From The Well of the Saints: A Comedy in Three Acts by J. M. (John Millington) Synge

with a sudden movement strikes the can from the Saint’s hand and sends it rocketing across stage. He stands up; People murmur loudly. — If I’m a poor dark sinner I’ve sharp ears, God help me, and have left you with a big head on you and it’s well I heard the little splash of the water you had there in the can. Go on now, holy father, for if you’re a fine Saint itself, it’s more sense is in a blind man, and more power maybe than you’re thinking at all. Let you walk on now with your worn feet, and your welted knees, and your fasting, holy ways a thin pitiful arm. (The Saint looks at him for a moment severely, then turns away and picks up his can. He pulls Mary Doul up.) For if it’s a right some of you have to be working and sweating the like of Timmy the smith, and a right some of you have to be fasting and praying and talking holy talk the like of yourself, I’m thinking it’s a good right ourselves have to be sitting blind, hearing a soft wind turning round the little leaves of the spring and feeling the sun, and we not tormenting our souls with the sight of the gray days, and the holy men, and the dirty feet is trampling the world. (He gropes towards his stone with Mary Doul.)

Martin Doul Monologue from The Well of the Saints: A Comedy in Three Acts

Rehearse Martin Doul's monologue