Professor Tim & Paul Twyning
Date: 2025-07-06T00:00:00+00:00

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Title: Professor Tim & Paul Twyning

Comedies in three acts

Author: George Shiels

Release date: July 6, 2025 [eBook #76449]

Language: English

Original publication: London: Macmillan & Co. Ltd, 1927

Credits: Chris Hapka and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PROFESSOR TIM & PAUL TWYNING ***

PROFESSOR TIM

PAUL TWYNING

MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
London · Bombay · Calcutta · Madras
Melbourne

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
New York · Boston · Chicago
Dallas · San Francisco

THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.

Toronto

PROFESSOR TIM
&
PAUL TWYNING

Comedies in Three Acts

By

GEORGE SHIELS

MACMILLAN & CO, LIMITED
ST. MARTIN’S STREET, LONDON
MCMXXVII

COPYRIGHT

Printed in Great Britain

PROFESSOR TIM was first produced in the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, on Monday, September 14th, 1925, with the following cast:

John Scally | ERIC GORMAN
Mrs. Scally | SARA ALLGOOD
Peggy Scally | EILEEN CROWE
Professor Tim | F. J. MC’CORMICK
James Kilroy | PETER NOLAN
Mrs. Kilroy | CHRISTINE HAYDEN
Joseph Kilroy | BARRY FITZGERALD
Hugh O’Cahan | P. J. CAROLAN
Paddy Kinney | ARTHUR SHIELDS
Moll Flanagan | MAUREEN DELANY
Mr. Allison | J. STEPHENSON

The Play was produced by M. J. DOLAN.

PROFESSOR TIM

A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS

CHARACTERS

JOHN SCALLY | A Farmer
MRS. SCALLY | His Wife
PEGGY SCALLY | Their Daughter
PROFESSOR TIM | Mrs. Scally’s Brother
JAMES KILROY | A Rural Councillor
MRS. KILROY | His Wife
JOSEPH KILROY | Their Son
HUGH O’CAHAN | A Sporting Farmer
PADDY KINNEY | His Groom
MOLL FLANAGAN | His Housekeeper
MR. ALLISON | An Auctioneer

ACTS I AND III: | JOHN SCALLY’S kitchen
ACT II: | O’CAHAN’S dining-room

The action of the play takes place on the same day.

ACT I

JOHN SCALLY’S kitchen. Large and comfortably furnished. A large table and a small one, a number of chairs, an old lounge, and a tall cupboard with glass doors above and wooden doors below. The upper part is packed with china, the under part with linen, etc.

At the back are two windows and a half-glass door opening to the farmyard. Another door left communicates with the hall and the other rooms. Fireplace on the right.

It is a July morning. A strong sun is shining on the back windows.

PEGGY SCALLY is doing laundry-work at the larger table. She is an attractive country girl about twenty-six years old.

PEGGY. I wish this day was finished!

After a hasty glance at the back windows she takes several pieces of jewellery from her pocket and places them on a paper. Before rolling them up she slips a ring on and off her finger, then puts it with the rest and ties the parcel.

If he would just come now and have it over!

HUGH O’CAHAN enters on tiptoe at the left. He is twenty-five years old, dressed in horsey attire which has seen better days, and has an old riding whip in his hand. He wears neither a collar nor tie.

O’C. I was listening, Peggy, to make sure you were alone, and heard you wishing he’d come. Am I the party?

PEGGY. Hugh! how did you get in?

O’C. By the old route, dear; the parlour window.

PEGGY. I suppose you knocked down the plant?

O’C. You and that plant, Peggy! I’ve only touched it once in four years, and that night there was an eclipse of the moon.

PEGGY. Are you riding?

O’C. No, worse luck. For the first morning in my life I’ve no horse to ride. Just this whip left.… I wonder how long it is since the O’Cahans had no horse? How long since the stable at Rush Hill was last empty? It must be a good few hundred years.

PEGGY. You’d a horse yesterday.

O’C. Yes, Havoc. But he, poor thing, was removed last night after dark. He went away as sad as a Christian. That left me without a four-footed animal, save the cat. I’m a pretty handy fellow, Peggy, but I can’t ride a cat.

PEGGY. Did anyone see you coming in the window?

O’C. Not a soul, Peggy. Your mother’s feeding young calves in the paddock, your father’s driving out a long string of cows, and hours ago I saw your brothers and sisters going down the moss road to work. They were singing like birds.

PEGGY. They’ve gone over to the other farm to make hay.

O’C. Their industry is shocking.

PEGGY. Nobody can say that about you, Hugh.

O’C. That’s the style. Are you set on giving me a final lecture? A few nice proverbs on the day I’m to be auctioned out would improve me. Go on, Peggy. Squander your good advice.

PEGGY. I’ve no intention of lecturing, Hugh. A ruined man needs no lecture. He’s a lecture to look at.

O’C. A ruined man at twenty-five! Talk sense, Peggy. You can’t ruin a man at that age—not if you broke him in two. I’ve had my fling, Peggy, it’s all over but the auction, and I don’t regret it.

PEGGY. Just so. [Takes out packet] I’ve your ring and presents here. I want to return them.

O’C. Ah, this is cruel! I hadn’t thought of this. But Lady Fate doesn’t do her work slipshod. She keeps the big hammer for the last blow.… But you might keep these things, Peggy—just to spite the hag.

PEGGY. Impossible, Hugh. You must take them back. They’re valuable, and you may need the money.

O’C. That’s true. I may need the money. [Takes packet and looks round.] Have you no fire here?

PEGGY. We let the fire go out after breakfast.

O’C. And where, if it’s a fair question, do you heat your irons?

PEGGY. There’s a fire over in the old kitchen.

O’C. [going towards back door]. I’ll add some fuel to it.

PEGGY [stops him]. You mustn’t go out there, Hugh! Mother would see you. Don’t be a fool.… I mean don’t be reckless.

O’C. [comes back]. Nothing foolish about me, Peggy. I’ve always been rather famous for my wisdom. [Weighing packet] This was a prudent investment! Four hundred pounds, I think. Do you remember the day I got these trinkets, Peggy?

PEGGY. No.

O’C. You mean yes. I remember it too. I’d sold a mare and foal at a thousand guineas. I was under the impression that you and I were engaged, and I rushed off and bought these family jewels.… ’Twas all a mistake. My mistake.

PEGGY. Stop, Hugh. Please. I remember everything far too well.

O’C. And is this the end of the story? Somehow I can’t believe it. Can you?

PEGGY. We’ve both got to believe it. It’s the only way to end it. You’re free and so am I.

O’C. Well, I must say you’ve cut it down pretty fine. You’ve left it to within an hour of the auction to deliver the knock-out.

PEGGY. I left it as long as I could, Hugh—till there wasn’t a gleam of hope anywhere.

O’C. The auction wasn’t enough of a tragedy for one day! It needed this to finish it.… Here, will you take these things back?

PEGGY. I can’t, Hugh. And I always told you it was folly to put so much money in those presents. Something at half a crown would have done me just as well.

O’C. Perhaps. But I didn’t want a half-crown sweetheart. Nor a half-crown wife either. A woman at that price is usually very dear in the end. [Offers packet] Here, Peggy. Take them and keep them. They’ll remind you of a very foolish fellow.…

PEGGY. I can’t, Hugh.

O’C. You mean you won’t?

PEGGY. I won’t.

O’C. [flings packet across kitchen]. To blazes with that! And with every romantic thing on earth.

PEGGY [picks it up]. I see now what you want. You want mother to come in. You want to make trouble for me.… Here, put this in your pocket. You can throw it in the river.

O’C. You live as near the river as I do. Drown them yourself. Make jam of them if you like.

PEGGY. Well, you needn’t storm. I’ll find some means of returning them. [She puts packet in her pocket.]

O’C. I’ll tell you how to dispose of them. Hang them on Joseph Kilroy. They’ll improve yon cow’s face of his.

PEGGY [wincing]. What do you mean, Hugh?

O’C. Ah, you must think Hugh’s mighty green. It’s a wonder the goats don’t mistake me for brussels sprouts.

PEGGY. You can be very nasty.

O’C. Never without reason. You’ve kept Joseph Kilroy tied to your apron-strings to see how things would pan out at Rush Hill. He walks after you like a sheep. I saw you together last night. Is that nasty?

PEGGY. Hugh, you ought to’ve more sense. You never look at my side of it at all. I’ve three sisters and three brothers, all single. That’s too many single people in one house.

O’C. Well, why don’t they all get married?

PEGGY. They were waiting for me to break the ice, and I was waiting for—well, I don’t want to hurt you.

O’C. That’s very considerate.… Didn’t I want you to marry me two years ago? And who objected?

PEGGY. Everybody objected. They saw the pace you were going and knew how it would end. Everybody could see that but yourself.

O’C. You were all great prophets! The Wise Men of the East weren’t a patch on you. But among you you played a pretty safe game anyhow. When I got a good price for a colt your mother smiled like a basket of cats, but when I buried one she frowned like a gargoyle.

PEGGY. Whether you got a good price for a colt or buried it made no difference to me. You know that very well, but in your ugly mood you won’t admit it.

O’C. Well, it doesn’t matter a pin now anyway. The auction’s at eleven o’clock. I was sorry this morning, but I’m glad now it’s so near. Sale or no sale, I’m clearing out to-night.

PEGGY. Do you mind telling me where you’re going?

O’C. I wouldn’t mind telling anybody if I knew myself. But I’ve no plans. I may go to South America or Australia. Some place where the horse isn’t doomed for another generation.

PEGGY. You and the horse!

O’C. Yes, me and the horse! You’ll have no trouble on that score with Joseph Kilroy. He couldn’t lead a horse to the forge.

PEGGY. All the better for himself.

O’C. As I said, I can go wherever I please. I’ve no home ties. I’m that rare bird you often hear about in Ireland but seldom see—the last man of his race.

PEGGY. Well, Hugh, mother ’ill be in soon. I must say good-bye.

O’C. Is that the whole farewell? Not even a handshake?

PEGGY. What’s the good of it?

O’C. None. It takes two to get the good of it. [Buttoning his jacket] I apologise, Peggy, for having crossed your path.

PEGGY. And I for crossing yours.

O’C. You crossed mine at a critical time. I was twenty and riding straight for the cliff. If you’d followed up your success and married me there’d be no auction to-day.

PEGGY. If!

O’C. You needn’t have drawn my attention to that “if.” I know all about it. My whole life has been a series of “ifs.” If an old woman hadn’t put out her washing on a certain day, I wouldn’t have been an orphan at three years old. If a gust of wind hadn’t blown her washing across the road, my father’s horse would have trotted on home.…

PEGGY. Stop, Hugh! Please. I know the rest.

O’C. If they’d kept the news from mother for three days she might have survived the shock, and so might the infant brother.…

PEGGY. Hugh!

O’C. If I hadn’t missed a train by two seconds I’d have a profession to-day. If Uncle Hugh hadn’t run to catch a train by two seconds, he’d be in Rush Hill and no auction to-day.

PEGGY. You’re only reciting every man’s story, Hugh … and many a woman’s.

O’C. It’s all blind and stupid and insolent. But one needn’t quarrel with such despotism. I’m going, Peggy. If I don’t see you again—good luck, good health, and good-bye. [He is going off left.]

PEGGY. A moment, Hugh. Here’s a clean collar. You look ghastly without a collar.

O’C. [turns back]. Gad, but that’s just like you, Peggy!… They say it’s unlucky to turn back, but I think I can risk it. [Putting on collar] This is like dressing a man before he goes out to be hanged.

PEGGY. I’ll get you a clean handkerchief. [She gets one, rolls the jewellery in it and puts it in his pocket.]

O’C. Sing something, Peggy.

PEGGY. I don’t feel that way inclined. Sing something yourself.

O’C [sings]. “Down by the salley gardens, my love and I did meet….”

PEGGY. Hugh O’Cahan, are you mad?

O’C. No, nor sad. You challenged me to sing.

PEGGY. God knows how men are built! I think if I were in your shoes this morning I should drown myself.

O’C. A lot of good that would do. The old world would go on spinning as before. I don’t suppose they’d postpone the auction [putting on the tie]. I believe a great many people ought to be drowned at baptism, Peggy. It’s about their only chance of ever seeing the gates of heaven, and ’twould save a lot of trouble down here later on. But there’s no sense in letting a fellow grow up wild and then expect him to take a near cut to the everlasting devil. I prefer Australia.

PEGGY. Don’t talk wild, Hugh. You know I didn’t mean it.

O’C. Are you getting afraid I might take a dip? You needn’t. I’ll die in my own comfortable bed at 103, surrounded by—that’ll depend on what I have to leave the watchers. No cash—no tears, no prayers, no flowers.… How does this collar and tie sit me?

PEGGY. All right. They improve you.

O’C. Well, thank you for them very much. I’m off. Vale. [He goes out left, singing] “She told me to take life easy, as the leaves grow on the tree….”

PEGGY [listens]. I hope he doesn’t knock down the plant.… He never asked me to go with him. [Listens.] No, he’s out past it.… He might have kissed me, just once. [She works quietly and shakes the water from her eyes.] Well, well!

MRS. SCALLY comes in back. She is a sharp looking woman, aged sixty, an ex-schoolmistress. She has a paper and some mail in her hand.

MRS. S. Did I not hear voices, Peggy?

PEGGY. There’s nobody here, mother. Is the post past?

MRS. S. Yes.

PEGGY. Nothing for me?

MRS. S. Nothing. [Glancing at her] You’ve been crying.

PEGGY. That’s nothing new.

MRS. S. Nothing new! What have you got to cry about?

PEGGY. I don’t really know. The tears just come, and then I just let them come. It’s very silly.

MRS. S. That blackguard O’Cahan is likely to come over here to say good-bye. He’s going away after the auction. You mustn’t see him.

PEGGY. Hugh O’Cahan is no blackguard! He’s worth a gross of the people who’ve helped to drag him down.

MRS. S. Oh, indeed! Is that the way of it? Are you going to turn on me because he’s left you in the lurch?

PEGGY. I’m sorry, mother. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. But you mightn’t try to hurt me. My three sisters can sneer quite enough without your assistance.

MRS. S. I said Hugh O’Cahan was a blackguard, and I repeat it.

PEGGY. What exactly do you mean by a blackguard, mother?

MRS. S. A worthless scoundrel.

PEGGY. O’Cahan’s a fool. A fool to’ve gone in for horse-dealing with a pack of thieves. That’s the worst can be said about him. If he were vicious would ever I have spoken to him?

MRS. S. Perhaps not—if you knew it.… When you finish what you’re at, prepare the front bedroom. Your uncle has arrived in London from the Far East and is coming to see us. Professor Tim.

PEGGY. Pardon me, mother. You oughtn’t to call him a professor. He isn’t a real professor.

MRS. S. Well, of course, you with your convent training will know better than your mother. What then do you call him?

PEGGY. If he can be called anything in particular it’s a diviner.

MRS. S. Dear bless me. A diviner?

PEGGY. Yes, mother. A water-diviner. A person who can locate water with a hazel rod is called a diviner.

MRS. S. Well, while he remains here, he’s a professor. That’ll give the neighbours something to talk about.

PEGGY. I should say it will.

MRS. S. It’s twenty years since he was last here. He was then studying Geology. If by this time he isn’t a fully-fledged professor—I’m mistaken.… I think you ought to be rather pleased that your mother’s only brother is a cut above the ordinary. Your father’s people aren’t much. Pig-dealers.

JOHN SCALLY comes in back. He is a sturdy little man with a thick brown beard, and ten years younger than his wife. He carries the salley switch with which he drove out the cows.

JOHN. By the hokey, Briget, this is grand news! Outrageous. When’s Professor Tim coming?

MRS. S. He doesn’t say when. He’s just arrived in London from Africa. He may come here any day.

JOHN. I’ll be outrageous glad to see Professor Tim. Glad on your account, Briget, and glad on his own.… But, three guesses, who’s coming down our lane at this minute?

MRS. S. Himself! The Professor.

JOHN. Wrong, Briget. Guess again.

MRS. S. Ach, don’t annoy me! Who’s coming?

JOHN. Mr. James J. Kilroy, the Rural Councillor, and his son Joseph. Hey! there’s more news for you.

MRS. S. Well, keep on your head, John. We don’t owe the Kilroys anything.

JOHN. They’re driving. An atrocious fine pony and rubber-wheel trap. I wonder what they want here, Briget. Such grand people.

MRS. S. They’ll probably be able to explain that when they come in. If their grandeur frightens you, it doesn’t frighten me. Go and meet them and take them round to the hall door. And no scraping or touching your hat to them. Don’t be a serf.

JOHN. You’re a wonderful woman [going]. Outrageous.

MRS. S. Stop a minute, John. How often have I told you to stop using those two big words, outrageous and atrocious? Flinging them round you like paving-stones, and the whole parish laughing at you.

JOHN. It’s just a habit, Briget. Only a habit. I’ve tried my best to drop them, but it beats me. I must try again. [Goes out back.]

MRS. S. Is the parlour tidy, Peggy?

PEGGY. Yes. I dusted it and opened the windows.

MRS. S. Did you know these people were coming?

PEGGY. I thought they might drop in going past to the auction.

MRS. S. Why, of course, that’s it. They’re going to the auction. Go and let them in.

