I will shut the door, for this wind out of the sea gets into my bones, and if I leave but an inch for the wind there is one like a flake of sea-frost that might come into the house.
FINTAIN.
What is his name, fool?
BARACH.
It’s a woman from among the Riders of the Sidhe. It’s Boann herself from the river. She has left the Dagda’s bed, and gone through the salt of the sea & up here to the strand of Baile, and all for love of me. Let her keep her husband’s bed, for she’ll have none of me. Nobody knows how lecherous these goddesses are. I see her in every kind of shape but oftener than not she’s in the wind and cries ‘give a kiss and put your arms about me.’ But no, she’ll have no more of me. Yesterday when I put out my lips to kiss her, there was nothing there but the wind. She’s bad, Fintain. O, she’s bad. I had better shut the big door too. (He is going towards the big door but turns hearing Fintain’s voice.)
FINTAIN.
(Who has been feeling about with his stick.) What’s this and this?
BARACH.
They are chairs.
FINTAIN.