Maire clasps Anne’s hands passionately.

MAIRE
(with cry) Anne, daughter, I’ll be very lonesome for you.

ANNE
But sure I won’t be far off, Maire.

MAIRE
Ay, but it’s terrible to face things alone.

James has come to the door.  Conn and James have been talking.  They turn in.

CONN
But I’ll be glad enough to have the scythe in my hands after it
all, James.

JAMES
Anne was telling me how you took the victory from Connaught.

CONN
Still I’m sorry for him!  That poor Heffernan!  He’ll never hold
up his head again.

JAMES
Sure I’d have it in a ballad that would be sung in his own town. 
It would be well worth putting into a ballad.

CONN
Well indeed, it would make a right good ballad, James.

JAMES
I’d like to make a ballad about it, that would be sung all
over Connaught.

CONN And why wouldn’t you do it, James Moynihan?  Sure it would be the making of you.  It would be sung all over Ireland, and your name to it.  Do you hear that, Maire?  Do you hear that, Anne?

JAMES
I’m saying that I’d like to do a ballad about your father’s
victory.

CONN
Maybe you could have it this night week, James?  ANNE Will it be
a poem or a ballad, James?

  Anne goes to him.

CONN If you had it this night week, we could bring the boys to the place.  What do you say to that, Maire?  We’ll bring the boys here this night week to hear James Moynihan’s ballad.

MAIRE
I was thinking of the Feis at Ardagh.

CONN
The Feis at Ardagh?

MAIRE
Maybe you’ll be going to it this night week.

CONN
Sure you’re not joking with me, Maire?

MAIRE
No.

  She rises.

CONN
God forgive me, Maire, if I vexed you.

  Maire goes up to Conn’s room.

CONN
Anne, jewel, had Maire anything to say about Ardagh?

ANNE
We weren’t talking about that at all.

JAMES
Play me a rouse on the fiddle and maybe the ballad will come
into my head.

  Maire comes down, a fiddle in her hands.

MAIRE
Here’s the fiddle that was your favourite, the Granard fiddle.

CONN
And this is the fiddle I’ll bring with me to Ardagh.

ANNE
And is he going to Ardagh?

JAMES
And what about the ballad, Mister Hourican?

CONN
I leave it all to Maire now.  How well she bethought of the
Granard fiddle.

MAIRE
Father, we were always together.

  She hands him the fiddle.  Conn, Maire, James, Anne, are at table.

CURTAIN

ACT III