Ryan's Daughter Page #3

Byron and Beethoven and Captain Blood.

I'm not one of them fellows myself.

- I'm not daft, you know.

- But you're terribly young.

- Aye, and that's a hanging matter, isn't it?

- No, it's not.

Well, then?

It's not a hanging

matter to be young...

but it maybe should be a hanging

matter for a man of middle age...

to try and steal the

youth from a young girl.

Especially a man like

me and a girl like you.

You were meant for the wide world,

Rose, not this place, not this.

Me, I was born for it.

It wouldn't do, Rose.

I just know it wouldn't.

So you don't want me, then?

Don't want you?

- Yes.

- Oh.

Would you like a fat pheasant,

Constable? It'll cost you nothing.

Whoa.

He recognized you.

- Well, you'll have

to be quick- - Shut up!

Bring the cart!

Jesus.

- Fine pair of gunrunners we are.

- Come on.

We'll never walk to

the coast, Commandant.

- It's 200 miles.

- We'll walk to Limerick.

- Limerick?

- The lads are waiting for us.

- Oh.

- And cheer up, Pat.

They're waiting with a lorry.

About 30 fellows.

Now...

marriage is a sacrament ordained

by God. That means, Rosy...

once it's done, it's not up to me,

nor you, nor Charles. It's done...

- till one or other of you is dead.

- I understand that.

God ordained it for three reasons.

First, that Charles and you should

be a comfort to each other...

in the long, dull days

and the weary evenings.

- Do you understand that?

- Yes.

Secondly, for the procreation of children,

and to bring them up as good Catholics.

- Well, you understand that.

- Yes.

And, thirdly...

- for the satisfaction of the flesh.

- Yes.

Are you scared of that?

Yes.

It's nothing to be scared of,

Rosy. A function of the body.

I suppose all girls

is a bit scared before.

And fellows, too.

- Yes?

- Oh, yes.

It will make me a

different person, won't it?

- Marriage?

- No, the satisfaction of the flesh.

That's a gate I have not

been through myself...

but, no, it won't make

you a different person.

I want it to.

Child, what are you expecting?

Wings, is it?

All right, try it.

Seven boats. All currachs.

One thing at a time. Keep a look out.

Top of the morning, Father.

Morning!

- Morning, Father.

- Morning, tinker.

You'll find nothing much here. It all

gets carried round the head to Killins.

Ah.

- Good luck with it, anyway.

- Thanks, Father.

And if them two's tinkers,

I'm the Bishop of Cork.

Now, we'll have one

light on the beacon...

and one on the cliff.

- What now, then? Back to Dublin?

- Tomorrow.

I want to see what Ryan's like.

Are you not done, Mrs. McCardle?

Easy, Mr. Ryan, dear.

They'll not start without her.

Women.

Tim, did you review the volunteers

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