The Tinker's Wedding

SCENE: A Village roadside after nightfall. A fire of sticks is burning near the ditch a little to the right. Michael is working beside it. In the background, on the left, a sort of tent and ragged clothes drying on the hedge. On the right a chapel-gate.

SARAH CASEY _coming in on right, eagerly._—We’ll see his reverence this place, Michael Byrne, and he passing backward to his house to-night.

MICHAEL _grimly._—That’ll be a sacred and a sainted joy!

SARAH _sharply._—It’ll be small joy for yourself if you aren’t ready with my wedding ring. (She goes over to him.) Is it near done this time, or what way is it at all?

MICHAEL A poor way only, Sarah Casey, for it’s the divil’s job making a ring, and you’ll be having my hands destroyed in a short while the way I’ll not be able to make a tin can at all maybe at the dawn of day.

SARAH _sitting down beside him and throwing sticks on the fire._—If it’s the divil’s job, let you mind it, and leave your speeches that would choke a fool.

MICHAEL _slowly and glumly._—And it’s you’ll go talking of fools, Sarah Casey, when no man did ever hear a lying story even of your like unto this mortal day. You to be going beside me a great while, and rearing a lot of them, and then to be setting off with your talk of getting married, and your driving me to it, and I not asking it at all.

[_Sarah turns her back to him and arranges something in the ditch._

MICHAEL _angrily._—Can’t you speak a word when I’m asking what is it ails you since the moon did change?

SARAH _musingly._—I’m thinking there isn’t anything ails me, Michael Byrne; but the spring-time is a queer time, and it’s queer thoughts maybe I do think at whiles.

MICHAEL It’s hard set you’d be to think queerer than welcome, Sarah Casey; but what will you gain dragging me to the priest this night, I’m saying, when it’s new thoughts you’ll be thinking at the dawn of day?

SARAH _teasingly._—It’s at the dawn of day I do be thinking I’d have a right to be going off to the rich tinkers do be travelling from Tibradden to the Tara Hill; for it’d be a fine life to be driving with young Jaunting Jim, where there wouldn’t be any big hills to break the back of you, with walking up and walking down.

MICHAEL _with dismay._—It’s the like of that you do be thinking!

SARAH The like of that, Michael Byrne, when there is a bit of sun in it, and a kind air, and a great smell coming from the thorn-trees is above your head.

MICHAEL _looks at her for a moment with horror, and then hands her the ring._—Will that fit you now?

SARAH _trying it on._—It’s making it tight you are, and the edges sharp on the tin.

MICHAEL _looking at it carefully._—It’s the fat of your own finger, Sarah Casey; and isn’t it a mad thing I’m saying again that you’d be asking marriage of me, or making a talk of going away from me, and you thriving and getting your good health by the grace of the Almighty God?

SARAH _giving it back to him._—Fix it now, and it’ll do, if you’re wary you don’t squeeze it again.

MICHAEL _moodily, working again._—It’s easy saying be wary; there’s many things easy said, Sarah Casey, you’d wonder a fool even would be saying at all. (He starts violently.) The divil mend you, I’m scalded again!

SARAH _scornfully._—If you are, it’s a clumsy man you are this night, Michael Byrne (raising her voice); and let you make haste now, or herself will be coming with the porter.

MICHAEL _defiantly, raising his voice._—Let me make haste? I’ll be making haste maybe to hit you a great clout; for I’m thinking on the day I got you above at Rathvanna, and the way you began crying out and saying, “I’ll go back to my ma,” and I’m thinking on the way I came behind you that time, and hit you a great clout in the lug, and how quiet and easy it was you came along with me from that hour to this present day.

SARAH _standing up and throwing all her sticks into the fire._—And a big fool I was too, maybe; but we’ll be seeing Jaunting Jim to-morrow in Ballinaclash, and he after getting a great price for his white foal in the horse-fair of Wicklow, the way it’ll be a great sight to see him squandering his share of gold, and he with a grand eye for a fine horse, and a grand eye for a woman.

MICHAEL _working again with impatience._—The divil do him good with the two of them.

SARAH _kicking up the ashes with her foot._—Ah, he’s a great lad, I’m telling you, and it’s proud and happy I’ll be to see him, and he the first one called me the Beauty of Ballinacree, a fine name for a woman.

MICHAEL _with contempt._—It’s the like of that name they do be putting on the horses they have below racing in Arklow. It’s easy pleased you are, Sarah Casey, easy pleased with a big word, or the liar speaks it.

SARAH Liar!

MICHAEL Liar, surely.

SARAH _indignantly._—Liar, is it? Didn’t you ever hear tell of the peelers followed me ten miles along the Glen Malure, and they talking love to me in the dark night, or of the children you’ll meet coming from school and they saying one to the other, “It’s this day we seen Sarah Casey, the Beauty of Ballinacree, a great sight surely.”

MICHAEL God help the lot of them!

SARAH It’s yourself you’ll be calling God to help, in two weeks or three, when you’ll be waking up in the dark night and thinking you see me coming with the sun on me, and I driving a high cart with Jaunting Jim going behind. It’s lonesome and cold you’ll be feeling the ditch where you’ll be lying down that night, I’m telling you, and you hearing the old woman making a great noise in her sleep, and the bats squeaking in the trees.

MICHAEL Whist. I hear some one coming the road.

SARAH _looking out right._—It’s some one coming forward from the doctor’s door.

MICHAEL It’s often his reverence does be in there playing cards, or drinking a sup, or singing songs, until the dawn of day.

SARAH It’s a big boast of a man with a long step on him and a trumpeting voice. It’s his reverence surely; and if you have the ring done, it’s a great bargain we’ll make now and he after drinking his glass.

MICHAEL _going to her and giving her the ring._—There’s your ring, Sarah Casey; but I’m thinking he’ll walk by and not stop to speak with the like of us at all.

SARAH _tidying herself, in great excitement._—Let you be sitting here and keeping a great blaze, the way he can look on my face; and let you seem to be working, for it’s great love the like of him have to talk of work.

MICHAEL moodily, sitting down and _beginning to work at a tin can._—Great love surely.

SARAH _eagerly._—Make a great blaze now, Michael Byrne.

[_The priest comes in on right; she comes forward in front of him._

SARAH _in a very plausible voice._—Good evening, your reverence. It’s a grand fine night, by the grace of God.