PEGGY. Ah, mother, let them in yourself. I’m dirty.

MRS. S. So am I. But I’m clean enough for the Kilroys. [Goes out left.]

PEGGY. Now for the match-making! [Voices are heard in the yard. She goes to the window.] Oh, holy father!

JOHN ushers in through the back door JAMES KILROY and son JOSEPH.

JOHN. The good-woman’ll kill me for bringing you in the back door, Mr. Kilroy. She said I was to take you round to the front. We’ve a fine hall door, sir. Varnished and all. Outrageous.

KILROY. This is first rate, John. First rate. Good morning, Miss Scally.

PEGGY. Good morning, Mr. Kilroy.

JOSEPH. Mornin’, Pegness!

PEGGY. Good morning, Joseph.

MRS. SCALLY comes in.

JOSEPH. Mornin’, mother Scally!

MRS. S. Good morning, everybody. I told John to take you round to the front, Mr. Kilroy. But you mightn’t try to tell John anything.

KILROY. This is first rate, Mrs. Scally. First rate. [Inspects it] Very clean and neat and up-to-date. Sanitary.

MRS. S. Indeed it isn’t clean at all. We must get the whole house cleaned down from top to bottom, for my brother—the Professor—is going to pay us a visit shortly. He’s in London at present. He hasn’t been home for twenty years.

KILROY [takes off hat]. I never knew you’d a brother a professor. I never heard of him.

MRS. S. Oh, indeed, yes. Tim’s a professor. Won’t you sit down?

KILROY. Thanks. [Sits.]

JOSEPH. I’ll make myself at home over here. [Sits on table beside PEGGY and teases her awkwardly.]

KILROY. This scoundrel O’Cahan, the bank’s selling him up at last.

MRS. S. Yes, the auction’s at eleven o’clock.

JOHN. Aye, as Briget says, at eleven o’clock. Allison’s the auctioneer.…

MRS. S. Silence, John. [To Kilroy] He has nothing left to sell but the land. Not a four-footed beast about the house.…

PEGGY. Excuse me, Joseph. [She goes out back.]

JOSEPH. Will I go with you, Peggy? [No answer.] I’ll risk it anyway. [Goes out back.]

MRS. S. [smelling a rat]. Joseph’s getting a fine young man.

JOHN. Outrageous.

KILROY. Between ourselves, Joseph’s a bit of a playboy. No real vice, you know, but reckless and wild and full of animal spirits. I sent him to an agricultural college, but they had to send him home. He was just that wild. He put himself at the head of a band of gentlemen’s sons and half wrecked the college, and then wrecked the town.

MRS. S. [laughs]. I wouldn’t think a ha’porth of that. Students are full of mischief.

JOHN. Aye, as Briget says, full of life. Fine fellows, Mr. Kilroy. Atrocious.

KILROY. Now, John Scally, I want no more “mistering.” You and I kneel in the same church, and after myself you’re the best respected people in the parish. Call me James.

MRS. S. That’s what I like to hear. No pride or nonsense.

KILROY. I’m going over to this auction. What condition’s the place in, John? I haven’t been up to Rush Hill for years.

JOHN. The sun never warmed a better place, James. Never. Two hundred acres of land like a carrot-bed. You could sow at Christmas.…

KILROY. I know the land’s good. But what about the house? They tell me it’s in ruins.…

JOHN. It’s not in very good re⸺

MRS. S. Silence, John.… The house inside is in ruins, James. O’Cahan had a band of ruffians like himself playing cards there, and last winter they burnt down the stairs and most of the woodwork.…

JOHN. For firewood, James. As Briget can tell you.

KILROY. Well, to come to the point. The Bank has four thousand pounds against it, and—but this is very private—the Bank wants me to buy it.

MRS. S. Buy it, James. Buy it. You’ll never rue the day you bought Rush Hill. Only that we bought a second farm last year, we’d buy it ourselves.

JOHN. As Briget says, buy it, James. Buy it. It’s an outrageous fine sate.…

MRS. S. Silence, John.… It could be made a fine place, James.

KILROY. Well, I’ve a bit of a plan worked out in my head. I’ll submit it to you, Mrs. Scally, for I’ve a deal of faith in your judgment.

JOHN. So well you may, James. She’s a head like an almanac.

MRS. S. Silence, John. Let me hear your plan, James. Whatever you say here is private.

KILROY. I know that or I wouldn’t broach it. A public man has to know who he’s talking to.

MRS. S. Very true.

JOHN. Very, as Briget says.

KILROY. We were speaking about my son Joseph. He’s twenty-one years old this morning.

MRS. S. Bless him, I didn’t think he was near that.

JOHN. Amen. I didn’t think he was sixteen.

KILROY. Joseph comes into his legacy this morning—two thousand pounds. His aunt’s money that died ten years ago.

MRS. S. I remember when she died. God guard him, it’s a lot of money.

JOHN. Amen. As Briget says, it’s a mint.

KILROY. Pay good attention both of you to what follows. Seems Joseph attended a Gaelic class last winter in somebody’s barn.

MRS. S. In Cassidy’s barn. Peggy was there too.

KILROY. The story goes that Joseph noticed Peggy there and became attracted by her.

MRS. S. We never heard that before.

JOHN. We did not indeed, sir, or we mightn’t have allowed it.

MRS. S. Silence, John. I didn’t mean it in that sense. Peggy Scally’s good enough for any man in the parish to speak to. I only said we didn’t know that she and Joseph were friendly, and we didn’t.

KILROY. Shake hands, Briget. [They shake.] I agree with every word you say. Peggy Scally’s a match for the best man in this constituency—and that man happens to be my son Joseph. I hope that’s not bragging.

JOHN. Aye! [He is displeased.]

MRS. S. [smiling]. That was very well put, James. I read all your speeches at the Council and you always hit the nail on the head.

KILROY. Thanks, Mrs. Scally. I’m ten years at that Council Board, and that’s the first bit of criticism that ever entirely pleased me. You’re a brainy woman, Briget.

JOHN. Aye!

KILROY. Now, prepare yourselves for a shock. Joseph told his mother and me last night, plump and plain, that he means to marry Peggy Scally or die in the attempt.

MRS. S. Goodness gracious me! That’s a bombshell.… [letting herself go]. Mercy save us again.… I’m dizzy.… John, d’ye hear what he says?

JOHN. Aye!

KILROY. At first his mother—and indeed myself—objected most strenuously. There’s no use in denying it. But he’s a Kilroy. He gave us till this morning to consent, or hand him out his two thousand pounds and he’d suit himself. That’s the sort of a boy Joseph is.

MRS. S. [on her dignity]. May we ask, Mr. Kilroy, why you and your wife objected so strenuously to the match?

JOHN. Hey! That’s a good question, Briget. Outrageous.

KILROY. And a very natural question, too. But when I submit the reason I know you’ll appreciate it. Both his mother and myself understood that Peggy was engaged to Hugh O’Cahan.

JOHN. Aye. [Sulks again.]

MRS. S. There never was anything serious between Peggy and Hugh O’Cahan, and I as strenuously objected to anything that might have been.… Is that true, John?

JOHN. Aye!

KILROY. That satisfies me entirely, Briget. I told Mrs. Kilroy it was only a rumour. But she was uneasy. You see the legacy come by her sister.…

MRS. S. Well, till your wife comes over here and tells me out of her own mouth that she’s satisfied, there’ll be no match—not if Joseph owned a million.

JOHN. Hey, James! What do you think of that? This lady of mine doesn’t mince words.

KILROY. I didn’t expect this, Briget. But it has to be met. When the Council gets into a fix I have to get them out of it. [Thinks.] Listen, Briget. What’s the matter with you coming over to our place and talking things over with Mrs. Kilroy? I’ll give you all the assistance I can.…

MRS. S. I’ll want no assistance, James. I won’t go.

JOHN. Hey!

KILROY [slowly]. Well, maybe I’ll be able to manage Mrs. Kilroy myself. You know what a mother is, Briget, where her oldest son is concerned. She maybe had something bigger in her eye for Joseph.

MRS. S. She may’ve had something bigger but she’d nothing better in her eye then Peggy Scally. And you can tell your wife I said so.

JOHN. Holy tattler! that’s the best yet. Honour where honour’s due. Outrageous, Briget.

KILROY. You’re making it very hard for me, Briget. You’ve no conception of my difficulty.…

JOHN. I think I understand it, James.…

MRS. S. Silence, John.… There needn’t be any difficulty at all, James. If my daughter’s not good enough for your wife there’s no harm done. And if your wife’s coming, James, bring her to-night, for the Professor may be here to-morrow and he mightn’t want to meet strangers.…

KILROY [slaps his leg]. That’s the solution of the problem! There’s no problem without a solution. Mrs. Kilroy has a weakness for distinguished people. She’ll want to hear all about the Professor from his sister. What time to-night, Briget, would suit your convenience?

MRS. S. About six.

KILROY. Good. She’ll come in that door on the stroke of six. And now for the next item. If Joseph and Peggy make a match of it, what about buying them O’Cahan’s farm? Eh? Rush Hill.

JOHN [gasps]. Hey! Rush Hill.

MRS. S. James Kilroy, you’re a big, bold, clear-headed man!

KILROY. Are you only finding that out now, Briget? The people have been saying that for years.

MRS. S. I always knew you had ability. Your wife had none.

KILROY. Quite right, Briget. And your husband had none. No offence, John.

JOHN. Oh, lord no, James! Nothing in that to take offence at. I never put up to’ve ability. I’d no need of ability. I’ve always made my living with my hands and feet.

KILROY. Well, we know now where we stand. The next is a question of money. If I buy Rush Hill will you stock it, Briget?

JOHN. Hey! That’s one for yourself, Briget.

MRS. S. That’s a very important item, James. It would take five or six hundred pounds to stock it.

KILROY. ’Twould take five. Could you give Peggy that much hard money without hurting yourselves? It would mean big matches for your other daughters.

JOHN. Aye!

MRS. S. There’s something in that, James. But if we give Peggy five hundred, the others might expect the same, and we couldn’t afford it.… Tell me this, James. If Joseph’s legacy buys Rush Hill, where do you come in? You wouldn’t be out a penny.

JOHN. Hey! That’s one for you, James.

KILROY. Joseph’s legacy won’t wink at buying it, Briget. We’ll be very snug if another thousand buys it. I’ll have to raise that thousand myself.… I mean I’ll have to go security for it.

MRS. S. Well, buy it, James, and we’ll stock it. I want to see Peggy and Joseph in Rush Hill.

KILROY [gets up and wipes his brow]. I’d no idea that arranging a match was so difficult. It’s a terrible strain. [Looks watch.] You’ll come over with me to the auction, John, and we’ll look about us before it begins.…

JOHN. I’d as lief not go near it, James. I hate these auction-outs.

MRS. S. Silence, John. Get your good coat and hat.

JOHN. The neighbours is going to boycott it.…

KILROY. The more it’s boycotted, John, the better for you and me.

JOHN. Then let’s all boycott it.

KILROY. No, but let us go and bid a wicked bad price, then I can deal with the Bank on my own terms.

MRS. S. James Kilroy, I’ll speak out what’s in my mind. You’re the best business man I ever come across, and I’m married to the worst.…

JOHN. Ah, Briget, Briget! That’s shockin’ unfair!

KILROY. I don’t want to boast, Briget, [expanding his chest] but if I’d got a woman of your calibre this parish wouldn’t have held me.

MRS. S. I’m certain of it.

JOHN. Ah, by the hedges, that’s cruelty to animals!… Where’s my hat and coat, Briget?

MRS. S. I’ll get them for you. Come into the other room, James. I want to treat you.… Come along, John.

JOHN. Aye, at your heel!

They are going off when JOSEPH comes in back linked on PEGGY.

JOSEPH. Hi! look at this. You’re missing all the sights.

The others turn round.

KILROY. Good man, Joseph! He’s won her. He’s a Kilroy. You couldn’t stop the breed with a mountain battery!

JOHN. Aye!

MRS. S. Mercy, the cheek of young people nowadays! Aren’t you pair ashamed of yourselves?

JOSEPH. We glory in it! Hurrah!

KILROY [shouts]. He’s a Kilroy! Thunder and lightning couldn’t daunt the breed! Didn’t you wreck the college, Joseph?

JOSEPH. Aye, and the town ’twas in.

KILROY. Will you buy Rush Hill, Joseph?

JOSEPH. You’ll buy it and I’ll pay it!

KILROY. Well put. And Peggy’s mother’ll stock it.

JOSEPH. Well put again. Go on, now, and leave us alone.

MRS. S. [laughing]. He’s a Kilroy right enough.… Come on, men. We’re not wanted here.

KILROY, JOHN and MRS. S. go into the room.

JOSEPH. It’s all settled, Peggy. We’re as good as married. Amn’t I a hero?

PEGGY [removing his arm]. And a modest soul. [Takes up iron.]

JOSEPH [sheepishly]. Awh, Peggy.… Awh, now.… Just one. Gwon.

PEGGY. Just one what?

JOSEPH [suffocating]. Awh, you know yourself.… It starts with a K.

PEGGY. Gracious! I think I know what you mean. What a desperate suggestion. What would your mother say, Joseph?

JOSEPH. Awh, sure she wouldn’t know.

PEGGY. But she might suspect.… Better run no risks, Joseph.

JOSEPH [drawing closer]. Let her … let her suspect.…

PEGGY. Mind the iron, Joseph. It’s hot.…

He tries to kiss her and leaps back.

JOSEPH. Moses, Moses! I’m roasted! [Licks his hand.] If you weren’t my own Peggy I’d say you tried to roast me!

PEGGY. I’m sorry, Joseph. I told you it was pretty hot.…

JOSEPH. Awh, what do I care about a burn? I’d ram my hand into the flames of the fire if I took a notion.…

PEGGY. You’re fearfully wild, Joseph.

JOSEPH. Awh, you’ll soon tame me, Peggy. Tell me again. Isn’t all over between you and O’Cahan?

PEGGY. It’s all over, Joseph, only I haven’t quite forgotten him yet.

JOSEPH. Awh, you’ll soon forget all about him. You’ll soon think of nothing in the whole world but me. O’Cahan was a rap.…

O’CAHAN stalks in the back door. He has the packet in his hand and the whip.

O’C. There your presents, Peggy [throws packet on table]. I found them in my pocket. Make jam of them. [Wheels on JOSEPH] Who’s a rap?

JOSEPH [cowering]. Mind, my father’s in the room!

O’C. Call him out.

JOSEPH. I’ll soon call him if you lay a finger on me!

O’C. [hits him a scud with the whip]. There! Call out the Rural Councillor.

JOSEPH [backing away]. I want no fighting with you.

O’C. No, you’re a Kilroy. You burn down colleges and paint towns red in your sleep. [Draws off.] For two straws I’d put a lip on you!

JOSEPH [receding]. My father’ll writ you! He’ll writ you. You’ll not hit me with a whip.…

O’C. Bring out your father. I’ll put a lip on him too.…

PEGGY. Hugh, for goodness’ sake don’t make a scene. It isn’t worth it.

JOSEPH [hugging the room door]. You’ll see my father at the auction. He’ll buy you up, stump and rump.

O’C. And who’ll pay?

JOSEPH. I’ll pay! I’m into my legacy this morning. Two thousand gold sovereigns.

O’C. Listen to me, gurnet. Your father has been swelling about on that money for the last ten years. You’ll have some fun getting your two thousand gold sovereigns, or I’m a fish. That’s why he brought you here this morning—to stop your mouth with a woman. [To PEGGY] Now, Peggy. There’s more news for you. You’ve broken with a bankrupt man to marry a bankrupt prig.

JOSEPH. Awh, you’ll see that at the auction.…

PROFESSOR TIM comes in at back. He is an oldish man, in seafaring clothes, and looks an incarnate toper.

PROF. [swaying on his legs]. Hallo! How’s all here?

PEGGY. All well, thank you. Do you take meal or coppers?

PROF. I take neither meal nor coppers, sweetheart. But you can gimme a kiss if you like. Gum, I won’t object.…

O’C. [draws out to floor him, but stops]. Eh! Gad, that old face of yours looks homely.…

PROF. And begum, mister, that fist of yours looks awful homely to me. You draw out to scatter a man like an O’Cahan.

O’C. Exactly. O’Cahan of Rush Hill.

PROF. Sorry. Your pony and trap’s in trouble down the lane. It’s turned turtle in a ditch.…

JOSEPH. It’s mine … mine.… [Runs out back.]

PROF. [looking around]. I wonder to Gawd am I in the wrong shop after all! Whose bungalow’s this?

O’C. You’re all right, Professor. This is John Scally’s bungalow.…

PEGGY. What! Professor! Oh, sacred trust!

PROF. Whoa, gal. Don’t be so obvious. [To O’C.] Who’s this exclamatory female?

O’C. Your own niece, Professor. Miss Peggy Scally.

PROF. Hallo, sweetheart! Gum, I’ve travelled seven times round the world and never seen a sweeter face. [Hobbles nearer PEGGY.] Shake hands, pigeon, with uncle Tim. The old Professor.…

PEGGY. Go away! Keep back! [Screams.] Mother! mother!

MRS. S. comes in.

PROF. Hallo, sister Briget. Gum, you haven’t aged an hour. Re-markable.

