Page:Plays in Prose and Verse (1922).djvu/94

78. To cure the crippled.

. I am half ready now.

. There’s not a mischief I’d begrudge the King If it were any other——

. Hush! I am ready.

. That died to get it. I have brought out the food, And if my master will not eat of it, I'll home and get provision for his wake, For that’s no great way off. Well, have your say, But don’t be long about it.

[goes close to ]. Chief Poet of Ireland, I am the Mayor of your own town Kinvara, And I am come to tell you that the news Of this great trouble with the King of Gort Has plunged us in deep sorrow—part for you, Our honoured townsman, part for our good town.

[Begins to hesitate; scratching his head. But what comes now? Something about the King.

. Get on! get on! The food is all set out.

. Don’t hurry me.

. Give us a taste of it. He'll not begrudge it.

. Let them that have their limbs