CHRISTY. It’s little I’m understanding myself, saving only that my heart’s scalded this day, and I going off stretching out the earth between us, the way I’ll not be waking near you another dawn of the year till the two of us do arise to hope or judgment with the saints of God, and now I’d best be going with my wattle in my hand, for hanging is a poor thing (_turning to go_), and it’s little welcome only is left me in this house to-day. PEGEEN. _sharply._—Christy! (_He turns round._) Come here to me. (_He goes towards her._) Lay down that switch and throw some sods on the fire. You’re pot-boy in this place, and I’ll not have you mitch off from us now. CHRISTY. You were saying I’d be hanged if I stay. PEGEEN. _quite kindly at last._—I’m after going down and reading the fearful crimes of Ireland for two weeks or three, and there wasn’t a word of your murder. (_Getting up and going over to the counter._) They’ve likely not found the body. You’re safe so with ourselves. CHRISTY. _astonished, slowly._—It’s making game of me you were (_following her with fearful joy_), and I can stay so, working at your side, and I not lonesome from this mortal day. PEGEEN. What’s to hinder you from staying, except the widow woman or the young girls would inveigle you off? CHRISTY. _with rapture._—And I’ll have your words from this day filling my ears, and that look is come upon you meeting my two eyes, and I watching you loafing around in the warm sun, or rinsing your ankles when the night is come. PEGEEN. _kindly, but a little embarrassed._—I’m thinking you’ll be a loyal young lad to have working around, and if you vexed me a while since with your leaguing with the girls, I wouldn’t give a thraneen for a lad hadn’t a mighty spirit in him and a gamey heart. [_Shawn Keogh runs in carrying a cleeve on his back, followed by the Widow Quin._] SHAWN. _to Pegeen._—I was passing below, and I seen your mountainy sheep eating cabbages in Jimmy’s field. Run up or they’ll be bursting surely. PEGEEN. Oh, God mend them! [_She puts a shawl over her head and runs out._] CHRISTY. _looking from one to the other. Still in high spirits._—I’d best go to her aid maybe. I’m handy with ewes. WIDOW QUIN. _closing the door._—She can do that much, and there is Shaneen has long speeches for to tell you now. [_She sits down with an amused smile._] SHAWN. _taking something from his pocket and offering it to Christy._—Do you see that, mister? CHRISTY. _looking at it._—The half of a ticket to the Western States! SHAWN. _trembling with anxiety._—I’ll give it to you and my new hat (_pulling it out of hamper_); and my breeches with the double seat (_pulling it off_); and my new coat is woven from the blackest shearings for three miles around (_giving him the coat_); I’ll give you the whole of them, and my blessing, and the blessing of Father Reilly itself, maybe, if you’ll quit from this and leave us in the peace we had till last night at the fall of dark.