CONN (to Brian) I'm saying, Brian, that her mother had this shelter, and she left it to go the roads with myself.
ANNE That God may rest my mother. It's a pity she never lived to come back to the place. But we ought to be praising grandmother night and day, for leaving this place to Maire.
CONN
Your grandmother did that as she did everything else.
ANNE (to Brian) Now, Brian, what would you do with a man that would say the like?
Anne goes outside.
CONN (to Brian) It's small blame to the girl here for thinking something of the place; but I saw the time, Brian MacConnell, when I could make more playing at one fair than working a whole season in this bit of a place.
BRIAN
Girls like the shelter, Conn.
CONN Ay, but the road for the fiddler. I'm five years settled here, and I come to be as well known as the begging ass, and there is as much thought about me. Fiddling, let me tell you, isn't like a boy's whistling. It can't be kept up on nothing.
BRIAN
I understand that, Conn.
CONN I'm getting that I can't stand the talk you hear in houses, wars and Parliaments, and the devil knows what ramais.