a bachelor, simmering in passions to the end of time, than face a lepping savage the like of him has descended from the Lord knows where. Strike him yourself, Michael James, or you'll lose my drift of heifers and my blue bull from Sneem.
MICHAEL.
Is it me fight him, when it's father-slaying he's bred to now? (Pushing Shawn.) Go on, you fool, and fight him now.
SHAWN, coming forward a little.
Will I strike him with my hand?
MICHAEL.
Take the loy is on your western side.
SHAWN.
I'd be afeard of the gallows if I struck with that.
CHRISTY, taking up the loy.
Then I'll make you face the gallows or quit off from this. (Shawn flies out of the door.)
CHRISTY.
Well, fine weather be after him, (going to Michael, coaxingly) and I'm thinking you wouldn't wish
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