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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of In the Shadow of the Glen, by J. M. Synge
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: In the Shadow of the Glen
+
+Author: J. M. Synge
+
+Posting Date: November 7, 2008 [EBook #1618]
+Release Date: January, 1999
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE SHADOW OF THE GLEN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Judy Boss
+
+
+
+
+
+IN THE SHADOW OF THE GLEN
+
+A PLAY IN ONE ACT
+
+
+By J. M. Synge
+
+
+
+First performed at the Molesworth Hall, Dublin, October 8th, 1903.
+
+
+
+
+PERSONS
+
+     DAN BURKE (farmer and herd)... George Roberts
+     NORA BURKE (his wife)......... Maire Nic Shiubhlaigh
+     MICHEAL DARA (a young herd)... P. J. Kelly
+     A TRAMP....................... W. G. Fay
+
+
+
+
+IN THE SHADOW OF THE GLEN
+
+A PLAY IN ONE ACT
+
+
+SCENE.--{The last cottage at the head of a long glen in County Wicklow.
+
+Cottage kitchen; turf fire on the right; a bed near it against the wall
+with a body lying on it covered with a sheet. A door is at the other
+end of the room, with a low table near it, and stools, or wooden chairs.
+There are a couple of glasses on the table, and a bottle of whisky, as
+if for a wake, with two cups, a teapot, and a home-made cake. There is
+another small door near the bed. Nora Burke is moving about the room,
+settling a few things, and lighting candles on the table, looking now
+and then at the bed with an uneasy look. Some one knocks softly at the
+door. She takes up a stocking with money from the table and puts it in
+her pocket. Then she opens the door.}
+
+TRAMP {Outside.} Good evening to you, lady of the house.
+
+NORA
+
+Good evening, kindly stranger, it's a wild night, God help you, to be
+out in the rain falling.
+
+TRAMP It is, surely, and I walking to Brittas from the Aughrim fair.
+
+NORA Is it walking on your feet, stranger?
+
+TRAMP On my two feet, lady of the house, and when I saw the light below
+I thought maybe if you'd a sup of new milk and a quiet decent corner
+where a man could sleep {he looks in past her and sees the dead man.}
+The Lord have mercy on us all!
+
+NORA It doesn't matter anyway, stranger, come in out of the rain.
+
+TRAMP {Coming in slowly and going towards the bed.} Is it departed he
+is?
+
+NORA It is, stranger. He's after dying on me, God forgive him, and there
+I am now with a hundred sheep beyond on the hills, and no turf drawn for
+the winter.
+
+TRAMP {Looking closely at the dead man.} It's a queer look is on him for
+a man that's dead.
+
+NORA {Half-humorously.} He was always queer, stranger, and I suppose
+them that's queer and they living men will be queer bodies after.
+
+TRAMP Isn't it a great wonder you're letting him lie there, and he is
+not tidied, or laid out itself?
+
+NORA {Coming to the bed.} I was afeard, stranger, for he put a black
+curse on me this morning if I'ld touch his body the time he'ld die
+sudden, or let any one touch it except his sister only, and it's ten
+miles away she lives in the big glen over the hill.
+
+TRAMP {Looking at her and nodding slowly.} It's a queer story he
+wouldn't let his own wife touch him, and he dying quiet in his bed.
+
+NORA He was an old man, and an odd man, stranger, and it's always up on
+the hills he was thinking thoughts in the dark mist. {She pulls back a
+bit of the sheet.} Lay your hand on him now, and tell me if it's cold he
+is surely.
+
+TRAMP Is it getting the curse on me you'ld be, woman of the house? I
+wouldn't lay my hand on him for the Lough Nahanagan and it filled with
+gold.