MRS. S. [stunned]. Aaaaaah!

O’C. Sister Briget doesn’t seem able to place you, Professor. You must have changed a little yourself since you were here.…

PROF. Gum, man, I’ve been near dead a dozen times since that. Malaria in Nigeria, yellow-jack in Panama, snake-bite in Siam, and various other accidents by land and sea.…

O’C. And liquor.

PROF. No, sir. I’m a strong temperance man. A bit of a temperance crank, in fact. [Chuckles.] Accidents by land and sea and soda water.

MRS. S. So after raking the gutters of the world you’ve come back to see us!

PROF. Gum, it’s about time I’d pay my respects. Why it must be twenty years since I lookt you up.…

MRS. S. Well, you’ve looked us up at last. You’ve seen me, and I’ve seen you. Let that do you for the rest of your natural life. There’s the door. Step out and don’t come back. We harbour no rakes here—young or old.

PROF. [astonished]. Gum, this is a surprise! This is a nice reception to give the Professor brother after a lifetime abroad. It’s downright unfriendly.…

O’C. A little chilly.

PROF. A little chilly! Mister, it’s frost and snow.

MRS. S. Master Hugh, if you don’t hurry home you’ll not be in time for your auction.

O’C. Thanks, madam. I’m off. I’m not as far down as I thought. [Goes out back.]

MRS. S. You ruffian! what brought you back here in that condition?

PROF. Don’t ask double-barrelled questions, sister. My object in coming here and the condition I arrive in are two different things. Take it point by point.

MRS. S. What brought you here at all?

PROF. For a holiday. A complete rest.

MRS. S. Well, you won’t rest here! Go and take a holiday where you belong. Step out that door and never show your face again.…

PROF. [totters over and sits on table]. I’m awful tired … been travelling a deal lately.…

MRS. S. [exasperated]. Will you step out—before I pitch you out the door?

PROF. Pitch me out the door! You didn’t pitch me out the morning you married Johnny Scally … when I laid a hundred pounds in your lap.… Why, bust you, ’twas that hundred gave you and Johnny a start.

MRS. S. [a little subdued]. I’ll give you a few shillings and you’ll catch the first train. My family’s all grown up and you wouldn’t want to affront us.

PROF. Affront you? I’m not going to affront anybody. I’m going to have a nice, quiet, respectable holiday along the moss edges.… Gum, I want to pick some white heather.…

JOHN, in black coat and hat, comes in, followed by KILROY. MRS. S. stands in front of PROF. to hide him.

KILROY. Where’s Joseph?

PEGGY. He ran down the lane. Something happened the pony.…

PROF. It’s turned turtle in a ditch.…

KILROY. Dang it all! [Runs out back.]

PROF. [pushing Mrs. S. aside]. Stand away back! What are you crowding me up for?

JOHN. Who the hedges is this, Briget?

PROF. Hallo, Johnny! Gum, you stand the years like a brass button. Greetings.

JOHN. By the holy, it’s the Professor! Lord save us, such a case! Such a wreck.…

PROF. Don’t be so obvious, Johnny. A man don’t look his best after a long journey.… I’m tired.…

JOHN. Ah, poor Tim.…

MRS. S. Not another word, John.…

JOHN. Ah, Briget, let me shake hands with him.…

MRS. S. Silence! He’s going out of this. I’ll give him a few shillings and he’ll catch the first train away. He’ll not be here!

PROF. You won’t gimme a few shillings, sister, and I won’t catch the first train away. I’m too glad to be here. I want a wash-up, and a good feed of spuds and cabbage, and about a week’s sleep. I’m tired.…

MRS. S. [grabs his arm]. Come with me! I’ll show you what you’re going to get.…

PROF. [resists]. Lemme go. I won’t budge.…

MRS. S. Come here, John, and lend a hand. We’ll help him outside.…

JOHN. I’d rather not, Briget.…

MRS. S. Come on—when you’re told! Or I’ll smash him and you both.

JOHN [assists]. Come now, Tim. Come, like a good fella. I wouldn’t hurt a hair of your head for the world.…

PEGGY. Mother! mother! the Kilroys are coming in.…

MRS. S. Come, John. Quick. We’ll keep them outside.…

MRS. S. and JOHN go out back.

PROF. Hallo, Peggy. Who did you say was coming? The poleece?

PEGGY. Not at all. Two neighbours.

PROF. [musing]. Gum, I’ve touched low water mark at last. Taken by the scruff of the neck like a rat to be thrown out. [Sobs and watches the effect on PEGGY.] It’s hard, hard to be old and done and frail and homeless and penniless and friendless. [Drying his eyes.] That’s what your friends would do for you.… But no matter.… Eaten bread’s forgotten.…

PEGGY. Never mind, uncle.

PROF. Eh! Your voice is kind. Calling me uncle, are you?

PEGGY. Yes, why not?

PROF. Plenty of whynots. I’m a returned empty, that’s the main whynot.

PEGGY [impulsively]. Empty or full, rich or poor, you’re my uncle Tim! [Shaking hands.] I’m glad to see you, uncle. Welcome home.

PROF. Thanks, pigeon. You’ve a heart. From this minute till I die I’ll have something kind to remember. Any more sisters, Peggy?

PEGGY. Three sisters and three brothers.

PROF. And where are they?

PEGGY. They’re over at the other farm hay-making.

PROF. Have you two farms now?

PEGGY. Yes, we bought a second farm last year.

PROF. Gum, your father deserves credit. He got a tartar of a wife. A perfect shrew.

PEGGY. Mother isn’t so bad. She just likes to boss.…

PROF. That’s obvious. An impossible woman. A victim of temper, vocabulary, and spleen. Do you remember me being here before, Peggy?

PEGGY. Quite well, uncle. You bought me a string of blue beads.

PROF. I’m glad if I did. I don’t remember a thing about it. Bad memory, Peggy. [Looks at his empty hands.] Gum, I thought I’d a valise in my hand. Have I no personal baggage at all?

PEGGY. None with you.

PROF. I must have dropt it in Paris or London.… I’m coming from Nigeria, Peggy. Been coming from Nigeria by easy stages for months and months. [Looks at his clothes.] I wonder to Gawd where I got this toggery? Looks like seafaring clothes.… Probably got them by mistake in London.

PEGGY. When did you arrive in Ireland, uncle?

PROF. I haven’t the remotest idea. The last thing I remember is being down at the docks in London. What day is this, Peggy?

PEGGY. Monday.

PROF. What date is it?

PEGGY. The 6th July.

PROF. July? Gum, I thought it was May.… There’s a big mistake somewhere. The whole month of June’s blotted out.

PEGGY. You’ve been drinking, uncle.

PROF. Not a great deal, Peggy. Just enjoying myself.… Listen, Peggy. Your mother’s likely to put me out. You’re the only friend I’ve got in the world. Could you give me a little cash? Five pounds? I’m dead broke.

PEGGY. I could give you three pounds, uncle. It’s all the money I have.

PROF. Well, for Gawd’s sake, hurry up and get it.

PEGGY. One minute. [She goes into the room.]

PROF. [more alert, looking round]. This is a comfortable spot. A wandering man could find rest here. [Recites]

“And as a hare, whom hounds and horn pursue,

Pants to the place from whence at first she flew,

I still had hopes, my long vexations past,

Here to return—and die at home at last.”

What an autobiography I could give the Scallys, if they’d the wit to let me stay here! A man with the dust of forty countries on his shoes.…

PEGGY comes in with the money.

PEGGY. Three pounds, uncle. Don’t let on to mother.

PROF. [taking it]. No fear, Peggy. I know your mother of old. [Puts money in pocket.]

PEGGY. Have you had any breakfast?

PROF. I don’t know. [Feels at his stomach.] I don’t think so.… Probably had something to eat yesterday. I’m not a big feeder, Peggy. [Takes out snuff box] Have a pinch? Jockey Club.

PEGGY. Oh, gracious heavens! Don’t let mother see that. Do you snuff?

PROF. That’s obvious. [Takes snuff.] Clears the head, Peggy. I feel better already.… If your mother wasn’t so hostile I could stay here long enough. Would you mind, Peggy?

PEGGY. Not if you behaved yourself.… Whisht!

MRS. S. comes in very warlike.

MRS. S. Are you still here?

PROF. That’s obvious. Where did you think I’d be? Evaporated?

MRS. S. Have you no spirit left?

PROF. I’ve far too much spirit. I’m all spirit. What I want is more physical ability.

MRS. S. Oh, you disgrace! You prodigal! You vagabond! That the very smell of the house is insufferable.…

PEGGY. It’s only snuff, mother. If you leave him to me he’ll give no trouble. I’ll get him something to eat and he’ll rest and go away.

MRS. S. He’ll never break bread in my house! He’ll never sleep under my roof! God only knows where he’s coming from, or what plague he has with him.

PROF. My only plague is poverty. A chronic attack of penury. It arises from an absence of brass in the vest pocket. And at my age it’s incurable.

JOHN comes in back.

JOHN. Now, Tim, your own sister won’t have you here. I’ve got my orders to shift you. It’s a dirty job, but you needn’t blame me. I’m only carrying out my orders. Come now, like a good fella. I’ll drive you in to the station and buy you a ticket for some big town.…

PROF. You won’t let me stay to rest?

MRS. S. No. You’re not fit to be in human habitation.

PROF. I’m a sick man. A broken man.

MRS. S. You weren’t too sick to come and affront us.… You prodigal!

JOHN. Easy now, Briget. It’s a fearful thing to turn your face away from a broken man. We’re all prodigals … and we’ll all have to crawl back some day.…

MRS. S. Silence, you! It’s me’s turning him out. He’ll not be here!

PROF. [struggling to his feet]. All right, sister, I’m going. I can crawl back the road I come.

MRS. S. John’ll drive you to the station and see you off. You’re not going to affront us—crawling along the road like that.…

PROF. [draws a seaman’s knife]. Let you and Johnny and everybody else mind their own business. If anybody tries to stop me I’ll defend myself. [Going off back.]

MRS. S. Don’t let him out, John! Stop him.…

JOHN. By hokey, I’ll do nothing of the kind. That man’d think little of knifing me. He’s a sailor.

PEGGY [goes to PROF. at door]. Give me that knife, uncle. Please.

PROF. Sorry, pigeon. I couldn’t get along without that knife. It’s the knife I cut my food and baccy with.

PEGGY. Well, put it in your pocket. Nobody’s going to stop you. You’ll come over with me to the old kitchen and I’ll get you something to eat.…

MRS. S. Never!

PEGGY. Mother, I’ll feed him! Nobody knows whose turn it may be next.

JOHN. God bless you, Peggy. Feed him.

PROF. puts knife in pocket. KILROY and JOSEPH come in back. They stand staring at PROF.

PROF. Bless you, Peggy. You’re as good as you look. I’ll go with you like a lamb.

PEGGY. Come on. I’ll help you across.

PEGGY leads PROF. out back.

KILROY. Who’s that ould viper? I seem to know his face. [Sniffing] The smell of snuff and fish and whiskey would poison you!

MRS. S. It’s not drink, James. He’s a poor man, with the palsy or something, and Peggy always feeds him in the old kitchen.

KILROY. Well, lord knows how she does it. She’ll surely get a powerful reward in heaven. For I couldn’t go next or near him.

JOSEPH. I could go near him! I’ll go over and give him a penny.

MRS. S. You mustn’t, Joseph. He doesn’t like strangers. He wouldn’t take a penny even from me.

KILROY [looks watch]. John, are we going to this auction? If we are it’s time we were away. We won’t have much time to look about us.…

MRS. S. Go, in God’s name, and buy it. I’m determined to see Peggy and Joseph in Rush Hill before a month.…

JOSEPH. Aye—before a week! Come on, father. [Goes out back.]

KILROY. He’s a Kilroy! [Goes out back.]

JOHN [calls after him]. I’ll follow you in a minute, James. [To MRS. S.] Don’t you turn out that unfortunate till I come back.

MRS. S. Why not?

JOHN. Because it’s not right. It’s not Christian. It’s not human. Tim give us a fine start the morning we were married.

MRS. S. You’ve a very long memory.

JOHN. And you’ve a very short one.

MRS. S. Step on. He’ll not be here.

JOHN. If you turn him out he’ll die on the road.

MRS. S. If he does we can bury him. Step on.

JOHN. I may go. But not in God’s name. I’m not enough of a Scribe and Pharisee for that. We couldn’t have luck after this day’s work. We don’t deserve it. [Goes out back.]

MRS. S. Soft John! You’d give him the shirt off your back. And he’s the boy would take it. But he won’t be here when you come back. Not if I have to drive him in to the station myself and ship him! [Sniffing] Mercy! the smell of this house … snuff or something. [Opens all the doors and windows and comes back to the centre.] If the Kilroys see him or get to know who he is—that ends everything.…

PEGGY comes in shaking her head.

PEGGY. We’re lost, mother. He’s gone off across the fields to the auction.

MRS. S. [shrieks]. What! Gone to the auction! Why did you let him out?

PEGGY. Because I couldn’t keep him in. He threatened me with the knife. The man’s either an eccentric, or he’s crazy.…

MRS. S. [sinks on a chair]. Oh, Lord above! Am I to be persecuted and afflicted off the face of the earth? Or why do You permit these people—one and all of them—to make my life a misery? Why, why?

Curtain

ACT II

O’CAHAN’S dining-room. Windows look out on lawn. Door from the hall.

The room has a general tumble-down appearance. There are pictures of race-horses, jockeys, and a large portrait of O’CAHAN’S deceased uncle on the walls. A few silver cups and other trophies are piled on the sideboard.

MOLL FLANAGAN, a squat, middle-aged maid, is trying to hang a clean curtain. The sun has darkened, and the bluish light suggests rain.

MOLL. Och, hum, anee oh! May the curse of Cain fall on anyone who comes to the auction, and may they roast forever in eternal torments that buy it over his unfortunate head! [Fights with curtain] Blast you, stay up!

O’C. comes in and looks around for a book.

O’C. Well, Moll, are you spring cleaning?

MOLL. I’m trying to make it a wee bit dacent-looking, dear.

O’C. I think the shutters would be more suitable.

MOLL. We’ll keep a bold front as long as we can.

O’C. But aren’t you a little foolish to hang clean curtains for somebody else?

MOLL. God look down to your wit if you think I’m hanging them for somebody else! It’s for our own bit of respect and dacency. And God look down to your wit if you think Moll Flanagan won’t tear them down after the auction.

O’C. [going to bookcase]. Suit yourself, Moll. You’re the housekeeper.

MOLL. And I’ll tear down more than the curtains. I’ll not leave a whole pane of glass in the house, nor a square inch of plaster on the walls or ceilings that I won’t smash off with the hatchet. And they’ll be lucky if I don’t burn it to the ground.

O’C. You mustn’t do anything of the kind, Moll. I draw the line at vandalism. Don’t you see him watching you?

MOLL. Who’s watching me?

O’C. [pointing to portrait]. Uncle Hugh. If you start smashing anything he’ll come out of his frame and speak to you.

MOLL. God knows, he’s speaking to me all the time, and his eyes following me everywhere.… Hide the hatchet then, so I won’t be tempted.

O’C. You didn’t happen to see a small book with a greenish cover lying around here? Lindsay Gordon’s poems?

MOLL. I’m sure it’s burnt. I’ve been lighting the fire with books this three days.

O’C. If I saw you lighting the fire with a book, Moll, I’d put you in the oven. [Finds the book] Here it is. It has escaped you. [Opens the book at random and reads.]

“Life is mostly froth and bubble.

Two things stand like stone:

Kindness in another’s trouble,

Courage in your own.”

That bucks a fellow up, Moll.

MOLL. The uncle—God be gracious to him—was dying about that wee book.

O’C. [turning the leaves]. I’m looking for something to make my blood start circulating. Listen to this, Moll. [He rattles off.]

“She passed like an arrow Kildare and Cock Sparrow,

And Mantrap and Mermaid refused the stone wall;

And Giles on the Grayling came down at the paling

And I was left sailing in front of them all.”

MOLL. Many a time I heard the uncle at that. But this was his favourite bit, and he’d rhyme it over fifty times a day. [She half sings it.]

“She rose when I hit her, I saw the stream glitter,

A wide scarlet nostril flashed close to my knee;

Between sky and water the Clown came and caught her,

The space that he cleared was a caution to see.”

Fancy that now. Passing him in mid-air going over the water-lep.

O’C. [laughing]. Good man, Moll! One other spasm. Please. It does me good to hear you.

MOLL. Let me see then. God knows I’d make a fool of myself to hear your laugh. [She recites.]

“She raced at the rasper, I felt my knees grasp her,

I found my hands give to her strain on the bit;

She rose when the Clown did—our silks as we bounded,

Brushed lightly, our stirrups clashed loud as we hit.”

O’C. Magnificent, Moll! Splendid! [Drying his eyes] That’s the best thing I’ve heard for a long time, Moll. If I find myself at Lindsay Gordon’s grave I’ll put an extra flower on it for Moll Flanagan.

MOLL. Where is he buried? In Dublin, is it?

O’C. Certainly. In Glasnevin.

MOLL. He hadn’t an Irish name, but he was a great poet-maker anyway.

O’C. Is Paddy Kinney never back from town?

