Old Woman. Come here beside me and I'll tell you about them. [Michael sits down beside her at the hearth.] There was a red man of the O'Donnells from the north, and a man of the O'Sullivans from the south, and there was one Brian that lost his life at Clontarf by the sea, and there were a great many in the west, some that died hundreds of years ago, and there are some that will die to-morrow.
Michael. Is it in the west that men will die to-morrow?
Old Woman. Come nearer, nearer to me.
Bridget. Is she right, do you think? Or is she a woman from beyond the world?
Peter. She doesn't know well what she's talking about, with the want and the trouble she has gone through.
Bridget. The poor thing, we should treat her well.
Peter. Give her a drink of milk and a bit of the oaten cake.
Bridget. Maybe we should give her something along with that, to bring her on her way. A few pence, or a shilling itself, and we with so much money in the house.
Peter. Indeed I'd not begrudge it to her if we had it to spare, but if we go running through what we have, we'll soon have to break the hundred pounds, and that would be a pity.
Bridget. Shame on you, Peter. Give her the shilling, and your blessing with it, or our own luck will go from us.