Bridget. Oh, a good wife only believes what her husband tells her!
Wise M. But sometimes, when you are alone, when I am in the school and the children asleep, do you not think about the saints, about the things you used to believe in? What do you think of when you are alone?
Bridget [considering]. I think about nothing. Sometimes I wonder if the linen is bleaching white, or I go out to see if the cows are picking up the chickens' food.
Wise M. Oh, what can I do! Is there nobody who believes he can never die? I must go and find somebody! [He goes towards the door, but stops with his eyes fixed on the hour-glass.] I cannot go out; I cannot leave that; go and call my pupils again—I will make them understand—I will say to them that only amid spiritual terror, or only when all that laid hold on life is shaken can we see truth—but no, do not call them, they would answer as I have bid.
Bridget. You want somebody to get up an argument with.
Wise M. Oh, look out of the door and tell me if there is anybody there in the street! I cannot leave this glass; somebody might shake it! Then the sand would fall more quickly.
Bridget. I don't understand what you are saying. [Looks out.] There is a great crowd of people talking to your pupils.
Wise M. Oh, run out, Bridget, and see if they have found somebody that all the time while I was teaching understood nothing or did not listen.
Bridget [wiping her arms in her apron and pulling down her sleeves]. It's a hard thing to be married to a man of learning that must be always having arguments. [Goes out and shouts through the kitchen door.] Don't be meddling with the bread, children, while I'm out.
Wise M. [kneels down]. "Confiteor Deo omnipotente beatæ Mariæ...." I have forgotten it all. It is thirty years since I have said a prayer. I must pray in the common tongue, like a clown begging in the market, like Teigue the Fool! [He prays.] Help me, Father, Son, and Spirit!