PHILLY.
wisely.—You’re at some gaming, Widow Quin; but I’ll walk after him and give him his dinner and a time to rest, and I’ll see then if he’s raving or as sane as you.
WIDOW QUIN.
annoyed.—If you go near that lad, let you be wary of your head, I’m saying. Didn’t you hear him telling he was crazed at times?
PHILLY.
I heard him telling a power; and I’m thinking we’ll have right sport, before night will fall. [He goes out.]
JIMMY.
Well, Philly’s a conceited and foolish man. How could that madman have his senses and his brain-pan slit? I’ll go after them and see him turn on Philly now. [He goes; Widow Quin hides poteen behind counter. Then hubbub outside.]
VOICES.
There you are! Good jumper! Grand lepper! Darlint boy! He’s the racer! Bear him on, will you! [Christy comes in, in Jockey’s dress, with Pegeen Mike, Sara, and other girls and men.]
PEGEEN.
to crowd.—Go on now and don’t destroy him and he drenching with sweat. Go along, I’m saying, and have your tug-of-warring till he’s dried his skin.
CROWD.
Here’s his prizes! A bagpipes! A fiddle was played by a poet in the years gone by! A flat and three-thorned blackthorn would lick the scholars out of Dublin town!
CHRISTY.
taking prizes from the men.—Thank you kindly, the lot of you. But you’d say it was little only I did this day if you’d seen me a while since striking my one single blow.
TOWN CRIER.
outside, ringing a bell.—Take notice, last event of this day! Tug-of-warring on the green below! Come on, the lot of you! Great achievements for all Mayo men!
PEGEEN.
Go on, and leave him for to rest and dry. Go on, I tell you, for he’ll do no more. (She hustles crowd out; Widow Quin following them.)