+
+NORA {Looking uneasily at the body.} Maybe cold would be no sign of
+death with the like of him, for he was always cold, every day since I
+knew him,--and every night, stranger,--{she covers up his face and comes
+away from the bed}; but I'm thinking it's dead he is surely, for he's
+complaining a while back of a pain in his heart, and this morning, the
+time he was going off to Brittas for three days or four, he was taken
+with a sharp turn. Then he went into his bed and he was saying it was
+destroyed he was, the time the shadow was going up through the glen, and
+when the sun set on the bog beyond he made a great lep, and let a great
+cry out of him, and stiffened himself out the like of a dead sheep.
+
+TRAMP {Crosses himself.} God rest his soul.
+
+NORA {Pouring him out a glass of whisky.} Maybe that would do you better
+than the milk of the sweetest cow in County Wicklow.
+
+TRAMP The Almighty God reward you, and may it be to your good health.
+{He drinks.}
+
+NORA {Giving him a pipe and tobacco.} I've no pipes saving his own,
+stranger, but they're sweet pipes to smoke.
+
+TRAMP Thank you kindly, lady of the house.
+
+NORA Sit down now, stranger, and be taking your rest.
+
+TRAMP {Filling a pipe and looking about the room.} I've walked a great
+way through the world, lady of the house, and seen great wonders, but I
+never seen a wake till this day with fine spirits, and good tobacco, and
+the best of pipes, and no one to taste them but a woman only.
+
+NORA Didn't you hear me say it was only after dying on me he was when
+the sun went down, and how would I go out into the glen and tell the
+neighbours, and I a lone woman with no house near me?
+
+TRAMP {Drinking.} There's no offence, lady of the house?
+
+NORA No offence in life, stranger. How would the like of you, passing
+in the dark night, know the lonesome way I was with no house near me at
+all?
+
+TRAMP {Sitting down.} I knew rightly. {He lights his pipe so that there
+is a sharp light beneath his haggard face.} And I was thinking, and I
+coming in through the door, that it's many a lone woman would be afeard
+of the like of me in the dark night, in a place wouldn't be so lonesome
+as this place, where there aren't two living souls would see the little
+light you have shining from the glass.
+
+NORA {Slowly.} I'm thinking many would be afeard, but I never knew what
+way I'd be afeard of beggar or bishop or any man of you at all. {She
+looks towards the window and lowers her voice.} It's other things than
+the like of you, stranger, would make a person afeard.
+
+TRAMP {Looking round with a half-shudder.} It is surely, God help us
+all!
+
+NORA {Looking at him for a moment with curiosity.} You're saying that,
+stranger, as if you were easy afeard.
+
+TRAMP {Speaking mournfully.} Is it myself, lady of the house, that does
+be walking round in the long nights, and crossing the hills when the fog
+is on them, the time a little stick would seem as big as your arm, and
+a rabbit as big as a bay horse, and a stack of turf as big as a towering
+church in the city of Dublin? If myself was easily afeard, I'm telling
+you, it's long ago I'ld have been locked into the Richmond Asylum, or
+maybe have run up into the back hills with nothing on me but an old
+shirt, and been eaten with crows the like of Patch Darcy--the Lord have
+mercy on him--in the year that's gone.
+
+NORA {With interest.} You knew Darcy?
+
+TRAMP Wasn't I the last one heard his living voice in the whole world?
+
+NORA There were great stories of what was heard at that time, but would
+any one believe the things they do be saying in the glen?
+
+TRAMP It was no lie, lady of the house.... I was passing below on a dark
+night the like of this night, and the sheep were lying under the ditch
+and every one of them coughing, and choking, like an old man, with the
+great rain and the fog. Then I heard a thing talking--queer talk, you
+wouldn't believe at all, and you out of your dreams,--and "Merciful
+God," says I, "if I begin hearing the like of that voice out of the
+thick mist, I'm destroyed surely." Then I run, and I run, and I run,
+till I was below in Rathvanna. I got drunk that night, I got drunk
+in the morning, and drunk the day after,--I was coming from the races
+beyond--and the third day they found Darcy.... Then I knew it was
+himself I was after hearing, and I wasn't afeard any more.
