What is that ugly thing on the black cross?

FATHER HART.

You cannot know how naughty your words are! 
That is Our Blessed Lord!

THE CHILD.

Hide it away!

BRIDGET BRUIN.

I have begun to be afraid again!

THE CHILD.

Hide it away!

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

That would be wickedness!

BRIDGET BRUIN.

That would be sacrilege!

THE CHILD

The tortured thing! 
Hide it away.

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

Her parents are to blame.

FATHER HART.

That is the image of the Son of God.

[The CHILD puts her arm round his neck lovingly and kisses him.

THE CHILD.

Hide it away!  Hide it away!

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

No! no!

FATHER HART.

Because you are so young and little a child
I will go take it down.

THE CHILD.

Hide it away,
And cover it out of sight and out of mind.

FATHER HART (takes it down and carries it towards the inner room).

Since you have come into this barony
I will instruct you in our blessed faith: 
Being a clever child you will soon learn.

(To the others.)

We must be tender with all budding things,
Our Maker let no thought of Calvary
Trouble the morning stars in their first song.

    [Puts the crucifix in the inner room.

THE CHILD.

O, what a nice, smooth floor to dance upon! 
The wind is blowing on the waving reeds,
The wind is blowing on the heart of man.

    [She dances, swaying about like the reeds.

MAIRE (to SHAWN BRUIN).

Just now when she came near I thought I heard
Other small steps beating upon the floor,
And a faint music blowing in the wind—­
Invisible pipes giving her feet the time.

SHAWN BRUIN.

I heard no step but hers.

MAIRE BRUIN.

Look to the bolt! 
Because the unholy powers are abroad.

MAURTEEN BRUIN (to the CHILD).

Come over here, and if you promise me
Not to talk wickedly of holy things
I’ll give you something.

THE CHILD.

Bring it me, old father!

    [MAURTEEN BRUIN goes into the next room.

FATHER HART.

I will have queen cakes when you come to me!

    [MAURTEEN BRUIN returns and lays a piece of money on the table.  The
    CHILD makes a gesture of refusal.

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

It will buy lots of toys; see how it glitters!

THE CHILD.

Come, tell me, do you love me?

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

I love you!

THE CHILD.

Ah! but you love this fireside!