What place are we now , Martin Doul ? It is n't going to the fair , the time they do be driving their cattle and they with a litter of pigs maybe squealing in their carts , they 'd give us a thing at all .It 's well you know that , but you must be talking . Who would n't have a cracked voice sitting out all the year in the rain falling ? It 's a bad life for the voice , Martin Doul , though I 've heard tell there is n't anything like the wet south wind does be blowing upon us for keeping a white beautiful skin — the like of my skin — on your neck and on your brows , and there is n't anything at all like a fine skin for putting splendour on a woman . Let you not be making the like of that talk when you 've heard Timmy the smith , and Mat Simon , and Patch Ruadh , and a power besides saying fine things of my face , and you know rightly it was “ the beautiful dark woman ” they did call me in Ballinatone . Ay , jealous , Martin Doul ; and if she was n't itself , the young and silly do be always making game of them that 's dark , and they 'd think it a fine thing if they had us deceived , the way we would n't know we were so fine-looking at all . If you were n't a big fool you would n't heed them this hour , Martin Doul , for they 're a bad lot those that have their sight , and they do have great joy , the time they do be seeing a grand thing , to let on they do n't see it at all , and to be telling fool 's lies , the like of what Molly Byrne was telling to yourself . I 'm not the like of the girls do be running round on the roads , swinging their legs , and they with their necks out looking on the men .... Ah , there 's a power of villainy walking the world , Martin Doul , among them that do be gadding around with their gaping eyes , and their sweet words , and they with no sense in them at all . You 'd be as bad as the rest of them if you had your sight , and I did well , surely , not to marry a seeing man it 's scores would have had me and welcome — for the seeing is a queer lot , and you 'd never know the thing they 'd do . Let you put the pith away out of their sight , or they 'll be picking it out with the spying eyes they have , and saying it 's rich we are , and not sparing us a thing at all . Well you 've queer hum-bugging talk .... What way would I see a power hanged , and I a dark woman since the seventh year of my age ? I 've heard people have walked round from the west and they speaking of that . Maybe we could send us a young lad to bring us the water . I could wash a naggin bottle in the morning , and I 'm thinking Patch Ruadh would go for it , if we gave him a good drink , and the bit of money we have hid in the thatch . Then tell us your wonder , Timmy .... What person 'll bring it at all ? You 'd know , I 'm thinking , by the little silvery voice of it , a fasting holy man was after carrying it a great way at his side . I 'm thinking it 's a poor thing when the Lord God gives you sight and puts the like of that man in your way . I would n't rear a crumpled whelp the like of you . It 's many a woman is married with finer than yourself should be praising God if she 's no child , and is n't loading the earth with things would make the heavens lonesome above , and they scaring the larks , and the crows , and the angels passing in the sky . Let the two of you not torment me at all . It 's them that 's fat and flabby do be wrinkled young , and that whitish yellowy hair she has does be soon turning the like of a handful of thin grass you 'd see rotting , where the wet lies , at the north of a sty .Ah , it 's a better thing to have a simple , seemly face , the like of my face , for two-score years , or fifty itself , than to be setting fools mad a short while , and then to be turning a thing would drive off the little children from your feet . There 's a sweet tone in your voice I 've not heard for a space . You 're taking me for Molly Byrne , I 'm thinking . You 'll be grand then , and it 's no lie . If I am I 'm bearing in mind I 'm married to a little dark stump of a fellow looks the fool of the world , and I 'll be bearing in mind from this day the great hullabuloo he 's after making from hearing a poor woman breathing quiet in her place . I 'm minding that surely , for if I 'm not the way the liars were saying below I seen a thing in them pools put joy and blessing in my heart . I would not , Martin .For when I seen myself in them pools , I seen my hair would be gray or white , maybe , in a short while , and I seen with it that I 'd a face would be a great wonder when it 'll have soft white hair falling around it , the way when I 'm an old woman there wo n't be the like of me surely in the seven counties of the east . I can n't help your looks , Martin Doul . It was n't myself made you with your rat 's eyes , and your big ears , and your griseldy chin . Your slouching feet , is it ? Or your hooky neck , or your two knees is black with knocking one on the other ? There 's the sound of one of them twittering yellow birds do be coming in the spring-time from beyond the sea , and there 'll be a fine warmth now in the sun , and a sweetness in the air , the way it 'll be a grand thing to be sitting here quiet and easy smelling the things growing up , and budding from the earth . It 's not the churches , for the wind 's blowing from the sea . The Lord protect us from the saints of God ! He 's coming this road , surely . What place would we run ? Would we have a right to be crawling in below under the sticks ? Could we hide in the bit of a briar is growing at the west butt of the church ? It 's the words of the young girls making a great stir in the trees .Here 's the briar on my left , Martin ; I 'll go in first , I 'm the big one , and I 'm easy to see . Let you not be whispering sin , Martin Doul , or maybe it 's the finger of God they 'd see pointing to ourselves . If it is you 'd have a right to speak a big , terrible word would make the water not cure us at all . They 're coming . I hear their feet on the stones .