+
+NORA {Speaking sorrowfully and slowly.} God spare Darcy, he'ld always
+look in here and he passing up or passing down, and it's very lonesome
+I was after him a long while {she looks over at the bed and lowers her
+voice, speaking very clearly,} and then I got happy again--if it's ever
+happy we are, stranger,--for I got used to being lonesome. {A short
+pause; then she stands up.}
+
+NORA Was there any one on the last bit of the road, stranger, and you
+coming from Aughrim?
+
+TRAMP There was a young man with a drift of mountain ewes, and he
+running after them this way and that.
+
+NORA {With a half-smile.} Far down, stranger?
+
+TRAMP A piece only.
+
+{She fills the kettle and puts it on the fire.}
+
+NORA Maybe, if you're not easy afeard, you'ld stay here a short while
+alone with himself.
+
+TRAMP I would surely. A man that's dead can do no hurt.
+
+NORA {Speaking with a sort of constraint.} I'm going a little back to
+the west, stranger, for himself would go there one night and another
+and whistle at that place, and then the young man you're after
+seeing--a kind of a farmer has come up from the sea to live in a cottage
+beyond--would walk round to see if there was a thing we'ld have to be
+done, and I'm wanting him this night, the way he can go down into the
+glen when the sun goes up and tell the people that himself is dead.
+
+TRAMP {Looking at the body in the sheet.} It's myself will go for him,
+lady of the house, and let you not be destroying yourself with the great
+rain.
+
+NORA You wouldn't find your way, stranger, for there's a small path
+only, and it running up between two sluigs where an ass and cart would
+be drowned. {She puts a shawl over her head.} Let you be making yourself
+easy, and saying a prayer for his soul, and it's not long I'll be coming
+again.
+
+TRAMP {Moving uneasily.} Maybe if you'd a piece of a grey thread and a
+sharp needle--there's great safety in a needle, lady of the house--I'ld
+be putting a little stitch here and there in my old coat, the time I'll
+be praying for his soul, and it going up naked to the saints of God.
+
+NORA {Takes a needle and thread from the front of her dress and gives
+it to him.} There's the needle, stranger, and I'm thinking you won't be
+lonesome, and you used to the back hills, for isn't a dead man itself
+more company than to be sitting alone, and hearing the winds crying, and
+you not knowing on what thing your mind would stay?
+
+TRAMP {Slowly.} It's true, surely, and the Lord have mercy on us all!
+
+{Nora goes out. The Tramp begins stitching one of the tags in his coat,
+saying the "De Profundis" under his breath. In an instant the sheet is
+drawn slowly down, and Dan Burke looks out. The Tramp moves uneasily,
+then looks up, and springs to his feet with a movement of terror.}
+
+DAN {With a hoarse voice.} Don't be afeard, stranger; a man that's dead
+can do no hurt.
+
+TRAMP {Trembling.} I meant no harm, your honour; and won't you leave me
+easy to be saying a little prayer for your soul?
+
+{A long whistle is heard outside.}
+
+DAN {Sitting up in his bed and speaking fiercely.} Ah, the devil mend
+her.... Do you hear that, stranger? Did ever you hear another woman
+could whistle the like of that with two fingers in her mouth? {He looks
+at the table hurriedly.} I'm destroyed with the drouth, and let you
+bring me a drop quickly before herself will come back.
+
+TRAMP {Doubtfully.} Is it not dead you are?
+
+DAN How would I be dead, and I as dry as a baked bone, stranger?
+
+TRAMP {Pouring out the whisky.} What will herself say if she smells the
+stuff on you, for I'm thinking it's not for nothing you're letting on to
+be dead?
+
+DAN It is not, stranger, but she won't be coming near me at all, and
+it's not long now I'll be letting on, for I've a cramp in my back, and
+my hip's asleep on me, and there's been the devil's own fly itching my
+nose. It's near dead I was wanting to sneeze, and you blathering about
+the rain, and Darcy {bitterly}--the devil choke him--and the towering
+church. {Crying out impatiently.} Give me that whisky. Would you have
+herself come back before I taste a drop at all?
