It might be in the end the
Almighty
is the best man for us all!
Yeats
NANNY.
He will not waken, I tell you. I held his hand in my own and it getting
cold as if you were pouring on it the coldest cold water, and no
running in his blood. He is gone sure enough and the life is gone out
of him.
ANDREW.
Maybe so, maybe so. It seems to me yesterday his cheeks were bloomy all
the while, and now he is as pale as wood ashes. Sure we all must come
to it at the last. Well, my white-headed darling, it is you were the
bush among us all, and you to be cut down in your prime. Gentle and
simple, everyone liked you. It is no narrow heart you had, it is you
were for spending and not for getting. It is you made a good wake for
yourself, scattering your estate in one night only in beer and in wine
for the whole province; and that you may be sitting in the middle of
Paradise and in the chair of the Graces!
JOHNNY.
Amen to that. It's pity I didn't think the time I sent for yourself to
send the little lad of a messenger looking for a priest to overtake
him.
It might be in the end the Almighty is the best man for us all!
ANDREW.
Sure I sent him on myself to bid the priest to come. Living or dead I
would wish to do all that is rightful for the last and the best of my
own race and generation.
BIDDY [_jumping up_].
Is it the priest you are bringing in among us? Where is the sense
in that? Aren't we robbed enough up to this with the expense of the
candles and the like?
JOHNNY.
If it is that poor starved priest he called to that came talking in
secret signs to the man that is gone, it is likely he will ask nothing
for what he has to do. There is many a priest is a Whiteboy in his
heart.
NANNY.
I tell you, if you brought him tied in a bag he would not say an Our
Father for you, without you having a half-crown at the top of your
fingers.
BIDDY.
There is no priest is any good at all but a spoiled priest. A one that
would take a drop of drink, it is he would have courage to face the
hosts of trouble.