MOLL [looking out of window]. He’s coming up the avenue at this precise minute.

O’C. Well, if you want me I’ll be in the kitchen, reading bits of Gordon to the Professor.

MOLL. All I can say is—you’re very idly employed. For I never seen a monument of desolation like that man walking the world. What’s he a professor av? What’s he profess to be?

O’C. Theology.

MOLL. Theology! And do they give him nothing to live upon? Lord help us, he’s in ruins. He’s like a rat-catcher.

PADDY KINNEY, an oldish groom, comes in. He has various parcels, including a paper bag with a lady’s hat.

O’C. Well, Paddy, you seem to’ve raised the wind again. You’re laden like a bee in June.

PADDY. Raised the wind, is it! My sowl, your credit’s as good as the Bank of Ireland. I could finance a new railway by naming your name.

O’C. It would be a short railway, Paddy, and a very narrow gauge. But never mind. What have you with you? I didn’t tell you to bring anything.

PADDY. I’ve home money and value. I tell you I was actually refusing obligements at the heels of the hunt. Wait till you see that basket of stuff in the hall. Corn-beef, cakes, and porter galore.

O’C. [shrugs]. Many people gathering down at the road?

PADDY. I see nobody but big, blustering Kilroy, and the son at his fut—like a spent foal—and John Scally. I suppose the wife made John toe the line.…

O’C. Call me when the auctioneer comes. I’m in the kitchen. [Goes out.]

PADDY [bitterly]. Scoff and roast the town of Ballykennedy! That I may live to see nettles fourteen feet high growing on its main street. The people he spent hundreds of pounds with wouldn’t gimme a pot of jam without the money.

MOLL. How then did you get all the provisions you’ve home with you?

PADDY. I paid for them out of my own bit of savings. Ten pounds I’d past me for a rainy day. Twenty years’ gathering.

MOLL [comes from window]. Did you get me anything for my head?

PADDY. I got you a hat. And a dress. That’s what kept so long—choosing them. I’ll never undertake a work of the kind again if I live forever.

MOLL [excited]. Show me the hat, Paddy. Quick. Quick.

PADDY. You’ll put the dress on first. You wouldn’t want to put the dress on over the hat, would you? You always put the saddle on a horse before the bridle.

He opens a parcel and takes out a red dress with black spots.

MOLL. I don’t like it!

PADDY. Well, blessid and holy Moses, such cheek! You don’t like it?

MOLL. I never liked red.

PADDY. Because you never had any taste! Weren’t you and your clothes always a born fright! Here, on with it now.

MOLL [takes dress]. Go you out of the room before I on with it.

PADDY. Gwon, get into it! I’m not looking at you at all. I’ve something else in my mind this minute than your figure.

MOLL. Well, turn your back, Paddy, like a decent man.

PADDY [going to window]. Blast you and your modesty! You’d think you were sixteen. Hurry up now, or I’ll wheel on you.

MOLL puts dress on.

MOLL. All right, Paddy. You can turn now.

PADDY [turning]. It’s a pome. You’re like the pillar of fire that walked before Moses.

MOLL [twisting]. How does it look at the back?

PADDY. Could you not tighten the girths a little?

MOLL [tightening it]. It should have a belt.… Is that better?

PADDY. I asked the shopkeeper if there wasn’t a surcingle, and he said surcingles are out of fashion.

MOLL [trying to look at her heels]. How does it look round at the back, Paddy?

PADDY. Jog across there a few paces.

MOLL. Lord, it’s not a horse you’re vittin.

PADDY. How then can I see your back if you don’t give me a show? Jog on. [MOLL obeys.] Woah! Stand up straight.… Draw yourself together now and come on with the head well up, and shorten your stride a little. [MOLL obeys.] Woah. It has just one fault. It’s far too stylish for the like of you.

MOLL [pleased]. Oh, that’s a good fault. I’ll keep it. Let me see the hat now.

He takes out a bilious-looking hat entwined with varnished cherries.

PADDY. Put that on your head now. And then look in the glass.

MOLL. Oh, it’s a beauty! Oh, I like the hat, Paddy. But I haven’t a hat-pin.…

PADDY. There you are. Two of them. [Hands her two pins.]

MOLL [putting hat on]. God knows, Paddy Kinney, you’re a marvel. You forget nothing.

PADDY. A man that’s looked after leppin’ horses for twenty years doesn’t forget much.

MOLL. And to be a man you’re tasty.

PADDY. A man that’s attended Dublin Horse Show for twenty years should know when a woman’s dressed.

MOLL. Wait till I see how it looks. [Goes to a mirror and stands twisting her neck.]

PADDY. Take care you don’t twist your neck out of joint.… My God, the vanity of wimin!

MOLL [turning]. Isn’t it simply gorgeous, Paddy?

PADDY. You’ve left me without a word to say. It’s a pome.

MOLL. I’m well pleased with everything, Paddy. What did they cost?

PADDY. They cost you nothing at all. They’re an acknowledgment for all the imperence and washing and patching you’ve done for me.… Your health to wear them.

MOLL. Ah, Paddy, Paddy.…

PADDY. Not another word now or I’ll rise and lep through my weskit.

MOLL. But ’twas too much, Paddy.…

PADDY. No more, I say. It’s our last day under this roof, and you can face the world now well dressed and respectable. With that rig you’ll have no trouble getting new service.…

MOLL. Whisht … whisht!

O’C. and PROF. come in.

O’C. The Professor wants to speak to you, Paddy.

PROF. Hallo, Paddy Kinney. Gun, I’d know your old phizog in a Sahara sandstorm.

PADDY. Well, in sowl, you’ve the advantage of me … for asleep or awake I’ve never seen you before.

O’C. Nonsense, Paddy. You know him all right. Mrs. Scally’s brother—Professor Tim.

PADDY. Ah, surely to God! It’s Tim of the hazel rod [shaking hands]. And how’s every inch of you, Professor?

PROF. Gum, Paddy, I’m not as robust as I was. But I’m not getting any younger. And I’ve been travelling a deal lately. I’m tired.

PADDY. You want a month on the grass with the shoes off.

PROF. Exactly, Paddy. Complete rest.

PADDY. Well, I’m glad to see you, Professor. Keep a good spirit. Plenty of good mate and drink and the pure air ’ill soon bring you into condition.

PROF. But where am I going to get all that, Paddy? The Scallys don’t want me. My own sister pushed me out of doors.

PADDY. And for a man that has travelled the world—what did you expect?

PROF. I didn’t expect much, Paddy. That’s true. But I didn’t reckon on being pushed out of doors.

PADDY. Well, that’s where you made a mistake, Professor. For when a man comes down in the world as far as he can get, his own relations give him the last kick.… There’s a couple of bob, Tim. I wish it was more. But there’s a basket of corn-beef, cakes, and porter in the hall. You can help yourself.

PROF. [taking money]. Thanks, Paddy. Gum, you’re a good Irishman.

PADDY. Yerra, nonsense! Sure an ould timer’s an ould timer whether he’s down or up.

O’C. The Professor wants you to see about a valise, Paddy.

PADDY. With all my heart.

PROF. I’ve dropped it somewhere, Paddy. It’s either at Ballykennedy station or London.

PADDY. I’ll try Ballykennedy station first, I think.

PROF. Gum, yes. You’d get lost in London.

O’C. You can go in after a bit, Paddy.… Come on, Professor.…

MOLL. Are you not looking at my new dress, master?

O’C. I’ve been looking at nothing else, Moll. You’re a picture. [To PADDY] There’s a French milliner lost in you, Paddy.

PROF. Gum, Moll, I’ve travelled seven times round the world and never seen a more devastating colour scheme. You’re like a bird of paradise.

MOLL. I wouldn’t like to be too peacockish.

PROF. You’re not a bit too peacockish. You’re more of a macaw.

PROF. and O’C. go out.

PADDY. So that’s the end of Professor Tim! That man’s as far down as he can get. And I mind him a nice young fellow, and a devil for fun. He’d put a white sheet on himself and sit for a whole night moaning on the graveside wall.… Poor Tim.

MOLL. He’s an eye for a well-dressed woman anyway. Seven times round the world and never seen the beat of it.

PADDY. He’ll go round it seven times more before he sees the like of it.

MOLL. I must take great care of it, Paddy. [Takes hat off.] I’ll keep the dress on till after the auction.

PADDY [takes out a new trotting collar and tie]. This is for myself. And listen to me, Moll Flanagan, and don’t breathe a word of this till the master.…

MOLL. Lord save us, Paddy, but you can look la-mentable serious. You’re not going to mention marriage.…

PADDY. I haven’t the least notion of marriage. I’ve trouble enough without marrying more.

MOLL. That’s pure imperence.

PADDY. Listen you to what I’m saying. Isn’t there a black coat and hat of the ould master’s upstairs?

MOLL. There’s a full black suit, not a pin the worse. And a beautiful hat.

PADDY. Well, take and brush them well and slip them round to the stable. And don’t let a living sowl see you. I’m going to dress up like a country squire and make the Kilroys pay for Rush Hill.

MOLL. My darlin’ Paddy! Lord, but that’s a noble trick.… I’ll brush them like a new pin and take them round under my apron.

PADDY. By my sowl, if we have to get out cheap, the Kilroys ’ill have to come in dear. I’ll salt it to the very bone.

MOLL. Hide the collar and tie.… I hear someone coming in.…

PEGGY comes in.

PEGGY. Where is Mr. O’Cahan?

MOLL. In the kitchen, honey.

PEGGY. Anyone with him?

MOLL. A Professor of Theeology.

PADDY. Mind your tongue now, Moll.

PEGGY. It’s all right, Paddy. Moll wouldn’t sting me.

MOLL. God knows I wouldn’t. I love the ground you walk on.

PEGGY. Tell Mr. O’Cahan to come here, Moll. You needn’t say who wants him.

MOLL. Not a word, dear. [Going, but turns back] Do you like my new dress, Miss Peggy?

PEGGY. Very much indeed, Moll. It’s quite smart.

MOLL. It’s a thought too stylish for the likes of me, but it’s a good fault. The hat to match it is in the bag. Show it to her, Paddy. [Goes out.]

PADDY [very serious]. Are you going to marry him, Peggy?

PEGGY. I’m afraid not, Paddy. Things have gone against us.

PADDY. That’s the very time to lay your cheek to the mane and ride for your life … when the race is all but lost.

PEGGY. It’s not so easy, Paddy.

PADDY. O’Cahan always rides hardest in the rocky field.… You’ll never find a mate like Hugh O’Cahan.

PEGGY. I know it.

PADDY. And such an archangel on a horse! Lord, ’twas a pome to watch him taking the stone wall. And the double-bank, he’d touch it as light and airy as a thistledown.…

PEGGY. I know, Paddy. I know.

PADDY. Says the white-haired Judge, tucking the red roseatte in the bridle, “I’ve never in the coorse of a long life,” says he, “beheld such classical leppin.” … That was a day!

PEGGY. I know, Paddy.

PADDY. Did I ever tell you the story about the big brown horse, Havoc, the time he gave a great lunge and pulled O’Cahan out of the saddle and up on his neck?…

PEGGY. You did, Paddy. You told me all about it … several times.… You’ll have to excuse me, Paddy. I want a few words privately with Hugh.…

PADDY. Certainly. I’ll pull out the minute he comes in.… But do what I tell you now. Go with him wherever he goes. He’s only five-and-twenty. Put your money on O’Cahan, Peggy. At thirty he’ll be one of the successful men of the world.… [He dries the sweat off his brow.]

PEGGY. He’s a three-quarter Vet. as it is. Why doesn’t he finish?

PADDY. Aye—to vet Ford cars.… It’s disgusting! The blight is upon us, Peggy. The horse is going, the O’Cahans are going, and the Paddy Kinneys are doomed.… It’s Ireland’s tragedy, but she doesn’t know it.

PEGGY. I hear him coming, Paddy.

PADDY. All right, I’m going. But don’t forget Paddy Kinney’s warning, or you’ll never know happiness again. Without O’Cahan by your side you won’t know the summer from the winter but by the leaves on the bushes.…

O’C. comes in, looking displeased. PADDY goes out, doleful.

PEGGY. I see you’re angry, Hugh. But mother sent me after uncle Tim.

O’C. I’m not angry. I’m ashamed of this place.

PEGGY. I’m not looking at the place at all. Is uncle in the kitchen?

O’C. Yes.

PEGGY. Will you tell him to go home? Mother wants him back.

O’C. I’m not holding him. But I won’t ask him to go. That would be breaking an old custom in this house.

PEGGY. Will you let me see him?

O’C. I think he’s coming in.… [Calls] Come in, Professor.

PEGGY. Hugh, don’t call him Professor.… It hurts.

PROF. comes in eating biscuits and cheese.

PROF. Hallo, pretty Peggy. Have you tracked me down already?

O’C. I’ll leave you.…

PEGGY. You needn’t, Hugh.… Uncle Tim, you’re to come home.

PROF. Want the luxury of throwing me out again?

PEGGY. I didn’t throw you out.

PROF. Your mother did.

PEGGY. Well, she wants you back. She sent me to fetch you. The stationmaster has sent out your valise.…

PROF. Your mother must think it contains something valuable. [Chuckling.] Gum, she’s mistaken. The contents are some old clothes and a hazel rod—the symbol of my profession.

PEGGY. Hugh, won’t you tell him to come with me? Please.

O’C. He can suit himself, Peggy. He knows how matters are here.

PROF. I’ll stroll over after a bit, Peggy. We’re going to’ve an auction here. Gum, I’ll stay till it’s over.… See a bit of Irish life.

PADDY puts his head in.

PADDY. There’s a railway porter here with an ould port-mantle. He wants a tip.

PROF. Gum, Paddy, you’ve got a sense of humour. [Going] I thought I’d dropped it in London. [Goes out.]

PEGGY. Are the Kilroys here?

O’C. Yes, they’re hovering around somewhere—like jackals.

PEGGY. They’re going to buy Rush Hill for Joseph and me.

O’C. So I believe.

PEGGY. And you don’t mind?

O’C. Don’t mind? That’s a rather funny question. Suppose I did mind. Would that alter it?

PEGGY. You never know. Marrying Joseph Kilroy is one thing, but coming to live here is another.

O’C. If you can do the one you can do both.

PEGGY. I may do neither. What time are you leaving here to-night?

O’C. Whatever time the last train goes. Seven o’clock, I think.

PEGGY. I’m going to ask you a pointed question, Hugh. How much money have you?

O’C. I got two hundred pounds for Havoc. I’ve that, but I’ve to pay for a colt out of it. Forty pounds.

PEGGY [takes out packet]. These presents would make two hundred more. If you don’t sell them, I will!

O’C. Suit yourself.

PEGGY. Will you call at our house before you go?

O’C. What’s the idea, Peggy?

PEGGY. Never mind that now. Will you call?

O’C. Some new notion. I’ll call anyhow. About six.

PEGGY. Thanks. [Puts the packet in her pocket.] I’ll expect you at six.… I’ll go now and try and get uncle Tim to come home with me.…

PROF. comes in with an old valise, plastered with innumerable labels.

PROF. Gum, this old valise and me have seen some ups and downs. [He puts it on a chair and fumbles for the key.] I’ve dropped it in Paris, and picked it up in Honolulu.…

PEGGY. Aren’t you coming home, uncle?

PROF. It’s been stolen in London and restored to me in Japan. [He opens it.] A man might as well try to lose his third wife.…

PEGGY. Aren’t you coming home, uncle?

PROF. [takes out a cleft hazel rod]. I’m going to do a little professional work. I’ve an idea this house is built on a spring. [He starts prospecting for water.]

PEGGY. Uncle!

O’C. Leave him alone, Peggy. It’s interesting.

PROF. There’s water here, somewhere. [The rod vibrates.] Wo, gal! [The rod dips quickly.] Gum, this is powerful! [The rod twists itself violently out of his hands.] Three springs converge to a point at fifty feet, Hugh.

O’C. It must be a lake.

PROF. A lake has got no life. It’s dead. A spring has a pulse and lives. I can hear a spring breathing.

PEGGY. Now, uncle, aren’t you coming home? You’ve done very well. You’ve shown us up.…

O’C. Yes, you’d better go home with your niece, Tim. I’ll see you again before I go away.

PROF. Right, boss. [He puts the rod in the valise and is going out with PEGGY.]

O’C. If you leave your valise in the hall I’ll send Paddy over with it.

PEGGY. Thanks, Hugh. [She and the PROF. go out.]

O’C. [calls]. Are you there, Paddy?

MOLL [off]. Paddy’s in the stable, master. [She comes in.] Is it anything very urgent?

O’C. No. You can tell Paddy to take the Professor’s valise over to Scally’s later on.

MOLL. I’ll tell him. [Sighing] Och, hum! I hate to break the news, master. But the auctioneer’s coming.…

O’C. I heard the car, Moll. Let him come. The sooner it’s over the better. [Looking out] It’s going to rain.…

MOLL [going]. I hope it rains heavens hard … and drowns the grabbers! [Goes out.]

O’C. [turns uncle’s portrait face to wall]. Poor old man! You mustn’t see the last act in this drama.

MR. ALLISON comes in, attaché-case in hand.

ALLISON. Good morning, Mr. O’Cahan. You’ll hardly believe this. I’d rather go a thousand miles than do this job.