+
+{Tramp gives him the glass.}
+
+DAN {After drinking.} Go over now to that cupboard, and bring me a black
+stick you'll see in the west corner by the wall.
+
+TRAMP {Taking a stick from the cupboard} Is it that?
+
+DAN It is, stranger; it's a long time I'm keeping that stick for I've a
+bad wife in the house.
+
+TRAMP {With a queer look.} Is it herself, master of the house, and she a
+grand woman to talk?
+
+DAN It's herself, surely, it's a bad wife she is--a bad wife for an old
+man, and I'm getting old, God help me, though I've an arm to me still.
+{He takes the stick in his hand.} Let you wait now a short while, and
+it's a great sight you'll see in this room in two hours or three. {He
+stops to listen.} Is that somebody above?
+
+TRAMP {Listening.} There's a voice speaking on the path.
+
+DAN Put that stick here in the bed and smooth the sheet the way it was
+lying. {He covers himself up hastily.} Be falling to sleep now and don't
+let on you know anything, or I'll be having your life. I wouldn't have
+told you at all but it's destroyed with the drouth I was.
+
+TRAMP {Covering his head.} Have no fear, master of the house. What is it
+I know of the like of you that I'ld be saying a word or putting out my
+hand to stay you at all?
+
+{He goes back to the fire, sits down on a stool with his back to the bed
+and goes on stitching his coat.}
+
+DAN {Under the sheet, querulously.} Stranger.
+
+TRAMP {Quickly.} Whisht, whisht. Be quiet I'm telling you, they're
+coming now at the door.
+
+{Nora comes in with Micheal Dara, a tall, innocent young man behind
+her.}
+
+NORA I wasn't long at all, stranger, for I met himself on the path.
+
+TRAMP You were middling long, lady of the house.
+
+NORA There was no sign from himself?
+
+TRAMP No sign at all, lady of the house.
+
+NORA {To Micheal.} Go over now and pull down the sheet, and look on
+himself, Micheal Dara, and you'll see it's the truth I'm telling you.
+
+MICHEAL I will not, Nora, I do be afeard of the dead.
+
+{He sits down on a stool next the table facing the tramp. Nora puts the
+kettle on a lower hook of the pot hooks, and piles turf under it.}
+
+NORA {Turning to Tramp.} Will you drink a sup of tea with myself and the
+young man, stranger, or {speaking more persuasively} will you go into
+the little room and stretch yourself a short while on the bed, I'm
+thinking it's destroyed you are walking the length of that way in the
+great rain.
+
+TRAMP Is it to go away and leave you, and you having a wake, lady of the
+house? I will not surely. {He takes a drink from his glass which he has
+beside him.} And it's none of your tea I'm asking either.
+
+{He goes on stitching. Nora makes the tea.}
+
+MICHEAL {After looking at the tramp rather scornfully for a moment.}
+That's a poor coat you have, God help you, and I'm thinking it's a poor
+tailor you are with it.
+
+TRAMP If it's a poor tailor I am, I'm thinking it's a poor herd does be
+running back and forward after a little handful of ewes the way I seen
+yourself running this day, young fellow, and you coming from the fair.
+
+{Nora comes back to the table.}
+
+NORA {To Micheal in a low voice.} Let you not mind him at all, Micheal
+Dara, he has a drop taken and it's soon he'll be falling asleep.
+
+MICHEAL It's no lie he's telling, I was destroyed surely. They were that
+wilful they were running off into one man's bit of oats, and another
+man's bit of hay, and tumbling into the red bogs till it's more like a
+pack of old goats than sheep they were. Mountain ewes is a queer breed,
+Nora Burke, and I'm not used to them at all.
+
+NORA {Settling the tea things.} There's no one can drive a mountain ewe
+but the men do be reared in the Glen Malure, I've heard them say, and
+above by Rathvanna, and the Glen Imaal, men the like of Patch Darcy, God
+spare his soul, who would walk through five hundred sheep and miss one
+of them, and he not reckoning them at all.
