THE WELL OF THE SAINTS
A Comedy in Three Acts
By J. M. Synge
Contents
| THE WELL OF THE SAINTS |
| ACT I |
| ACT II |
| ACT III |
Scene: Some lonely mountainous district in the east of Ireland one or morecenturies ago.
THE WELL OF THE SAINTS was first produced in the Abbey Theatre in February,1905, by the Irish National Theatre Society, under the direction of W. G. Fay,and with the following cast.
Martin Doul W. G. FAY Mary Doul EMMA VERNON Timmy GEORGE ROBERTS Molly Byrne SARA ALLGOOD Bride MAIRE NIC SHIUBHLAIGH Mat Simon P. MAC SHIUBHLAIGH The Saint F. J. FAY OTHER GIRLS AND MEN
Persons in the Play
MARTIN DOUL, weather-beaten, blind beggar
MARY DOUL, his wife, weather-beaten, ugly woman, blind also, nearly fifty
TIMMY, a middle-aged, almost elderly, but vigorous smith
MOLLY BYRNE, fine-looking girl with fair hair
BRIDE, another handsome girl
MAT SIMON
THE SAINT, a wandering friar
OTHER GIRLS AND MEN
ACT I
[Roadside with big stones, etc., on the right; low loose wall at back withgap near centre; at left, ruined doorway of church with bushes beside it.Martin Doul and Mary Doul grope in on left and pass over to stones on right,where they sit.]
MARY DOUL.
What place are we now, Martin Doul?
MARTIN DOUL.
Passing the gap.
MARY DOUL.
raising her head. — The length of that! Well, the sun’sgetting warm this day if it’s late autumn itself.
MARTIN DOUL.
putting out his hands in sun. — What way wouldn’t it be warmand it getting high up in the south? You were that length plaiting your yellowhair you have the morning lost on us, and the people are after passing to thefair of Clash.
MARY DOUL.
It isn’t going to the fair, the time they do be driving their cattle andthey with a litter of pigs maybe squealing in their carts, they’d give usa thing at all. (She sits down.) It’s well you know that, but youmust be talking.
MARTIN DOUL.
sitting down beside her and beginning to shred rushes she gives him.— If I didn’t talk I’d be destroyed in a short whilelistening to the clack you do be making, for you’ve a queer crackedvoice, the Lord have mercy on you, if it’s fine to look on you areitself.
MARY DOUL.
Who wouldn’t have a cracked voice sitting out all the year in the rainfalling? It’s a bad life for the voice, Martin Doul, though I’veheard tell there isn’t anything like the wet south wind does be blowingupon us for keeping a white beautiful skin — the like of my skin —on your neck and on your brows, and there isn’t anything at all like afine skin for putting splendour on a woman.
MARTIN DOUL.
teasingly, but with good humour. — I do be thinking odd times wedon’t know rightly what way you have your splendour, or asking myself,maybe, if you have it at all, for the time I was a young lad, and had finesight, it was the ones with sweet voices were the best in face