for an oath? MARY Don’t you know his like do live in terror of the wrath of God? _(Putting her mouth to the Priest’s ear in the sacking.)_ Would you swear an oath, holy father, to leave us in our freedom, and not talk at all? _(Priest nods in sacking.)_ Didn’t I tell you? Look at the poor fellow nodding his head off in the bias of the sacks. Strip them off from him, and he’ll be easy now. MICHAEL _as if speaking to a horse._—Hold up, holy father. [_He pulls the sacking off, and shows the priest with his hair on end. They free his mouth._ MARY Hold him till he swears. PRIEST _in a faint voice._—I swear surely. If you let me go in peace, I’ll not inform against you or say a thing at all, and may God forgive me for giving heed unto your like to-day.