+
+MICHEAL {Uneasily.} Is it the man went queer in his head the year that's
+gone?
+
+NORA It is surely.
+
+TRAMP {Plaintively.} That was a great man, young fellow, a great man I'm
+telling you. There was never a lamb from his own ewes he wouldn't know
+before it was marked, and he'ld run from this to the city of Dublin and
+never catch for his breath.
+
+NORA {Turning round quickly.} He was a great man surely, stranger, and
+isn't it a grand thing when you hear a living man saying a good word of
+a dead man, and he mad dying?
+
+TRAMP It's the truth I'm saying, God spare his soul.
+
+{He puts the needle under the collar of his coat, and settles himself
+to sleep in the chimney-corner. Nora sits down at the table; their backs
+are turned to the bed.}
+
+MICHEAL {Looking at her with a queer look.} I heard tell this day, Nora
+Burke, that it was on the path below Patch Darcy would be passing up and
+passing down, and I heard them say he'ld never past it night or morning
+without speaking with yourself.
+
+NORA {In a low voice.} It was no lie you heard, Micheal Dara.
+
+MICHEAL I'm thinking it's a power of men you're after knowing if it's in
+a lonesome place you live itself.
+
+NORA {Giving him his tea.} It's in a lonesome place you do have to be
+talking with some one, and looking for some one, in the evening of the
+day, and if it's a power of men I'm after knowing they were fine men,
+for I was a hard child to please, and a hard girl to please {she looks
+at him a little sternly}, and it's a hard woman I am to please this day,
+Micheal Dara, and it's no lie I'm telling you.
+
+MICHEAL {Looking over to see that the tramp is asleep, and then pointing
+to the dead man.} Was it a hard woman to please you were when you took
+himself for your man?
+
+NORA What way would I live and I an old woman if I didn't marry a man
+with a bit of a farm, and cows on it, and sheep on the back hills?
+
+MICHEAL {Considering.} That's true, Nora, and maybe it's no fool you
+were, for there's good grazing on it, if it is a lonesome place, and I'm
+thinking it's a good sum he's left behind. 28
+
+NORA {Taking the stocking with money from her pocket, and putting it on
+the table.} I do be thinking in the long nights it was a big fool I was
+that time, Micheal Dara, for what good is a bit of a farm with cows on
+it, and sheep on the back hills, when you do be sitting looking out from
+a door the like of that door, and seeing nothing but the mists rolling
+down the bog, and the mists again, and they rolling up the bog, and
+hearing nothing but the wind crying out in the bits of broken trees were
+left from the great storm, and the streams roaring with the rain.
+
+MICHEAL {Looking at her uneasily.} What is it ails you, this night, Nora
+Burke? I've heard tell it's the like of that talk you do hear from men,
+and they after being a great while on the back hills.
+
+NORA {Putting out the money on the table.} It's a bad night, and a wild
+night, Micheal Dara, and isn't it a great while I am at the foot of the
+back hills, sitting up here boiling food for himself, and food for the
+brood sow, and baking a cake when the night falls? {She puts up the
+money, listlessly, in little piles on the table.} Isn't it a long while
+I am sitting here in the winter and the summer, and the fine spring,
+with the young growing behind me and the old passing, saying to myself
+one time, to look on Mary Brien who wasn't that height {holding out
+her hand}, and I a fine girl growing up, and there she is now with
+two children, and another coming on her in three months or four. {She
+pauses.}
+
+MICHEAL {Moving over three of the piles.} That's three pounds we have
+now, Nora Burke.
+
+NORA {Continuing in the same voice.} And saying to myself another time,
+to look on Peggy Cavanagh, who had the lightest hand at milking a cow
+that wouldn't be easy, or turning a cake, and there she is now walking
+round on the roads, or sitting in a dirty old house, with no teeth in
+her mouth, and no sense and no more hair than you'ld see on a bit of a
+hill and they after burning the furze from it.