O’C. I certainly don’t believe a word of it, Sam. But I quite understand—you have to say something. Even the undertaker has to say something.

ALLISON. Perhaps you’ll believe this. I take no special pleasure in selling you up.

O’C. That’s better. You’ve no respect of person. The sale’s the thing.

ALLISON. You’re cynical.

O’C. Just the least bit. But you can believe this, Sam. If there’s anything in it, since it has to be sold anyhow, I’d rather see you here than anyone else.

ALLISON. Thanks, Hugh. I know it.… James Kilroy is going to buy it.

O’C. So I’m told.

ALLISON. Have you anyone here to run it up on him?

O’C. No, sir. I don’t believe in doing dirty work for the Bank.

ALLISON. Paddy Kinney has destroyed all chance of a sale. He made a house-to-house canvass and got the neighbours to boycott the auction.

O’C. If he did I knew nothing about it. But it’s like a thing Paddy would do.

ALLISON. I’m going to tell you a secret, Hugh. The Bank’s reserve is three thousand pounds. If it doesn’t make that at the auction it won’t be sold.

O’C. It won’t make it.

ALLISON. Then Kilroy’ll have a private deal with the Bank. You see? You ought to’ve had someone here to run it up.

O’C. My dear sir, sale or no sale, I’m clearing out to-night. I don’t care whether it makes three thousand pounds or three-ha’pence.

ALLISON. Oh, that’s different.

KILROY, JOSEPH, and JOHN appear in the doorway.

KILROY. I hope we’re not intruding. It’s going to rain.

O’C. No intrusion. This is an auction. Come in.

All three come in. O’C. stands on the hearth-rug and trims his finger-nails.

KILROY. You’re not going to’ve a big crowd, Mr. Allison.

ALLISON. Evidently not.

O’C. The number of local grabbers is smaller, Mr. Kilroy, than you thought.

KILROY. I don’t like the way you put that, sir!

O’C. I thought you wouldn’t like it. That’s why I put it that way.

KILROY [hotly]. Do you call me a grabber?

O’C. Now, now. Don’t lose your head. This isn’t the Rural Council.

KILROY. By heavens, O’Cahan, you and your uncle always treated me like dirt!

O’C. We always liked to treat a man as we found him.

KILROY. But it’s my turn now. I’m here to buy Rush Hill, and I don’t care who it angers or who it pleases.… Now, Mr. Allison, read the terms. It’s long after eleven o’clock.

PADDY comes in dressed like a man of means.

PADDY. Is the sile ovah?

ALLISON. No, sir. It’s not on yet.

PADDY. Awh, that’s lucky.

KILROY. Read the terms, Mr. Allison.

ALLISON. I’ll go out to the front steps.…

KILROY. Well, come ahead. I don’t care where you read them.

KILROY, JOSEPH, PADDY, JOHN, and ALLISON go out.

O’C. [stands listening]. I wonder who put Kinney up to this!… Probably his own notion.… [Smiles.] Poor old Paddy! He’s as much a part of Rush Hill as the O’Cahans.

MRS. SCALLY comes in.

MRS. S. Where is my daughter?

O’C. Which of them?

MRS. S. Peggy!

O’C. I don’t know, madam, where she is.

MRS. S. Don’t you dare to stand there and tell me you don’t know! She came over here half an hour ago.…

O’C. I’m afraid that sort of talk has no effect on me. You see I’m neither your husband nor one of your offspring.

MRS. S. Thank God, you’re nothing to me!

O’C. Amen. One couldn’t be too grateful.

MRS. S. You’ve lost everything but the O’Cahan cheek.

O’C. And you have gained everything but good manners.

MRS. S. While I’m here I’ll give you a bit of my mind. You’re a disgrace to the parish. A living disgrace.

O’C. Thank you for saying it to my face. You’ve been saying it a long time behind my back.

MRS. S. Everything I said was true.

O’C. [shrugs]. I never contradicted anything.

MRS. S. Because you couldn’t. The proof is written all over Rush Hill.… The tree is known by its fruit.

O’C. In Ireland a man is better known by the number of people who stay away from his auction.

MRS. S. [looks around]. Lord above! The condition of this room tells a long story. Confusion and calamity.

O’C. It was very amusing here a few minutes ago. The eminent Professor was prospecting for water.

MRS. S. You’re a likely one to be throwing stones.

O’C. I’m not throwing any stones. I think Professor Tim a very interesting man.

MRS. S. You and the Professor have a great deal in common, no doubt.

O’C. Much more than you could imagine. There are only two sorts of people in the world. Interesting people and bores. I can never have too much of the one, nor too little of the other. [Yawns in his sleeve.]

MRS. S. I ask you again, where is Peggy?

O’C. She isn’t here, madam. She and the Professor returned to your hospitable roof a little while ago.

MRS. S. Did they go the back way?

O’C. Evidently, since you didn’t meet them on the front way.

MRS. S. And what’s the valise doing in the hall?

O’C. It’s waiting for Paddy Kinney to carry it across. You can have it if you wish.

MRS. S. That’s all I wanted to know! I’ll stay here for the auction.

O’C. You’re very welcome. Won’t you sit down?

MRS. S. No, I’ll just look about me.…

ALLISON puts his head in.

ALLISON. Mr. O’Cahan, could I have something to stand up on? I’m going to auction in the hall. It’s going to be a downpour.…

O’C. Why not come in here? I haven’t the smallest objection.

MRS. S. Come in, Mr. Allison. Come in, Mr. Kilroy.

ALLISON, KILROY, JOSEPH, JOHN and PADDY come in.

ALLISON [mounting a chair]. I suppose we may as well commence.…

MRS. S. God bless me, is this all the people?

ALLISON. I’m sorry to say it is, madam. The sale has been boycotted.

MRS. S. Oh, well. It’ll just go all the cheaper.

ALLISON [takes out hammer]. Gentlemen, you’ve heard the terms of sale. I’ve also told you that the Bank has fixed a reserve price below which Rush Hill can’t be sold to-day.… Now, I’ll take offers.…

MRS. S. Come, John. Bid up.

JOHN [dourly]. Let somebody else start it. I hate these auction-outs.

MOLL appears in the doorway.

MOLL. Here’s the great Professor Tim … looking for his sister Briget Scally.…

KILROY. Good, good! Bring in the Professor! This is very lucky.…

MRS. S. [reeling towards door]. No, no no! Don’t let him in.…

She tries to push out past MOLL, who shoves her back into the room.

MOLL. Stay in there, Vanity Fair! till the hand of God falls on you in public. [Shouts] Come in, Professor! Come in. Your sister Briget’s just dying to meet you.…

PROF. staggers in. KILROY gasps.

PROF. Hallo, all! Am I in time? Gum, it’s an infinitely small auction.

KILROY. Who in the devil’s name is this?

MRS. S. James Kilroy, this is my brother. He gave me to understand he was a Professor. And there he’s after twenty years’ rambling. A disgrace. And Hugh O’Cahan has made the most of him.

KILROY. I see. This has been all staged before. But it won’t work.

MRS. S. That’s the style, James. That’s common sense. This tramp’s visit needn’t interfere with our plans. He’ll go off to-night.… He can go with O’Cahan.…

PROF. I’ll go off when I’m ready. [To ALLISON] Go on, mister. Open the bazaar. It’s over twenty years since I attended an Irish auction.

KILROY. Go ahead, Allison. Five hundred pounds.

ALLISON. I won’t take that bid.

PADDY. Fifteen ’undred.

MOLL. Hurrah!

ALLISON. I’ll take that bid. I’m offered fifteen hundred pounds.…

PROF. Two thousand! Gum, it’s worth that between a Scot and a Jew.

MRS. S. Mr. Allison, this man hasn’t a white sixpence. I’ll have to give him what’ll take him away.…

PADDY. Twenty-two ’undred.

ALLISON. Steady now, gentlemen. I’m bid twenty-two hundred pounds.

JOSEPH [wildly]. Twenty-two-fifty!

KILROY. Easy now, Joseph! Easy. Don’t get excited.… [He drags JOSEPH away.]

PADDY. Twenty-four ’undred.

PROF. Twenty-five hundred.

PADDY. Twenty-six.

PROF. Twenty-seven.

PADDY. Twenty-nine.

PROF. [to PADDY]. Gum, you’re a crafty gentleman. You want it knocked down to me at three thousand.…

The KILROYS and MRS. S. are on the nerves.

KILROY [loudly]. This is a put-up job! The whole thing—Professor and all—is a piece of O’Cahan’s twisting.…

O’C. [strides across to KILROY]. Say that again!

JOSEPH [gets behind his father]. Now, father. Into him!

KILROY [afraid]. Didn’t you call me a grabber?

O’C. And what the blazes else are you? Haven’t you got a home of your own?

JOSEPH. Intil him, father!

O’C. Listen to me, Kilroy! I’ve been taught in good company to keep my temper. To win or lose all like a sportsman. But no man ever called me a twister twice. I’ll let you slip this once. But if you speak to me again, so help me God, you and your clown of a son’ll leave this room feet first! [Goes back to his place.]

JOSEPH [shivering]. Intil him, father! He struck me with a whip this morning.…

PROF. My advice to you, young man, is to keep quiet. Your father is too old, and you’re too young. And I’ve grave doubts as to your courage.

ALLISON. I’m selling this farm. You can exchange compliments later on. [To Paddy] Your last bid is twenty-nine hundred pounds, sir?

PADDY. Yes. Knock it dahn.

ALLISON. I’m offered two thousand nine hundred pounds by a strange gentleman who has evidently come to buy Rush Hill and who has no quarrel with anyone. Any advance?

PROF. Another fifty pounds. Keep the ball rolling.…

MRS. S. [shrieks]. Don’t take his bid! The man couldn’t buy a box of matches.… James Kilroy, a word with you and Joseph.

MRS. S., KILROY and JOSEPH confer.

PROF. Did you take my bid, mister?

ALLISON. No, sir. I don’t want to hear from you again. If you have money to buy Rush Hill, you ought to invest a little in soap and a shave.…

PROF. Mister, you’ve no more brains than that hammer.

KILROYS and MRS. S. come back.

ALLISON. Well, Mr. Kilroy. Are you going to give us another bid?

JOSEPH. Gwon, father.

KILROY [after a glance at PADDY]. Three thousand pound.…

PADDY. Thirty-one ’undred.

KILROY [losing his head]. Thirty-two hundred.

PADDY. Thirty-three.

KILROY [dancing]. Thirty-four.

PADDY. Thirty-four-fifty.

KILROY. Thirty-five hundred!

PADDY [turns away]. I’m through.

KILROY [grabs hold of him]. Don’t go away. Stand your ground like a man.…

PADDY [freeing himself]. Mind your own business. I’m through.

ALLISON. At three thousand five hundred pounds … going … going.…

KILROY. Don’t, Allison! Wait a minute. [Looks wildly at PADDY] Come on, man. Give it another bid.

PADDY. No more. I’m through. [Exit, followed by MOLL.]

ALLISON. If no advance, at three thousand five hundred pounds … going … going … gone! Mr. James J. Kilroy’s the buyer.

JOSEPH. Hurrah for my father! The finest man in the nation. He can buy Rush Hill. And I can marry Peggy Scally. [He runs out.]

KILROY [sighs]. I’m ruined.

ALLISON [getting down]. Nonsense. It’s worth five thousand pounds. [Takes out document.] Sign this agreement, James.

KILROY. I’ll sign nothing here. I’ll sign at the Bank. I’m going straight in to the Bank.

ALLISON. I’m the auctioneer. This preliminary agreement has got to be signed here and now.

KILROY [irritably]. I’ll not sign it!

ALLISON. All right, sir. As agent for buyer and seller I can sign for both. [He writes KILROY’S name.]

PROF. That’s right, Allison. Don’t let the big codfish escape.…

KILROY [pulling himself together]. James J. Kilroy, R.D.C., never hedged in a deal yet. I wanted Rush Hill at less money, but it’s worth all it cost.… Hand me that pen, Allison. I’ll sign.

ALLISON. It’s all right, James. I signed your name. You can meet me in the Bank at two o’clock.

KILROY. I’ll be there!

ALLISON. Good-bye, Mr. O’Cahan. Thank you for treating us so well.

O’C. Don’t mention it, Sam.

ALLISON goes out.

PROF. We made you pay through the nose for it, Kilroy.

KILROY. Mrs. Scally, if you’ve that man about the house to-night I needn’t bring Mrs. Kilroy.…

MRS. S. Leave that to me, James. Bring your wife over at six o’clock as we arranged.

KILROY. Well, I will. [Goes out.]

MRS. S. John, who was that strange man?

JOHN. I don’t know nor I don’t care!

PADDY comes in, in his own clothes.

PADDY. The strange man, is it? I can tell you who he was. He was a man the Bank sent out to sweeten it. And I can tell you more. James Kilroy’s the buyer, but he’ll have the devil’s own time getting bail.

JOHN. By hokey, that’s news!

MRS. S. Silence, John. Would you heed a drunken horseboy? [To PROF.] Now, Tim dear, come with me. You need a good rest. You’re tired.…

PROF. [rising.] Stand back, Briget! I don’t want a good rest—closed in the barn. [Loudly] My valise! Where’s my valise?

MRS. S. Where are you going?

PROF. I’m off. Important engagement in London.

MRS. S. That’s a good man. Keep your appointment. Or I’ll put you where you won’t keep any appointments for a day or two. [To JOHN] Is James Kilroy away, John?

JOHN. No, he’s talking out at the front.

MRS. S. Tell him to come here. Quick now.

JOHN goes out.

PROF. My valise!

MOLL comes in with the old valise.

MOLL. Here’s your valise, Professor. And I suppose all your theological tools are inside of it. [Lays it beside him.]

PROF. Good-bye, O’Cahan. Thanks for the bread and cheese. That’s more than I have to thank my own sister for.

O’C. Don’t mention it, Professor. [Gives him money.] Sorry I’m leaving here myself, or you could have lain around and had a rest.

PROF. [salutes]. You’re a chip off the old block. In rain or shine, the O’Cahans were fine men. [Goes to PADDY] Good-bye, Kinney. Thanks for the two bob.…

MRS. S. Lord above, did you take money from Paddy Kinney?

PROF. I did, and was glad to get it.… Good-bye, Paddy.

PADDY. Good-bye, Professor. May we all see better days.

PROF. Adieu, Moll Flanagan. Don’t sit on a barrel of gunpowder with that dress.

MOLL. Good-bye, y’ould wreck ye! Yourself and that portmantual should be taken out to a bog and buried.

PROF. Gum, that’s right, Moll. A long rest in an Irish bog would just suit me. I’m so tired.

KILROY and JOHN come in.

MRS. S. James Kilroy, will you drive my brother to the station? He wants to catch the first train.

KILROY. I’d drive him to the very devil! [To PROF.] Where are you going?

PROF. Important engagement in London.

KILROY. Gimme that ould bag! And come with me. [Takes valise.] It won’t be my fault if you miss the train. [Exit KILROY.]

PROF. My sister, I won’t bid you good-bye. You treated me like a yellow dog. [To JOHN] Good-bye, Johnny. I don’t blame you. You’re only a scarecrow on your own farm. A domestic serf.

JOHN. I’ve no money, Tim, or I’d give you some.

PROF. It’s all right, Johnny. I understand your financial status. Briget carries the purse in her trousers pocket.

PROF. goes out.

MRS. S. Oh, thank God to be rid of that disgrace!

PADDY. Don’t have your thanksgiving service too soon, Mrs. Scally. He might come back.

MRS. S. Come on, John. We’ll watch till they put him in the trap anyway.

MRS. S. and JOHN go out.

MOLL. Och, hum, anee, oh! [Tears down the curtain.]

PADDY. Didn’t I give the mastiff Kilroy a good run for his money, master?

O’C. Very good indeed, Paddy. [He takes down uncle’s portrait, then points to the sideboard] Take those cups and things in to O’Hanlon, the vet, Paddy, and tell him to keep them for me till I write for them.… And you and Moll can carry away as much of the other stuff as you like.… I’m leaving Rush Hill to-night.

O’C. goes out with portrait. PADDY and MOLL exchange a long look, then turn back to back and weep quietly.

Curtain

ACT III

Same Scene as in Act I. The PROF. has returned from town. He is half asleep in a chair at the table. His valise is lying on the floor.

PEGGY comes in cautiously from the room. She has a hat and coat and suitcase, which she hides in the lower part of the cupboard.

PEGGY [regarding PROF.]. Gracious, wasn’t mother and the Kilroys foolish to think you’d go away?… Important engagement in London.… Wake up, uncle!

PROF. [looks around and scratches his head]. I wonder to Gawd where I’m now! Paris or London.…

PEGGY. You’re all right, uncle. You’re at home … in Ireland.

PROF. [parrot-like]. Pritty Peggy.… Pritty Peggy. Lent me three pounds at five per cent.… Rich or poor you’re my uncle, Peggy.… Full or empty, welcome home.… Order! [Sleeps.]

PEGGY. It’s perfectly hopeless. [Exit back.]

PROF. [sits up again]. Whisht, Kelly! By some dispensation of Providence you can sing none. Let me try it. [Sings.]

“I’m a daughter of Daniel O’Connell,
From England last week I sailed o’er;
The people to me are all strangers
And I don’t know my friends from my foes.”

