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Mary Kate Danaher: Father, could I... tell you in the Irish?
Father Peter Lonergan, Narrator: [distracted, fishing] Sea, sea.
Mary Kate Danaher: [very hesitantly] Níor lig mé m'fhear chéile isteach i mo leaba liom aréir. Chuir mé fuinneamh air a chodladh i - Ó, i mála codlata! Mála codlata!
Father Peter Lonergan, Narrator: Céad é sin? "Bag?"
Mary Kate Danaher: Sleeping bag, Father, with... with buttons! Más breá é, níor rith sé ar a shon. An peaca é?
Father Peter Lonergan, Narrator: [exasperated] Woman, Ireland may be a poor country, God help us. But here, a married man sleeps in a bed, not a bag!
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Michaleen Flynn: I have... I have come.
Mary Kate Danaher: Oh, I can see that. But from whose pub was it?
Michaleen Flynn: Pub? Pub? You've the face of an angel with the tongue of an adder. I have a good mind to go about me own business and tell Thon Shorton he's better off without ya!
Mary Kate Danaher: Wait a minute, what was that?
Michaleen Flynn: Well ye be listenin' then and not interrupting the shockelhorn - the matchmaker... I have come at the request of Thon Shorton...
Mary Kate Danaher: Sean Thornton.
Michaleen Flynn: Shut up... bachelor and party of the first part, to ask if you, uh - strictly informally, mind you - eh, Mary Kate Danaher, spinster, and party of the second part.
Mary Kate Danaher: Well. Go on. You were sayin'?
Michaleen Flynn: Actually... me mouth is like a dry crust and the sun is that hot on me pate.
Mary Kate Danaher: Will you be steppin' into the parlor? The house may belong to my brother, but what's in the parlor belongs to me.
Michaleen Flynn: I will then... and I hope there's a bottle there, whoever it belongs to...
Jack MacGowran
Extended Reading