+
+MICHEAL That's five pounds and ten notes, a good sum, surely!... It's
+not that way you'll be talking when you marry a young man, Nora Burke,
+and they were saying in the fair my lambs were the best lambs, and I got
+a grand price, for I'm no fool now at making a bargain when my lambs are
+good.
+
+NORA What was it you got?
+
+MICHEAL Twenty pound for the lot, Nora Burke.... We'ld do right to wait
+now till himself will be quiet awhile in the Seven Churches, and then
+you'll marry me in the chapel of Rathvanna, and I'll bring the sheep up
+on the bit of a hill you have on the back mountain, and we won't have
+anything we'ld be afeard to let our minds on when the mist is down.
+
+NORA {Pouring him out some whisky.} Why would I marry you, Mike Dara?
+You'll be getting old and I'll be getting old, and in a little while
+I'm telling you, you'll be sitting up in your bed--the way himself was
+sitting--with a shake in your face, and your teeth falling, and the
+white hair sticking out round you like an old bush where sheep do be
+leaping a gap.
+
+{Dan Burke sits up noiselessly from under the sheet, with his hand to
+his face. His white hair is sticking out round his head.}
+
+NORA {Goes on slowly without hearing him.} It's a pitiful thing to be
+getting old, but it's a queer thing surely. It's a queer thing to see
+an old man sitting up there in his bed with no teeth in him, and a rough
+word in his mouth, and his chin the way it would take the bark from the
+edge of an oak board you'ld have building a door.... God forgive me,
+Micheal Dara, we'll all be getting old, but it's a queer thing surely.
+
+MICHEAL It's too lonesome you are from living a long time with an old
+man, Nora, and you're talking again like a herd that would be coming
+down from the thick mist {he puts his arm round her}, but it's a fine
+life you'll have now with a young man, a fine life surely....
+
+{Dan sneezes violently. Micheal tries to get to the door, but before
+he can do so, Dan jumps out of the bed in queer white clothes, with his
+stick in his hand, and goes over and puts his back against it.}
+
+MICHEAL Son of God deliver us.
+
+{Crosses himself, and goes backward across the room.}
+
+DAN {Holding up his hand at him.} Now you'll not marry her the time I'm
+rotting below in the Seven Churches, and you'll see the thing I'll give
+you will follow you on the back mountains when the wind is high.
+
+MICHEAL {To Nora.} Get me out of it, Nora, for the love of God. He
+always did what you bid him, and I'm thinking he would do it now.
+
+NORA {Looking at the Tramp.} Is it dead he is or living?
+
+DAN {Turning towards her.} It's little you care if it's dead or living I
+am, but there'll be an end now of your fine times, and all the talk you
+have of young men and old men, and of the mist coming up or going down.
+{He opens the door.} You'll walk out now from that door, Nora Burke,
+and it's not to-morrow, or the next day, or any day of your life, that
+you'll put in your foot through it again.
+
+TRAMP {Standing up.} It's a hard thing you're saying for an old man,
+master of the house, and what would the like of her do if you put her
+out on the roads?
+
+DAN Let her walk round the like of Peggy Cavanagh below, and be begging
+money at the cross-road, or selling songs to the men. {To Nora.} Walk
+out now, Nora Burke, and it's soon you'll be getting old with that life,
+I'm telling you; it's soon your teeth'll be falling and your head'll be
+the like of a bush where sheep do be leaping a gap.
+
+{He pauses: she looks round at Micheal.}
+
+MICHEAL {Timidly.} There's a fine Union below in Rathdrum.
+
+DAN The like of her would never go there.... It's lonesome roads she'll
+be going and hiding herself away till the end will come, and they
+find her stretched like a dead sheep with the frost on her, or the big
+spiders, maybe, and they putting their webs on her, in the butt of a
+ditch.
+
+NORA {Angrily.} What way will yourself be that day, Daniel Burke? What
+way will you be that day and you lying down a long while in your grave?
+For it's bad you are living, and it's bad you'll be when you're dead.
