MICHAEL
who has finished bundling up the things, comes over to Sarah.—We’re fixed now; and I have a mind to run him in a boghole the way he’ll not be tattling to the peelers of our games to-day.
SARAH
You’d have a right too, I’m thinking.
MARY
soothingly.—Let you not be rough with him, Sarah Casey, and he after drinking his sup of porter with us at the fall of night. Maybe he’d swear a mighty oath he wouldn’t harm us, and then we’d safer loose him; for if we went to drown him, they’d maybe hang the batch of us, man and child and woman, and the ass itself.
MICHAEL
What would he care for an oath?
MARY
Don’t you know his like do live in terror of the wrath of God? (Putting her mouth to the Priest’s ear in the sacking.) Would you swear an oath, holy father, to leave us in our freedom, and not talk at all? (Priest nods in sacking.) Didn’t I tell you? Look at the poor fellow nodding his head off in the bias of the sacks. Strip them off from him, and he’ll be easy now.
MICHAEL
as if speaking to a horse.—Hold up, holy father.
[He pulls the sacking off, and shows the priest with his hair on end. They free his mouth.
MARY
Hold him till he swears.
PRIEST
in a faint voice.—I swear surely. If you let me go in peace, I’ll not inform against you or say a thing at all, and may God forgive me for giving heed unto your like to-day.
SARAH
puts the ring on his finger.—There’s the ring, holy father, to keep you minding of your oath until the end of time; for my heart’s scalded with your fooling; and it’ll be a long day till I go making talk of marriage or the like of that.