why you'd be worse than another, Christy Mahon, and you a fine lad with the great savagery to destroy your da.
CHRISTY.
It's little I'm understanding myself, saving only that my heart's scalded this day, and I going off stretching out the earth between us, the way I'll not be waking near you another dawn of the year till the two of us do arise to hope or judgment with the saints of God, and now I'd best be going with my wattle in my hand, for hanging is a poor thing (turning to go), and it's little welcome only is left me in this house to-day.
PEGEEN, sharply.
Christy. (He turns round.) Come here to me. (He goes towards her.) Lay down that switch and throw some sods on the fire. You're pot-boy in this place, and I'll not have you mitch off from us now.
CHRISTY.
You were saying I'd be hanged if I stay.
PEGEEN, quite kindly at last.
I'm after going down and reading the fearful crimes of Ireland for two weeks or three, and
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