PEGEEN. I wouldn’t wed him if a bishop came walking for to join us here. CHRISTY. That God in glory may be thanked for that. PEGEEN. There’s your bed now. I’ve put a quilt upon you I’m after quilting a while since with my own two hands, and you’d best stretch out now for your sleep, and may God give you a good rest till I call you in the morning when the cocks will crow. CHRISTY. _as she goes to inner room._—May God and Mary and St. Patrick bless you and reward you, for your kindly talk. (_She shuts the door behind her. He settles his bed slowly, feeling the quilt with immense satisfaction._)—Well, it’s a clean bed and soft with it, and it’s great luck and company I’ve won me in the end of time—two fine women fighting for the likes of me—till I’m thinking this night wasn’t I a foolish fellow not to kill my father in the years gone by. CURTAIN. ACT II. SCENE _as before. Brilliant morning light. Christy, looking bright and cheerful, is cleaning a girl’s boots._ CHRISTY. _to himself, counting jugs on dresser._—Half a hundred beyond. Ten there. A score that’s above. Eighty jugs. Six cups and a broken one. Two plates. A power of glasses. Bottles, a school-master’d be hard set to count, and enough in them, I’m thinking, to drunken all the wealth and wisdom of the County Clare. (_He puts down the boot carefully._) There’s her boots now, nice and decent for her evening use, and isn’t it grand brushes she has? (_He puts them down and goes by degrees to the looking-glass._) Well, this’d be a fine place to be my whole life talking out with swearing Christians, in place of my old dogs and cat, and I stalking around, smoking my pipe and drinking my fill, and never a day’s work but drawing a cork an odd time, or wiping a glass, or rinsing out a shiny tumbler for a decent man. (_He takes the looking-glass from the wall and puts it on the back of a chair; then sits down in front of it and begins washing his face._) Didn’t I know rightly I was handsome, though it was the divil’s own mirror we had beyond, would twist a squint across an angel’s brow; and I’ll be growing fine from this day, the way I’ll have a soft lovely skin on me and won’t be the like of the clumsy young fellows do be ploughing all times in the earth and dung. (_He starts._) Is she coming again? (_He looks out._) Stranger girls. God help me, where’ll I hide myself away and my long neck naked to the world? (_He looks out._) I’d best go to the room maybe till I’m dressed again. [_He gathers up his coat and the looking-glass, and runs into the inner room. The door is pushed open, and Susan Brady looks in, and knocks on door._] SUSAN. There’s nobody in it. [_Knocks again._] NELLY. _pushing her in and following her, with Honor Blake and Sara Tansey._—It’d be early for them both to be out walking the hill. SUSAN. I’m thinking Shawn Keogh was making game of us and there’s no such man in it at all.