[Scratching his head] If a man doesn’t know his friends from his foes he has only to come home broke. [Sleeps.]

JOHN comes in back. He is coatless and has the salley switch in his hand.

JOHN. Are you sleeping, Tim? [No answer.] Waken up, man! I’m going to cart you over to the other farm.…

PROF. Whisht, Kelly! You’re simply murdering that. Let me at it. [Sings]

“I must confess I am content, no more I wish to roam,

So steer my bark for Erin’s Isle, for Erin is my home.”

Gum, Kelly, I’m awful homesick! I’ll go home—if I should have to walk it!

JOHN. Poor fellow.

MRS. S. comes in from the room. She has her hair done and wears a shiny silk blouse and a conspicuous watch-chain.

MRS. S. Give him a shake, man! Don’t be so gentle with him.

JOHN. I could never cart this man across, Briget, in such a condition. He’s like a lump of wet putty.

MRS. S. You’ll take him over and close him in the barn, and he’ll stay there on bread and water till I give the order to release him. I’ll not have my plans upset by such a wandering vagabond. [She grabs the switch from JOHN and hits PROF. a lick.] Waken up! or I’ll lift the bark off you.

It has no effect.

JOHN. See that now, Briget. He’s paralysed.

MRS. S. And them Kilroys coming at six o’clock!

JOHN. If we could get him upstairs, Briget … and let him lie in the back room.…

MRS. S. [explodes and batters PROF.]. Get up! Rise! Wake up—or I’ll finish you!

JOHN [takes the switch from her]. Don’t do that, woman! Don’t hammer the unfortunate.

PROF. [awake]. What’s the row?

MRS. S. Get up.

PROF. Where am I? Who struck me with the marlin spike?

MRS. S. I did. Get up.

PROF. Hallo, sister Briget! Glad to see you. [Yawns.] I’m awful tired.

MRS. S. Well, there’s a room upstairs ready for you. Go up and lie down. John’ll help you up.

PROF. What time is’t?

MRS. S. It’s bed-time.

JOHN. Ah, no, Briget. It’s not six o’clock yet.

MRS. S. [to JOHN]. Big head!

PROF. [blinking]. I’m not going to bed at six o’clock.… Like in a reformatory.… I want a drink. I’m dry.…

MRS. S. You’ll get no drink here. Not a spark.

PROF. My valise! Where’s my valise?

MRS. S. It’s here. [To JOHN] Take it up to the back room, John. Quick now.

JOHN goes off with valise.

PROF. Come back here, Johnny? Come back, you little cutworm. [Draws knife.] Gum, I’ll teach you crofters’ manners. [Goes out after JOHN.]

MRS. S. Oh, sweet bad luck to you! And the same to big, windy Kilroy, for leaving you on the platform instead of flinging you into the train.…

PEGGY comes in back.

PEGGY. What’s wrong, mother?

MRS. S. What’s not wrong?

PEGGY. Where’s uncle Tim?

MRS. S. The last I saw of him he was chasing our father upstairs with a knife. This house is going straight to the devil.

PEGGY. Gracious, he might hurt father.

MRS. S. He hasn’t the least intention of hurting father! He knows soft John too well for that.

PEGGY. There’s always something wrong in this house.

MRS. S. Yes, and there’s something wrong with you, too! You’ve been flitting about all afternoon like a ghost. Don’t tell me you haven’t, for I’ve eyes in my head.

PEGGY. Well, mother, you do have some silly notions. You’d think I was only sixteen.

MRS. S. Your age has nothing whatever to do with it. You’re under my care till Joseph Kilroy takes you off my hand, then you’ll be your own mistress.

PEGGY. You’re making a sermon out of nothing.

MRS. S. Well, I’ll cut my sermon short. You’ll marry Joseph Kilroy before you’re a week older. His mother’ll be here in a few minutes, and I’ll make my own arrangements.… Go now and close the parlour windows and have everything ready for tea.…

JOHN comes in right shaking his head.

JOHN. By the hedges, that’s a case. He lay down on the parlour floor and fell asleep.

MRS. S. [shrieks]. Why did you let him in there? Go and fetch him out of that. Don’t you know the Kilroys have to sit in there! Drag him out.

JOHN. By hokey, I’ll do nothing of the kind, Briget.… He’s that long seafaring knife in his hand, and vows he’ll give somebody the length of it.… I’ll not face him anyway.…

MRS. S. You’ll not face him! [Blazing.] But I’m the lady ’ill face him! [Stalks to the room.]

Noise from the room.

JOHN. Your mother’s getting very hard to live with, Peggy. She’s out of one tantrum into another the whole year round. I’ve made myself an old man trying to humour that woman and keep peace in the house, but it’s going to beat me in the end.

Noise from MRS. S. and PROF.

PEGGY. Listen, father. She’s giving uncle Tim a great tongue thrashing.

JOHN. She won’t shift him. You might as well try to draw the badger.

PEGGY. I thought you were going to take him over to the other farm?

JOHN. The man’s not able to go anywhere! He wants about a month’s sleep. God knows when that man got a dacent sleep. Maybe not for years.

PEGGY. Well, it’s a pity, father. The Kilroys are coming and we can’t take them into the room.

JOHN. What’s the matter with this kitchen?

PEGGY. Not a thing, father. But Mrs. Kilroy’s coming.

JOHN. And who’s Mrs. Kilroy? Is she any better than the rest of us?

PEGGY. Not a whit. But she thinks she is.

JOHN. The priest sits in this kitchen. If it’s good enough for him it’s good enough for Mrs. Kilroy. If she doesn’t think so she needn’t sit down. I’m fair sick of vanity.

PEGGY. Just a word, father, before they come in. Don’t you sign any papers for James Kilroy. Hugh O’Cahan says they have nothing.

JOHN. Do you think I don’t know what Kilroy’s here for? Do you think I don’t know what all the match-making’s about? Ho, the very best. His ill-bred son wants a settlement and there’s nothing to settle him with.…

PEGGY. They shan’t settle him with me anyhow.

JOHN. You’re right, Peggy. If I was a nice educated girl like you I’d put a shirt on Hugh O’Cahan. He’s a man with all his faults; and the other’s a prig with all his virtues.

PEGGY. Father, I never thought you could size up people so well.

JOHN. I’m not as soft as I let on, Peggy. By minding my own business I’m a strong farmer. Kilroy by minding other people’s business is a weak one. He’d ruin me now like himself, but he won’t.… I won’t let him.

PEGGY. Mother ’ill be wild if you don’t sign.

JOHN. I know, Peggy. It means civil war. But I’m prepared for war. Your mother treated me very shabby this day. Before them Kilroys too. That’s what stomachs me. It was “Silence, John!” every time I opened my mouth. Your uncle Tim said I was only a scarecrow on my own land, and he wasn’t far wrong. But, by God, the scarecrow’s tired of his job!

MRS. S. comes in baffled and angry.

MRS. S. Have you pair been here ever since?

JOHN. We were waiting for you to bring out the invader, Briget.

MRS. S. But you couldn’t come in and give me a hand!

JOHN. I knew if you couldn’t shift him yourself, nothing could shift him.

MRS. S. [to PEGGY]. Nor you didn’t think it worth while to come!

PEGGY. I was afraid, mother. He was raveling in his sleep. You never knew what he’d do.

MRS. S. Well, put on your apron and lay the table. We’ll have to entertain the Kilroys in the kitchen.

PEGGY. All right, mother. [Gets cloth.]

MRS. S. [to JOHN]. Go you and leave your cowstick outside and put something clean on your neck. You’ll be sitting at the table with Mrs. Kilroy.

JOHN. That’s a great honour.… Peggy, is there a rag of a collar about the house?

PEGGY. Your collar and tie’s here. [Gets them from drawer.]

JOHN. Put them on me, like a good gerl. My hands is dirty.

MRS. S. And so is your face! Go out and wash your face and hands at the pump.

JOHN. I’ll attend to all that in a minute, Briget.

PEGGY puts collar and tie on JOHN. MRS. S. goes to room and returns with grand red chair.

MRS. S. If I’d a man like a man, and not a jinny, he’d soon clear the room! [Goes out for another chair.]

JOHN. She’s working herself up into a serious pucker, Peggy.

PEGGY. Never mind, father.

JOHN. I’m as much to blame as herself. I let her tramp over me at the start. Before you childer grew up I was servant gerl and all here.

MRS. S. comes in with another chair.

MRS. S. If my three sons were here they’d soon clear the room! [Goes out for a plant.]

JOHN. You’d think they weren’t my sons, too, to hear her.… If ever you marry, Peggy, never treat a man like that.

PEGGY. Now, now, father. Don’t get vexed with her. After all, she’s a good mother. And she improved you.…

JOHN. She improved me, but at a terrible price.

MRS. S. comes in with large plant.

MRS. S. If these strangers weren’t coming I’d give you pair a bit of my mind! [Staring at them] Are you going to stand there thumbing and fiddling till they walk in?

JOHN. Hurry up, Peggy.

PEGGY. There you are. I’m finished.

JOHN. I’ll go now and have a nice wash at the pump. [Goes out back.]

MRS. S. Get the tablecloth.

PEGGY [gets cloth]. Will you just give them tea in their hands?

MRS. S. I’ll see when the times comes. Straighten the cloth.

PEGGY puts on cloth. MRS. S. sets plant in centre.

PEGGY [going towards cupboard]. I’ll get out the cups.…

MRS. S. Never mind the cups. I’ll get them out myself. Put on your apron.

PEGGY gets an apron and watches MRS. S. nervously. MRS. S. opens cupboard and takes out tea-things. Finally she peers into the lower part and drags out PEGGY’S hat, coat and suitcase.

PEGGY. O—h!

MRS. S. [very calm]. What are these things doing here?

PEGGY [stiffly]. I don’t know.

MRS. S. When did you put them here?

PEGGY. I don’t know.

MRS. S. Perhaps they don’t belong to you?

PEGGY. I don’t know.

MRS. S. Since you don’t appear to know anything, I must find out for myself. [Tries to open suitcase.] Where’s the key of this bag?

PEGGY. I don’t know.

MRS. S. [flies into temper and tries to smash it]. I’ll smash more than the bag before I’ve finished! There’ll be no runaway matches in my house.…

JOHN hurries in back, drying his face with an old towel.

JOHN. Here they come, Briget! The Royal Procession. James and the wife and Joseph.

MRS. S. Go you and put on your hat and coat and meet them and put in the horse and throw that old towel out of your hand!

JOHN. By the hedges, there’s a fine string of orders! [Sees suitcase.] What’s this going on?

MRS. S. Step on and do what you’re told!

JOHN. Hokey tattler! [Going.] As Tim says, it’s like a house of correction. [Goes out back.]

PEGGY. Father’s getting pretty sick of all this stupid badgering. And so am I.

MRS. S. You are?

PEGGY. I am. It makes life a burden.

MRS. S. If these strangers weren’t coming in I’d give you and your father a lesson you wouldn’t forget.…

PROF. staggers in from room.

PROF. A drink of water, please.

MRS. S. Ooooooooh!

PROF. What’s the matter with you? Gum, you’d think you’d swallowed a tenpenny nail. [To PEGGY] A glass of water, pigeon.

MRS. S. grabs hold of PROF., runs him backward, and shoots him into the room. He is heard falling.

MRS. S. There’s a glass of water for you! [She picks up hat, coat and suitcase, pitches them into the room, and locks the door.] Now! we’ll see who’s mistress here. From this night forth I’ll rule with an iron rod.…

PEGGY. I hear someone coming in.…

MRS. S. smooths hair and dress and goes to back door. MRS. KILROY comes in. She is a big vain countrywoman, aged 45, and dressed in her very best.

MRS. S. W-ell, Mrs. Kilroy! At last! [They kiss lightly.] It’s a shame to bring you in this way, but the parlour’s turned upside down for the Professor coming.…

MRS. K. This is perfection. Nothing would do Mr. Kilroy but I should come over and see Peggy. He has raved all afternoon about Peggy. And for Joseph, I declare the boy’s half crazy.

MRS. S. This is Peggy herself … just in her apron. Peggy darling, this is Mrs. Kilroy.

MRS. K. [kissing PEGGY]. Your girls are all very good-looking, Mrs. Scally, but Peggy’s the pick of the bunch.

MRS. S. The people say that anyway. The others take more after the Scallys, but Peggy favours my own people. She has the Professor’s eyes.

MRS. K. Well, Peggy dear, I hope you’ll make Joseph a good wife. He’s very young and wild and foolish, but you’re a good sensible girl.

PEGGY. I’ll do my best.

MRS. K. That pleases me better than big promises. After all, it’s a great lottery.

MRS. S. Put off your things, Mrs. Kilroy.

MRS. K. I’ll put off this jacket, I’m warm. But I’ll keep on my hat. We haven’t long to stay.

She takes off jacket, showing a formidable dress and jewellery.

MRS. S. [taking jacket]. I’ll leave your jacket in the hall. Peggy, get Mrs. Kilroy a comfortable chair. [Goes out left.]

MRS. K. Peggy dear, won’t Rush Hill make a lovely home for you and Joseph?

PEGGY. Beautiful. [Gets chair for MRS. K.]

MRS. K. [sits]. I want to ask you one thing before your mother comes in. Joseph says Hugh O’Cahan walked in here this morning and threw down your presents and told you to make jam of them. Is that true, Peggy?

PEGGY. Quite true, Mrs. Kilroy.

MRS. K. Well, that relieves my mind more than words can say.… I hear he’s going off to-night, so you’re rid of him for life and for ever. You don’t happen to know where he’s going.

PEGGY. I think Australia.

MRS. K. That’s the place for him. The farther away the better. For I’d be afraid of Joseph quarrelling with him. Joseph’s that hasty.

MRS. S. comes in and locks door.

MRS. S. Are the men not in yet? [Sits.]

MRS. K. Oh, they’ll be looking at the cattle. Joseph’s a great judge of cattle. He was at the Agricultural College, you know. [To PEGGY] Peggy dear, would you mind telling them to come in? We haven’t long to stay, for Mr. Kilroy has a Council meeting to-night.…

PEGGY goes out back.

MRS. S. Your husband’s a very busy man.

MRS. K. Fearful! I hardly ever see him. Fairs and markets and council meetings and political meetings. You may guess, one of the childer asked him the other day—“Daddy, where do you live?”

MRS. S. He’s a great man.

MRS. K. And he thinks you’re a great business woman. But indeed I’ve heard many a one praising your management. So I want to ask you about the match. Are you content with everything?

MRS. S. And was from the very first. But what about yourself? Are you content?

MRS. K. Now that I’ve seen Peggy and talked to her, I’m more than content. I’m pleased and happy.

MRS. S. Thank goodness to hear that! We’ll have the wedding immediately.

MRS. K. That brings me to what I want to say, Mrs. Scally. James—I won’t call him Mr. Kilroy any more—tells me you’ve a brother a Professor coming here.

MRS. S. Yes. I’d a letter this morning.

MRS. K. Where does he reside usually?

MRS. S. He travels a great deal.

MRS. K. James said he thought he was a Professor in Edinboro’ University.

MRS. S. No, I don’t think he belongs to that University. He travels a great deal in foreign countries.

MRS. K. Well, dear, you’ll maybe think me a very vain woman. But I’d like to have the Professor at the wedding. It would give a bit of tone to it and lift it above the ordinary country wedding.

MRS. S. I’d like to have the Professor there myself. But it mightn’t fit in with his plans.

MRS. K. Could we not make our plans fit in with his?

MRS. S. Perhaps we could. I’ll see. If it can possibly be arranged I’ll have him at the wedding.

MRS. K. That’s grand. I’m glad I mentioned it. I’m content now.

PEGGY comes in back.

PEGGY. They’re coming in. They were looking at the new binder.…

KILROY, JOSEPH, and JOHN come in back. JOHN has on his black coat and hat.

KILROY. Well, have you ladies had a nice sumptuous crack about the latest hats and all the falderals?

MRS. S. We never mentioned a hat, James, nor a falderal. But we’d a very pleasant chat just the same.

KILROY [slapping wife’s shoulder]. Doesn’t this caretaker of mine wear well?

MRS. S. Remarkable! She’s still the best-looking woman and the best put-on woman that comes into the chapel.

KILROY. Do you hear that, Ellen? [Slaps.] And that’s from a lady that flatters nobody. [Slaps.] She’s as good as new, Briget.

MRS. K. Sit down now and behave yourself. If I was gone you’d have a young one before a week.

KILROY. Haha! She wouldn’t say that so gaily if she believed it.

MRS. S. Not a bit of her.… Now, Peggy, make the tea.

PEGGY sees them all seated at table, then starts making tea.

JOHN. Strong, Peggy. I want a good strong cup. [Holds his head.]

MRS. S. Joseph, you’re very quiet.

MRS. K. That’s because I’m here.

JOSEPH [mutters]. Awwwwwh! [Hangs his head.]

MRS. S. takes a bottle of wine and glasses from cupboard.

MRS. S. This won’t do anybody any harm. It’s only wine. [Pours a glass for each.] Will you have some, Peggy? It’s not every night this happens.

PEGGY. Thanks, mother. I’ll wait and have tea.

MRS. S. All right, dear. [Puts round the wine.]

