SHAWN BRUIN
Be quiet, mother!
MAURTEEN BRUIN
You are much too cross!
MARIE BRUIN
What do I care if I have given this house,
Where I must hear all day a bitter tongue,
Into the power of faëries!
BRIDGET BRUIN
You know well
How calling the good people by that name
Or talking of them over much at all
May bring all kinds of evil on the house.
MARIE BRUIN
Come, faëries, take me out of this dull house!
Let me have all the freedom I have lost;
Work when I will and idle when I will!
Faëries, come take me out of this dull world,
For I would ride with you upon the wind,
Run on the top of the dishevelled tide,
And dance upon the mountains like a flame!
FATHER HART
You cannot know the meaning of your words.
MARIE BRUIN
Father, I am right weary of four tongues:
A tongue that is too crafty and too wise,
A tongue that is too godly and too grave,
A tongue that is more bitter than the tide,
And a kind tongue too full of drowsy love,
Of drowsy love and my captivity.
(SHAWN BRUIN comes over to her and leads her to the
settle.)
SHAWN BRUIN
Do not blame me: I often lie awake
Thinking that all things trouble your bright head—
How beautiful it is—such broad pale brows
Under a cloudy blossoming of hair!
Sit down beside me here—these are too old,
And have forgotten they were ever young.
MARIE BRUIN
Oh, you are the great door-post of this house,
And I, the red nasturtium, climbing up.