Nestor: What is it you are talking about?
Nally: Not a house in the whole street but is deserted. It is much if the Magistrates themselves didn’t quit the bench for the pursuit, the way Tim Ward quitted the place he had a right to be!
Nestor: It is some curse in the air, or some scourge?
Nally: Birds they are getting by the score! Old and young! Where is the bird-buyer? Who is it now will give me my price?
(He holds up the cage.)
Cooney: There is surely some root for all this. There must be some buyer after all. It’s to keep him to themselves they are wanting. (Goes to door.) But I’ll get my own profit in spite of them.
(He goes outside door, looking up and down the street.)
Mrs. Broderick: Look at what Tommy Nally has. That’s my bird.
Nally: It is not, it’s my own!
Mrs. Broderick: That is my cage!