+{She looks at him a moment fiercely, then half turns away and speaks
+plaintively again.} Yet, if it is itself, Daniel Burke, who can help it
+at all, and let you be getting up into your bed, and not be taking your
+death with the wind blowing on you, and the rain with it, and you half
+in your skin.
+
+DAN It's proud and happy you'ld be if I was getting my death the day I
+was shut of yourself. {Pointing to the door.} Let you walk out through
+that door, I'm telling you, and let you not be passing this way if it's
+hungry you are, or wanting a bed.
+
+TRAMP {Pointing to Micheal.} Maybe himself would take her.
+
+NORA What would he do with me now?
+
+TRAMP Give you the half of a dry bed, and good food in your mouth.
+
+DAN Is it a fool you think him, stranger, or is it a fool you were born
+yourself? Let her walk out of that door, and let you go along with
+her, stranger--if it's raining itself--for it's too much talk you have
+surely.
+
+TRAMP {Going over to Nora.} We'll be going now, lady of the house--the
+rain is falling, but the air is kind and maybe it'll be a grand morning
+by the grace of God.
+
+NORA What good is a grand morning when I'm destroyed surely, and I going
+out to get my death walking the roads?
+
+TRAMP You'll not be getting your death with myself, lady of the house,
+and I knowing all the ways a man can put food in his mouth.... We'll be
+going now, I'm telling you, and the time you'll be feeling the cold,
+and the frost, and the great rain, and the sun again, and the south wind
+blowing in the glens, you'll not be sitting up on a wet ditch, the way
+you're after sitting in the place, making yourself old with looking
+on each day, and it passing you by. You'll be saying one time, "It's
+a grand evening, by the grace of God," and another time, "It's a wild
+night, God help us, but it'll pass surely." You'll be saying--
+
+DAN {Goes over to them crying out impatiently.} Go out of that door, I'm
+telling you, and do your blathering below in the glen.
+
+{Nora gathers a few things into her shawl.}
+
+TRAMP {At the door.} Come along with me now, lady of the house, and it's
+not my blather you'll be hearing only, but you'll be hearing the herons
+crying out over the black lakes, and you'll be hearing the grouse and
+the owls with them, and the larks and the big thrushes when the days
+are warm, and it's not from the like of them you'll be hearing a talk
+of getting old like Peggy Cavanagh, and losing the hair off you, and the
+light of your eyes, but it's fine songs you'll be hearing when the sun
+goes up, and there'll be no old fellow wheezing, the like of a sick
+sheep, close to your ear.
+
+NORA I'm thinking it's myself will be wheezing that time with lying down
+under the Heavens when the night is cold; but you've a fine bit of talk,
+stranger, and it's with yourself I'll go.
+
+{She goes towards the door, then turns to Dan.} You think it's a grand
+thing you're after doing with your letting on to be dead, but what is it
+at all? What way would a woman live in a lonesome place the like of this
+place, and she not making a talk with the men passing? And what way
+will yourself live from this day, with none to care for you? What is it
+you'll have now but a black life, Daniel Burke, and it's not long I'm
+telling you, till you'll be lying again under that sheet, and you dead
+surely.
+
+{She goes out with the Tramp. Micheal is slinking after them, but Dan
+stops him.}
+
+DAN Sit down now and take a little taste of the stuff, Micheal Dara.
+There's a great drouth on me, and the night is young.
+
+MICHEAL {Coming back to the table.} And it's very dry I am, surely, with
+the fear of death you put on me, and I after driving mountain ewes since
+the turn of the day.
+
+DAN {Throwing away his stick.} I was thinking to strike you, Micheal
+Dara, but you're a quiet man, God help you, and I don't mind you at all.
+
+{He pours out two glasses of whisky, and gives one to Micheal.}
+
+DAN Your good health, Micheal Dara.
+
+MICHEAL God reward you, Daniel Burke, and may you have a long life, and
+a quiet life, and good health with it. {They drink.}
+
+CURTAIN.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's In the Shadow of the Glen, by J. M. Synge
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