— This is a fine welcome into graveyard clay …
— By the docks, Master, don’t you remember I told you? Didn’t he die! …
— Ha! Where is he? …
— Now, Master, neighbour, calm down! Calm down! We were good neighbours above ground. Did I ever open a letter of yours? … Oh, Master dear, don’t lie! … Oh, Master, if that is so, I didn’t do it … The Postmistress could do whatever she pleased, but don’t accuse me of something I didn’t do, Master … Oh, that’s definitely a lie, Master! I didn’t give a letter of yours to anybody, I went straight to your house and handed it piping hot out of the bag into the palm of your hand. I’ll have you know, Master, it’s not every postman would do that! …
Oh, Master, Master, may God forgive you! It was not to see your wife that I came so promptly with the post. Oh, God forbid, Master, that such a thought would enter my mind! … Oh, Master, neighbour, don’t say that! Don’t tell a lie about her. She’s on the dark road of lies, and you’re on the bright road of truth …
Believe you me, Master, neighbour, I was very sorry about your death. You were a decent man to call in to. And you were worth listening to, Master. You had a fine flow of words about the affairs of life … Oh, Master, don’t say things like that! … Oh, Master! …
Not a day went by that I didn’t sympathise with herself on your death … Oh, my dear neighbour, will you for God’s sake stop that sort of talk! “It’s a great pity about the Big Master,” I used to say. “It’s not the same house at all, since he left. Believe me, Schoolmistress, I’m very sorry for you …”
… Patience, Master! Patience, Master! Can’t you listen to what I’m saying! “Billy the Post,” the poor thing used to say, “I know that. He was very fond of you …” … Aw! now, Master! Take it easy, Master! “I did my best for him, Billy, but he was beyond the doctors’ skill …” Oh, Master dear! My dear, dear Master! … “It’s like this, Billy, the Master was too good …”
… Aw! Master, don’t make a show of yourself in front of the neighbours! Remember, Master, you are the Sergeant-Major of learning, and you have to set a good example … Patience, Master! Oh, Master, you have me skinned and flayed. It’s a fine welcome into the graveyard clay!
— Do you need any spiritual assistance, Billyboy the Post? …
— Oh, the snouty lecher, he does …
— De grâce, Master! Control yourself. Billyboy is a very romantic person. Honest …
— You, yourself, Master, used to …
— Faith then, Master, I saw you! … In the school …
— It’s no wonder our children marry heretics and blacks …
— … To make a long story short, Master, it was Whit Monday. I had the day off. I went west along the road to have a little walk for myself …
… Now, neighbour, what harm was there in going for a walk? Only once in a blue moon did I get a chance to lower the mainsail … It wasn’t good for my health to walk east along the road, Master … Calm down! … When I was passing the gate of your house, she had the car out by the roadside. I pumped it up for her. What’s the harm in that, Master? It was neighbourly co-operation … “May the Lord have mercy on the poor Big Master!” says I. “He was so proud of that car.” “Billy,” said the creature, “the Big Master wasn’t destined to enjoy the comforts of this life. The poor Big Master was too good …” Oh, Master, it’s not my fault! … But hold on a minute, Master! Hear me out …
“Sit in, Billy,” she said. “You’ll drive the car for me. I need an outing after being down in the dumps for the past while. Nobody could possibly think of scandal. You’re an old friend of the family, Billy …” Control yourself, Master. Can’t you see everybody is listening! I didn’t think you were that sort of man at all! …
To make a long story short, Master, the place was deserted, apart from the two of us. If you’ve ever been to Promontory Pier at that time of day, Master, you know there’s hardly a more beautiful spot on earth. The lights were being lit on the headlands and uplands across the bay. I felt, Master … Oh, for God’s sake, Master, have a bit of decency! …
… To make a long story short, Master, she told me that her love for me was deeper than the sea … Oh, have patience, Master! Be patient! Ah, Master, I was certain you weren’t that sort of person …
… “God be with this time four years ago!” she said. “Myself and the poor Big Master were here, looking at the lights and the stars and at the glimmering on the seaweed …” Oh, Master dear, you’ll give yourself a bad name! Calm down! … “The poor Big Master,” says I. “The Big Master,” she said, “he was a great loss. But he was too good for …” Master, Master, neighbour, why don’t you hear me out! …
“Whom the gods love, Billy,” she said, “dies young. Musha, Billy, he was terribly fond of you …” What could I do, Master? …
— Now, Master! Máirtín Pockface saw …
— Faith then, you were screwing her, Master …
— … What would you do yourself, Master, if you were in my position there at Promontory Pier, and the two of you looking at the lights, at the stars, and at the glimmering? … Oh, calm down, Master! … To make a long story short, Master … Now, Master, neighbour … Oh, control your impatience, Master dear … Why are you turning nasty on me? I didn’t deserve that from you …
To make a long story short, Master, she sent for three doctors from Dublin for me … I’ve never, in all my life, seen the likes of you, Master! Why are you taking it out on me, Master? Nobody who knew you above ground would believe you’d be going on like this …
“What happened to the Big Master won’t happen to you if I can help it,” she said … The blessings of God on you, Master dear, calm down. You’ll disgrace yourself. And you a schoolmaster and all …
… To make a long story short, Master, I had a piercing pain in my side and kidneys. I got a little relief in the evening: relief before death. She sat on the side of the bed and held my hand … God bless us and save us! Will you look at the commotion he’s making now? How could I control her? …
… To make a long story short, Master: “If it is fated that you should not recover, Billy,” she said, “my life won’t be life to me without you …” Oh, Master, don’t be so vindictive … Even if she did marry again, would it be my fault? … Have patience, Master! …
… To make a long story short, Master, I was on the plank-bridge to eternity when she shouted in my ear: “I’ll bury you decently, Billy,” she said, “and whether my life is long or short after you …” Calm down, Master! Leave me in peace, for God’s sake, Master! … But my peace is gone forever, I believe … Oh, if only she’d thought of burying me anywhere in the graveyard but stuck like a counterfoil to this lunatic. But she couldn’t help it, the creature. She didn’t know what she was doing … Oh, easy on now, easy on, Master!
— Bloody tear and ’ounds for a story, didn’t Big Brian say when Billyboy took ilclass="underline" “That little pipsqueak is for the clay soon,” he said. “By gad, he’ll be lucky to get a burial at all. If he were up in Dublin, he’d most certainly be shovelled into the rubbish bin. But your woman will make a clean sweep of it and bundle him down on top of the Big Master in that hole back there. The two will tear one another apart like two dogs with their tails tied together …”
— … My misfortune and affliction! … Big Brian was right … Two dogs with their tails tied together … Upon my soul, it was true for him! … Our tails were tied, Billyboy …
— It’s true for you, Master …
— We were bounding about, wagging our tails and fawning, till we were trapped and consumed by the lights, by the stars, by the phosphorescence, by the vows. Oh! Billyboy, we mistook the glimmering light for the ever-burning candle …