KILROY [stands up]. I’m not going to make a speech. I’m only going to say a few words. Briget, I want you and my Ellen to be very great friends. Very great friends. In fact, this wedding ’ill make us more than friends. It’ll make us near relations.…

MRS. S. Hear, hear!

KILROY. With your own two farms and Rush Hill all lying in together, we practically own the landscape.…

PROF. makes a racket at room door.

PROF. [off]. Open this door!

KILROY [shudders but tries to proceed]. We’ll drink now to the prosperity of the young couple. That they may … may … may may.… [He can’t get another word.]

PROF. [giving door a heavy thud]. Open up, you clodhoppers! Or I’ll batter it down.

MRS. S. [in desperation]. Go on, James! Go on with your speech.…

KILROY. That they may … may … always … always … always … have the grace … grace … grace … to always.…

Another heavy smash on the door.

PROF. [off, yells]. Open! Open! Open this door.

MRS. K. [frightened]. In God’s holy name, who’s that?

PROF. [off, loudly]. It’s me! Professor Tim! Sister Briget has locked me in—trying to hide me! [Kicks the door.]

KILROY. Ah, Mrs. Scally! [Collapses on chair.]

MRS. S. [rising]. I may just as well tell the truth, Mrs. Kilroy. It’s my brother. And he’s no credit to me. He’s not the man I expected.

MRS. K. Not the Professor, is it?

PROF. [off]. It is the Professor! Professor Tim. Open up!

JOHN. You may open the door, Briget.

MRS. S. He’s not … not presentable.

JOHN. If you don’t open the door he’ll present himself. He’ll come through it.

MRS. S. [goes to open door]. Lie down on the sofa, Tim. And rest yourself. We’ve visitors.

PROF. [off]. Open up! Amn’t I a visitor, too?

MRS. S. Ah, this is cruel!

She unlocks door and PROF. comes in.

PROF. You thought you’d killed me, Briget. Eh?

MRS. S. Whisht, now.… You tripped over something.

PROF. I tripped over nothing at all. You gimme a heave that sent me heels over kettle.… Here, feel this lump.… [on his head].

MRS. S. Nonsense, Tim. You only imagine things.…

PROF. Imagination doesn’t raise a lump on a man’s head like an onion. [Fingers lump gingerly.]

MRS. S. Your head’s all wrong.

PROF. My head was all right till you smashed it.

MRS. S. [to company]. He’s half dazed.…

PROF. I’m whole dazed with that unmerciful fall you gimme. [Draws knife.] For two pins I’d slit you!

MRS. K. [screams]. Oh, James! he’s a knife.

MRS. S. runs away. PEGGY goes to PROF.

PEGGY. Give me that knife. [She gets knife.] I’ll keep it safe, uncle.

PROF. You’d better, pigeon. For that’s the knife I cut my food and baccy with.

PEGGY. Come and sit down.

PROF. [coming to table]. Hallo, all! Who’s this smashing big heifer in the hat?

MRS. K. [afraid]. James!

KILROY. It’s all right, Ellen. He’ll not touch you. [To PROF.] That’s my wife, sir, Mrs. Kilroy. Isn’t she a good specimen?

PROF. Gum, I should say so. She’s like a Burmese idol.

MRS. K. [jumps up]. James Kilroy, I’m going out of this place!

PROF. Sit down, dear. Sit down. I won’t eat you. You’re not my style of muslin.…

MRS. K. How dare you speak to me!… James Kilroy, both you and your son told me a parcel of lies! You told me this man was a Professor in Edinburgh University.…

PROF. Gum, that was a whopper.

MRS. K. And Mrs. Scally backed you up in deceiving me! [To MRS. S.] You and your Professor! A drunken sailor! [Marches out back.]

KILROY [rising]. Come back, Ellen. Don’t go away.… [To MRS. S.] Briget, get this man put out of the road. Put him in the churn and put the lid on him.… I’ll fetch Ellen back in a minute.… [Hurries out back.]

PROF. I’m tired. [Sits.]

JOSEPH. Will this matter to you and me, Peggy?

PEGGY. It won’t matter to me, Joseph.

JOSEPH. No, nor to me.… I don’t care if the Professor was ten times as bad a case.… Nor my father doesn’t care either.…

PROF. Nor your mother won’t care either, Joseph.… Wait till she hears what your father has to say outside. She’ll come in and eat out of my hand.…

JOSEPH. Awwwh!

PROF. What are you trying to say? Gum, if I strike you I’ll change the whole shape of your face. You oaf.

MRS. S. Tim, I’ll forgive you a lot if you go and lie down in the room for half an hour.…

PROF. I don’t think you’ve a great lot to forgive.… I think I’m the injured party.…

KILROY and MRS. K. come in back. He is very red and embarrassed, she very crestfallen.

KILROY. We’re all right now. Sit down, Ellen. Sit down.

KILROY and MRS. K. resume their places at table.

PROF. Mrs. … Mrs. … Kilroy, I apologise. I’ll behave myself like a gentleman and a scholar. I’m tired.

KILROY. There now, Ellen. He won’t bother us again. He’s not that bad after all. [Takes up glass.] Come on now. Let’s all be the best of friends. Here’s luck and prosperity and wedding bells. Drink up, Ellen.…

All drink.

PEGGY. Uncle, will you have some wine?

PROF. No, dear. I’ve the pledge, for life.

MRS. S. Tea, Peggy.

PEGGY is pouring out tea when MR. ALLISON comes in back. He has a bundle of papers in his hand.

ALLISON. Well, Professor, are you still here?

PROF. No, I’m evaporated.

KILROY. Nothing wrong, Mr. Allison?

ALLISON. Not a thing the matter, James. I was over at your place and was told you were here. The Bank wants this agreement signed by you and John Scally to-night.…

JOHN. Me! What does the Bank want me to sign?

MRS. S. Silence, John!

JOHN. This is too sarious for silence! [To ALLISON] What business have you or the Bank with me?

MRS. S. James Kilroy bought Rush Hill on the understanding that you would go in with him as security.…

JOHN. James Kilroy never mentioned the like to me!

MRS. S. But he mentioned it to me! I said you’d do it and you shall!

JOHN [bouncing up]. Well, I’m cursed if I shall!

PROF. Bully Johnny! Your “shall’s” not geographically correct, but that’s only a detail.

JOHN. I know myself what I mean. I’ll sign no bills! No bills. [Sits.]

MRS. S. Mr. Allison, have you the papers here?

ALLISON. Yes, ma’am. [Takes paper from bundle.]

MRS. S. Hand it to me and a pen.

ALLISON [gives her both]. Your husband signs there [points].

PROF. Now, Johnny! You’re going to get your new spine tested.

MRS. S. [places pen and paper under JOHN’S nose]. John Scally, you never disobeyed me since the morning I married you! I told James Kilroy to buy Rush Hill and you would sign this paper. He’s making a home for your daughter. Now then. Take the pen in your hand and write your name.…

JOHN [wavering]. I’d rather not, Briget.…

MRS. S. Lift the pen!

JOHN [picks up pen, he is trembling violently]. I know nothing about Banks or bills.…

MRS. S. Write your name!

JOHN [hesitating]. I know in my heart I shouldn’t do this.…

PROF. Johnny Scally! if you sign that paper every small boy in the parish ’ll laff at you.

JOHN [throws down pen and jumps up]. I’m cursed over again if I sign it! [Sweeps pen and paper and tumblers off table.] Take the whole thing away to blazes out of my sight and sign it yourselves!

PROF. Bully Johnny! That’s the first time I’ve ever seen you in pants.

JOHN [raging]. I’ll not be made a scarecrow of any longer! Nobody ever signed a bill for me, and I’ll sign nothing for no man! [Sits down.]

MRS. S. I’ll not affront myself before these people, John, but I’ll make you rue this night’s work.

JOHN. From this night forth—aye, from this minute—you’ll take your own place in this house and I’ll take mine!

PROF. Sit down, sister. You’re beaten to the ropes. Your despotic reign is over. Johnny’s cock of the walk.

O’C. comes in back. He wears a tweed suit and has an overcoat and suitcase.

O’C. I apologise for interrupting the picnic. But I want one word with you, Mr. Allison.

ALLISON. Shall we go outside?

O’C. It isn’t necessary. I’m going off to-night. There’s the key of Rush Hill. That’ll save you any trouble.

ALLISON [taking key]. O’Cahan, you’re a prince.

O’C. Don’t mention it.

PEGGY goes off quietly to the room.

ALLISON. I’ve a car, Hugh. Won’t you let me drive you in?

O’C. I’ll be very glad of a lift. I don’t think I ever walked to town in my life. [Turns to JOHN] John, I owe you forty pounds for a foal.

JOHN [angrily]. You owe me nothing! You buried the foal.…

O’C. [taking out roll of money]. You couldn’t help that, John. It might as readily have won the Derby. There’s your money. [Lays it on the table.]

JOHN. Will you take a luckpenny?

O’C. A luckpenny for a dead foal! Ah, John, that’s too thin!

JOHN. Will you let me shake hands with you?

O’C [holding out his hand]. I’m very glad you want to, John. [They shake.]

JOHN. Good-bye, Hugh. And remember this: John Scally always wished you well.

O’C. Thanks, John. I always thought so.

PEGGY comes in dressed for travelling.

PEGGY. Now, Hugh. Are you ready?

MRS. S. [jumps up]. What! Where are you going, Peggy?

PEGGY. I don’t really know yet. Wherever Hugh’s going.

PROF. Bully Peggy?

MRS. S. Peggy Scally, you’re mad! You won’t cross the threshold this night!

PEGGY. Hugh, I’m going with you. Take me out of this.

O’C. I will, Peggy, and I don’t think anyone present—or all of them—will try to stop me.

PROF. Now, Joseph, there’s a chance for you to get knocked flat.

MRS. S. John Scally, save your daughter! She won’t heed me any more.

JOHN [rising]. Do nothing rash, Peggy. You’re a good girl.

PEGGY. I’m doing nothing rash, father. I was engaged to Hugh O’Cahan when he had plenty. I’m going with him now when he has nothing.

PROF. Gum, she’s a thick and thinner.

JOHN. By the hedges, she put that plain and dacent. I’m proud of my Peggy.… Hugh O’Cahan, you don’t know what you’re getting. It’s not because she’s my daughter. But no man in the world is good enough for Peggy Scally to clean her feet on.

O’C. That’s the one thing I do know, John.

JOHN. But she’s going with you, and I won’t try to stop her.… Lord, I wish you were staying at home … that I could see Peggy whiles.… But here’s an offer. You’ll stay here another week and get married decently, and I’ll give Peggy her fortune.

O’C. You’re manly, John. You always were. But I won’t take any fortune with Peggy. I want to throw off my coat and vest and work.… I’m going to prophesy now. [He looks at the KILROYS] You people have got Rush Hill. But if I live I’ll come back and root you out of it! If I die a son of mine will come back and root you out of it! But I believe I’ll come back myself, and bring Peggy back to Rush Hill.

PROF. That’s inspiration. If a man holds on to that he can crush the earth like an eggshell. He can break the Wheel that tried to break him.

JOHN. Peggy, you and me was always the best of friends. I never seen your frown. Won’t you make Hugh wait here another week?

PEGGY. We’ll do as father says, Hugh.

O’C. Right you are, Peggy. You’re the law and the prophets.

JOHN. Hugh O’Cahan, I’ll say out before all these people what was always in my mind. I always had a great grah for you. You were a wild fella but a good fella. You as good as gimme a brown mare that has made me a power of money with her foals.…

O’C. Never mind about the brown mare, John. I took a profit on her. Tell us some of the wild deeds.

JOHN. Well, you went too fast, Hugh. That’s the short way of putting it.

PROF. That takes in wine, women, and cards.…

JOHN. And leppin’ horses.

O’C. How much, John, do you reckon I’ve spent on wine, women and cards and leppin’ horses since my uncle died?

JOHN. Some says fifty thousand pounds, and some twice that.

O’C. Mr. Allison, how much has the Bank against Rush Hill?

ALLISON. Four thousand pounds!

O’C. How much had the Bank against it when uncle Hugh died?

ALLISON. The same—four thousand pounds.

O’C. There you are, John. It isn’t hard to earn a local reputation for riotous living. As a matter of fact, I never had the ghost of a chance.

JOHN. By the hedges, I’d rather hear that than a thousand pound! [Sits down.]

PROF. Come and sit down, Hugh. Gum, I’m proud of my sex. A young Irishman’s the noblest work of God.

O’C. sits.

KILROY [rising]. Mr. Allison, I want to speak to you.

KILROY and ALLISON go out back.

PEGGY [puts off coat and hat]. Shall I pour out the tea, mother?

PROF. Gum, she’s a cool one. As the poet says, “Mistress of herself, though china fall.”

MRS. K. No tea for me. My jacket, please!

MRS. S. I’ll get it. [Goes out for it.]

MRS. K. Go and put the horse in the trap, Joseph. You’ve had a very narrow escape.…

JOSEPH [rising]. I’ve Rush Hill anyway. And I can marry any gerril I like in two counties. I don’t want anybody’s leavings.… [Going to the door back] Look at this circus.…

JOSEPH stands aside to allow MOLL and PADDY to come in. Both have been weeping. MOLL is still sniffing audibly. She has on the new hat and dress, carries a big, ungainly bundle, and has a cat in a basket. PADDY has a saddle and bridle and other riding tackle strung about him.

MOLL [not seeing O’C.]. We’ve seen the last av him … and the last av Rush Hill. [Sniffs.] Och, hum! we’re all homeless this night, and broken-hearted as a motherless colt.… May the holy saints—Colum, Patrick, and Brigid—be with him wherever he goes.…

O’C. Amen, Moll. The saints are all here.

MOLL. Oh, sweet heavens! Gimme another look at you.… [Peering at him] I can hardly see you for my crying eyes.…

PEGGY [placing a chair]. Sit down, Moll, and take a good look at him.… What have you got in the basket?

MOLL. Ach, sure it’s the cat. Toby. We couldn’t lave him behind us to be starved and beaten to death by the Kilroys. [Sits.] Och, hum.

JOSEPH. Awwwwh! [Goes out.]

PEGGY [with a chair]. Sit down, Paddy. We’re having tea.

PADDY [sits]. It’s good to be all here—if only for a minute—as the swallows light on the road.

MRS. K. [loudly]. My jacket! My jacket!

MRS. S. comes in with jacket.

MRS. S. This is getting a very distinguished gathering!

PROF. “Go ye out into the highways and byeways,” etc., etc.

JOHN. Briget, don’t be harsh. They’ve no home. Moll Flanagan has the homeless cat in that basket. That’s a lesson to us all.

MRS. S. You’d think to hear you that I was a hard-hearted woman. But I’ll let you see our mistake. If Peggy’s going away I’ll keep Moll Flanagan and the cat as long as they like to stay.

JOHN. Good, Briget. I know’d the homeless cat would touch the heart.… And Paddy could give the boys a hand with the harvest.…

PEGGY. Moll, I’m going away with Hugh. Will you stay here till I send for you?

MOLL. I will—if it was fifty years!

O’C. Paddy, you can hang around here, too, and give John a hand with the horses, till you hear from me. That won’t be long.

PADDY. Right, master. It can’t be too soon for me. [Pulls the hat over his eyes.]

PROF. [rising]. Lucky devil, O’Cahan! Youth, love, friendship, devotion, and the cat for luck.… My valise.… Gum, I’m dry. [He goes to the room.]

MRS. K. Mrs. Scally, I’ll take my jacket now. You’ll have a fine collection here after a bit.…

MRS. S. [giving her jacket]. Thank God, Mrs. Kilroy, there’s plenty for them to eat. And we’ll not ask you to bail us if we want more.…

JOHN. Holy tattler! That’s a posey! Outrageous, Briget! Atrocious!

KILROY and ALLISON come in. KILROY has a paper in his hand.

KILROY [to JOHN]. Now, Scally, as man to man—will you go bail with me and two other good men for Rush Hill?

MRS. S. He’ll do nothing of the sort. John has more good sense than all in the house. I just see that now, that bail’s a near cut to the poor-house.

JOHN. Thank you, Briget.

KILROY. That ends it. [Tears the agreement.] The deal’s off, Allison. You can give Rush Hill to some of your Freemason friends. My opinion is you never wanted me to get it.

ALLISON. You carry the sting in your tail, James. But for once in a way you’re right. I didn’t want you to get it. Nor any of my Freemason friends either. I wanted Rush Hill to remain with O’Cahan. And it does!

O’C. Allison … Sam … that’s a cruel sort of joke.…

ALLISON. It’s no joke, young man. I don’t make jokes like that. [Holds up papers.] It’s all here. The deeds and documents of Rush Hill. Your mortgages are paid—a clean wipe out.

O’C. [gasping]. Allison … you wouldn’t.… I know you wouldn’t.…

ALLISON [looking round]. Where’s the Professor?

PEGGY. He’s in the room.

ALLISON [lowering his voice]. We people have been making sad fools of ourselves. Mrs. Scally, you ought to’ve known better. You knew the brother was always a little eccentric.… The man’s a real Professor of Geology. A big man in the world. And very wealthy. He’s tons of it.

MRS. S. My God! has he been acting?

