BRIAN
The season’s not so bad, after all.

CONN God help them that are depending on the land and the weather for the bit they put into their heads.  It’s no wonder that the people here are the sort they are, harassed, anxious people.

ANNE
The people here mind their own business, and they’re a friendly
people besides.

CONN
People that would leave the best fiddler at the fair to go and
look at a bullock.

ANNE
(to Brian) He’s not satisfied to have this shelter, Brian.

CONN (to Brian) I’m saying, Brian, that her mother had this shelter, and she left it to go the roads with myself.

ANNE That God may rest my mother.  It’s a pity she never lived to come back to the place.  But we ought to be praising grandmother night and day, for leaving this place to Maire.

CONN
Your grandmother did that as she did everything else.

ANNE (to Brian) Now, Brian, what would you do with a man that would say the like?

  Anne goes outside.

CONN (to Brian) It’s small blame to the girl here for thinking something of the place; but I saw the time, Brian MacConnell, when I could make more playing at one fair than working a whole season in this bit of a place.

BRIAN
Girls like the shelter, Conn.

CONN Ay, but the road for the fiddler.  I’m five years settled here, and I come to be as well known as the begging ass, and there is as much thought about me.  Fiddling, let me tell you, isn’t like a boy’s whistling.  It can’t be kept up on nothing.

BRIAN
I understand that, Conn.

CONN
I’m getting that I can’t stand the talk you hear in houses,
wars and Parliaments, and the devil knows what ramais.

BRIAN
There’s still a welcome for the man of art, somewhere.

CONN
That somewhere’s getting further and further away, Brian.

BRIAN
You were not in the town last night?

CONN
I was not, Brian.  God help me, I spent the night my lone.

BRIAN
There’s Sligomen in the town.

CONN Is there, now?  It would be like our times to play for them. (Anne comes in with some peat) Anne, would you bring me down my spectacles?  They’re in the room, daughter. (Anne goes to room.  Conn turns to Brian eagerly) I suppose the Sligomen will be in Flynn’s.

BRIAN
They were there last night.

CONN Listen, Brian, I’ve a reason for not going to Flynn’s.  Would you believe it, Brian, Flynn spoke to me about the few shillings I owe him?

BRIAN
That was shabby of him.  He got a lot out of you in the way of
playing.

CONN It’s just like them.  Besides, Maire keeps us tight enough, and I often have to take treats from the men.  They’re drovers and rambling labourers and the like, though, as you say, they’ve the song and music, and the proper talk.  Listen, Brian, could you leave a few shillings on the dresser for me?