ALLISON. Aye, and doing it not badly. I tell you I was with him in the Bank for two hours, and ’twas an eye-opener to me. He’s been in the East—Chief of a Geological Expedition—and he’s worth a pot of money.

JOSEPH comes in back with eyes bulging.

JOSEPH. Lord save us! There’s a waggon-load of stuff come for the Professor—trunks, bags, golf sticks, and fishing-rods—like a load of hay!

JOSEPH runs out again.

ALLISON. I told you so.

PROF. comes in from the room, suitably dressed, a touch of distinction about himself and his clothes.

PROF. I’ve some luggage at the front door. But I’ve told the man to wait. Part of it is going over to Rush Hill, and part of it staying here. [With a quaint smile] I’ve been enjoying myself. But my little experiment is at an end. On the whole it has yielded good results. I’ve found some hearts of gold.

ALLISON [handing him papers]. You’ve the deeds and old mortgages all there, Professor. Some of them haven’t seen daylight for a hundred years.

JOSEPH comes in quietly at back.

PROF. [takes papers]. Give me the key. [ALLISON gives key.] Come here, Peggy. [She goes to him.] You gave me a kindly welcome to-day, and three pounds. Do you remember?

PEGGY. Y-es.

PROF. There’s part of your reward. [Hands her papers and key.] A wedding present.

PEGGY [after a pause]. Uncle … I’m going to cry.…

PROF. Ah, Peggy, don’t be so obvious. Tears are as common as rain-water. Do something original.

PEGGY. Can I do with these what I like, uncle?

PROF. Do with them whatever you please, Peggy. Light your pipe with them.

PEGGY [hands all to O’C.]. You’re a great prophet, dear. Without going away you’re coming back to Rush Hill.… Say something, Hugh.

O’C. damps his lips and tries to speak, but in vain.

PROF. Don’t open your lips, young man, or your heart ’ill fly out. I can hear it beating against the roof of your mouth.

PEGGY [petting him]. Try again, Hugh. [O’C. shakes his head.] You see, uncle, he hasn’t had much practice in thanking his lucky stars. That’s why he can’t speak now. He’s so much finer in defeat.

PROF. It depends on what a man’s best used to, Peggy.

O’C. [shaking himself]. I can speak now. [Shakes hands with PROF.] I suppose I may call you uncle?

PROF. Yes, it’s only a little ante-dated.

O’C. It’ll take some time for me to realise what has happened. For the last ten days I’ve been like a blind man. One smash coming after another, old friends disappearing as if by magic, and the future as black as the inside of a cloud. Leaving Rush Hill to-night was like walking out to be hanged.

PROF. Sonny, you please me well. You pleased me to-day at the auction, when the world was falling in pieces about your ears. That’s when a man stands out. Not when he’s eating strawberries and cream. If you call a boy after me I’ll put six figures to his name.

ALLISON. And never miss it!

PADDY. In sowl, at that rate, we’ll call a dozen for him.

MOLL. Pad-ee! have some morals.

PROF. For the rest of my life I want to spend half time in this house and the other half at Rush Hill. Can I have a room there facing the south?

O’C. Can Peggy and I have a room there facing anywhere? The rest belongs to you. Peggy and I are your tenants.

PROF. Good. I’ll be a bachelor and a family man combined. We can have everything we want at Rush Hill. And Peggy the undisputed boss of the show. You hear that, Peggy!

PEGGY. I should think I do, uncle.… And you hear it, Hugh? No more double-banks or champion stone walls. I don’t want to be left a widow at Rush Hill.

O’C. Before all these witnesses, Peggy, I hand you the whip and the reins. [Gives PADDY the key.] Take the key, Paddy, and turn up the lights. I’ll be over after you directly.

PADDY. Come on, Moll Flanagan. Get into your gear. I’m sorry I bought you all that finery.… Bring Toby and all with you.…

MOLL [struggling to her feet]. Oh, Lord above! The torrents of joy’s killing me.…

PEGGY gets PADDY and MOLL ready for the road.

PROF. Paddy Kinney!

PADDY. Yes, your honour, Professor.

PROF. You gave me two shillings to-day.

PADDY [embarrassed]. Ah, God forgimme, Professor! Sure I thought you were as poor as myself.

PROF. I’ll give you two hundred pounds if you kiss Moll Flanagan in that hat and dress.

PADDY. Well, in sowl, it’s a big lump of money.…

MOLL. Daar ye! Daar ye!

PADDY kisses MOLL.

PROF. I’ll give you five hundred pounds, Paddy, and build you a cottage if you marry Moll Flanagan inside thirty days.

PADDY. Well, you’ll pay that bonus, Professor, in one fortnight.

MOLL. I wouldn’t like to say but you’re right, Paddy. For that bonus would drive anyone to it.

PADDY. Come on, then. You’re going to get me after all.… Turn your head for home. We left Rush Hill, carriage paid for destruction, and we’re going back to begin a golden age.… Good bless Professor Tim!

MOLL. Amen. May he live for ever.

PADDY and MOLL go out back.

KILROY [rising]. We may as well go home, Ellen.

PROF. James Kilroy, you’re a good Irishman. You put a pound note in my hand at the station.…

KILROY. I wish from my heart I’d had nothing to do with Rush Hill.

PROF. Sit down, James, and smoke a cigar.

JOHN. Sit down, James.

KILROY sits down.

PROF. Peggy, you’ll find a box of cigars in my valise.

PEGGY. All right, uncle. [Goes into the room.]

PROF. Hugh, would you mind telling Peggy it’s the small flat box I want?

O’C. The mild ones.… [Goes to room scratching his head.]

ALLISON. May I stay and smoke a cigar, Professor?

PROF. I’ll be very glad if you will.

MRS. K. Keep up your heart, Joseph. Mrs. Scally has more daughters than Peggy.

JOSEPH. I’d marry any of the other three … any one of them that would have me.

PROF. You’re what’s called a marrying man, Joseph.

JOSEPH. Yes, sur.

PEGGY comes in with cigars, followed by O’C., who hands her a sidecomb.

PEGGY. Joseph, you ought to set your cap for Susan. I know she likes you, and she’s been frightfully jealous of me.…

JOSEPH [brightening]. Will you speak to Susan for me, Peggy?

PEGGY. I will indeed, Joseph.

JOSEPH. Mrs. Scally, will you speak for me, too?

MRS. S. [in a low voice]. I’ll see, Joseph. [Pause.] If God spares me, I mean to talk less.… [Rising] I’ll go to my room for half an hour.… I’m feeling upset.…

PEGGY [throwing her arms round MRS. S.’S neck]. Mother! don’t leave us! [Sets her down and kisses her.] Sure you’ve made us all what we are!… Come here, Hugh, and kiss mother.

PROF. That’s a tall order, Hugh.

O’C. Not before the crowd, Peggy. But some other time [shaking hands with MRS. S.]. My dear mother, you’re the only living thing I was ever afraid of. And that was because I was very often ashamed of myself.

MRS. S. God bless you, Hugh. I was always anxious about Peggy.

JOHN. By the hedges, it’s grand! It’s outrageous. Atrocious!

PEGGY. And uncle Tim has had his little joke, mother. He must have counted the cost and known what to expect—especially if he took snuff.

PROF. [chuckling]. Gum, yes. I got off very lightly, more so than I deserved.… Shake hands, sister Biddy. [They shake.] Like every good Irish mother, you’ve a sharp tongue and a good vocabulary. And it needs both to bring up a big family of boys and girls.

MRS. S. [drying her eyes]. We’ve seven of the best children in the world.

JOHN. As straight as seven dies.

PROF. Glad to hear it. And glad to be home. Have a cigar, friends? I bought these cigars in Bombay.

THE END

PAUL TWYNING

A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS

CHARACTERS

PAUL TWYNING | A Tramp-plasterer
JAMES DEEGAN | A Farmer and Magistrate
DAN DEEGAN | His Son
PATRICK DEEGAN | Another Son, a Publican
MRS. DEEGAN | Patrick’s Wife
JIM DEEGAN | Patrick’s Son
DENIS M’GOTHIGAN | A Farmer
ROSE M’GOTHIGAN | His Daughter
DAISY MULLAN | A returned American
MR. O’HAGAN | A Solicitor

ACTS I AND III: | JAMES DEEGAN’S kitchen
ACT II: | PAT DEEGAN’S Public-house

The first performance of Paul Twyning took place at the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, on 3rd October 1922, with the following cast:

Paul Twyning | BARRY FITZGERALD
James Deegan | GABRIEL J. FALLON
Dan Deegan | MICHAEL J. DOLAN
Patrick Deegan | P. J. CAROLAN
Mrs. Deegan | MAY CRAIG
Jim Deegan | TONY QUINN
Denis M’Gothigan | ERIC GORMAN
Rose M’Gothigan | EILEEN CROWE
Daisy Mullan | CHRISTINE HAYDEN
Mr. O’Hagan | PETER NOLAN

The Play was produced by Lennox Robinson

ACT I

Scene: JAMES DEEGAN’S new kitchen. The walls are raw and the doors and windows unpainted, for the building is still unfinished.

At the back are a door and windows to the farmyard; another door L. to rooms. The fireplace is on the R., and a little beyond it is a cupboard, built in the wall.

A table, an old armchair, and a few ordinary chairs have been brought over from the old house and are piled up in a corner.

Time: A July night, about dusk.

PAUL TWYNING, in white jacket and overalls, is mixing mortar on the floor with a shovel.

OLD DEEGAN [off]. Anybody here?

PAUL. Yes, your worship; Paul’s here.

JAMES DEEGAN, J.P., a tall, grave old man, dressed in Gladstonian style, comes in from the yard.

OLD DEEGAN. Paul Twyning, I want to speak a word.

PAUL. Well, your worship?

OLD DEEGAN [irritably]. I have told you repeatedly not to “worship” me, sir! I’m not on the Bench now.

PAUL. Well, sure I can’t bring myself to address you like an ordinary man. Let me call you “your honour.” Sure, south of the Boyne a big man like yourself—a farmer and magistrate—is called “your honour,” and looks for it.

OLD DEEGAN. We in the North are more democratic.… But that’s not my errand here. What I want to know is—when will you be through with this plastering?

PAUL. In three or four days, master, if I’m spared the health. I’m now at the cornishing in the parlour-room, and, as you see, I’m working overtime and attending myself.

OLD DEEGAN. The sooner you’re done and out of this the better.

PAUL. Of coorse! That’s a tradesman’s thanks the world over.

DEEGAN. When I took you in—a tramp off the highway—it was to plaster my house, not to meddle in my family affairs.

PAUL. Mr. Deegan, your honour, d’ye mean that? Is it in dead earnest you are?

DEEGAN. Certainly so.

PAUL. And when and how did I meddle in your family affairs? Out with it, now, for I won’t lie under it.

DEEGAN. You had my son Daniel at a dance in M’Gothigan’s barn and without my permission.

PAUL. But your other son—Pat, that has the pub. in the town—was at the dance himself and supplied the drink.…

DEEGAN. That was a business transaction. Besides, Patrick is a married man, but this lad at home is single.

PAUL. But the M’Gothigans are respectable people, and your lad, as you call him, is over forty years of age.…

DEEGAN. My son Daniel is—like all the young men of his generation—graceless and without understanding.

PAUL. Well, of coorse, I only know him a short time, your honour, but I’d formed a very high opinion of Dan.

DEEGAN. No doubt.… But a tramp’s opinion of respectability and mine are different. [Sternly.] I don’t want a daughter-in-law of your choosing, sir!

PAUL. Nor, I suppose, of Dan’s either, your honour?

DEEGAN. You have said it. Daniel will have no choice. [Turning to go] I’m going now to interview a suitable female to be his wife, and if she suits me, she’ll have to suit him, and you, and the M’Gothigans. [He goes out back.]

PAUL. Well, begorry, I’ve tramped Ireland, England, and parts of Scotland, but there is the worst specimen of the landed aristocracy I’ve met.… That’s the sort of democrats the Land League left behind it. [Shouts.] Hi, Dan! You may emerge from your rat-hole. Ould Clanricarde has gone out.

DAN DEEGAN comes in back. He is a wild-visaged man of medium height, with hair turning from grey to whiteness. He is clothed a few degrees worse than a hired servant, and moves with quick, furtive gestures.

DAN. What did my fader say, Paul? In God’s name, amen.

PAUL. Well, he seems to think, Dan, you’ve been sporting your figure at M’Gothigan’s dance.…

DAN. Flames, has he heard I was there? What did he say? Did he mention Rose? Quick, man, for your sowl, and tell a buddy.

PAUL. Oh, he knows all about your love affair, Dan. But I must say he took a very wide view of it. He says what is very true—that you have to marry some time and why not now?

DAN. My sowl, that is a wide view!

PAUL. He also says that you were always a headstrong lad, and he supposes if you’ve made Rose M’Gothigan a promise that you’ll stick to it.…

DAN [excited]. Did he say that, Paul? Did he call me a stubbornt fella?

PAUL. Stiff-necked and stubborn were the words he used.

DAN. I’m in flames, but he’s right! I was always as stiff as a mule if I took a thing in my head.… But I didn’t speak the word to Rose, Paul.…

PAUL. Eh! Is that the next of it? Let you answer me a few simple questions. Didn’t you sit beside her last night till the cocks were crowing this morning?

DAN. I did, heth.

PAUL. And didn’t you hold her hand for hours at a stretch?

DAN. I’ll never deny it.

PAUL. And didn’t you slip her a conversation-lozenger with the inscription upon it:

“I love you very dearly,
And if you love me,
In spite of wind and weather
We shall married be.”

DAN. I did, heth. And she read it and laft her fill.

PAUL. And then you have the nerve to stand there and tell me you’re not engaged!

DAN [confused]. Does Rose think I axed her?

PAUL. Aye, and what is more important, her father and mother both maintain that you axed her.…

DAN. Oh, flames! has it went that far?

PAUL. But they all know the sort of James Deegan, J.P. They know you can’t bring a wife in here without his consent.…

DAN. Is that gospel true, Paul? Would Rose and her fader and mother agree to wait?

PAUL. Rose is only in the bud, and can afford to wait as long as you like.

DAN. Then, I’m in flames, but that settles it! I’ll see Rose this night, afore I lay my side to a bed, and settle the match.… That’s the sort of me. If ever I made up my mind to do a thing, I always tore through it like a mad bull with the cholic.

PAUL. Now that’s bould, headstrong talk. Now I like the way you lowered your brows when you said that. I never saw such determination in my life.…

DAN [lowers his brows]. I can look very detarmint when I like.… I wish I’d done it twenty-five years ago.… I’ve been the wee boy too long. But I’ve turned Turk at last.

PAUL. Well, that will do for the present, Dan. [Looks about the floor] See if I left my spatula in the room. [DAN goes into the room.] Poor Dan! Your battering-ram expression will change quickly once ould Bismarck comes in.…

DAN [comes in with spatula]. Is that your bottle in the room, Paul?

PAUL. That’s a souvenir of M’Gothigan’s dance. Fetch it here, Dan, and we’ll celebrate your betrothal.

DAN goes into the room and returns with a bottle.

DAN [spelling the name on the label]. “Pathrick Degan … Boar’s Head, Ballybullion.”… This is my brother Pat’s whiskey, Paul.

PAUL. It’s nothing the better of that, Dan. Get a cup. [DAN gets a cup and PAUL pours a dose.] Toss it off quickly now, before it explodes in your hand.

DAN. Here’s to Rose herself, Paul.… Angels guard her, amen. [Drinks and wreathes violently.] I’m in flames, but that’s torpentine!

PAUL [pours a drink for himself]. Here’s every day to you, Dan. May yourself and Rose live for ever. [Drinks.] Faith, sowl, that’s your brother’s whiskey sure enough. You might as well swallow a torchlight procession.

DAN. Well, he said he made it spacial for the dance.

PAUL. And so he did—he took too much pains with making it! Take it away now. [DAN leaves the bottle in the room and comes back.] Get me some water, Dan, for this cement.…

DAN. Here’s the bucket.… [Goes out to the yard.]

PAUL. Rose M’Gothigan ought soon to be showing up, just if she hasn’t changed her mind.

DAN rushes in.

DAN. Paul, Paul Twyning! Who’s coming down the road? And all by her lone! Guess!

PAUL. Oh, I could never guess, Dan, in twenty years. I give it up.

DAN. Rose herself.… May I never do what’s sinful.… And she’s taking every look at the new house. Now’s my chance, Paul.

PAUL. Tell me this quickly. Do you feel that nip of special in your head yet?

DAN. No, but I feel it in my feet. It’s flying down to my toes.… Will I go out and put the spake on her?

PAUL. And a nice posy y’are to put the speak on anyone! Look at the dirt of your face. And where is the blue dicky you wore at the dance?

DAN. It should be here. [Takes an old rag of a dicky from the cupboard.] I hid it in here this morning when I come in from the dance.

PAUL. Put the dicky on your neck and give the face a rub with a wet rag, and I’ll invite Rose in to see the house.…

DAN. But what am I to say, Paul? How am I to seal the match? I never did the like afore.

PAUL. I believe I’ve a ring here that I picked up many years ago at Lisdoonvarna. [Takes a ring from his pocket.] It mayn’t be eighteen carat, Dan, but it’s better than no ring at all. [He gives DAN the ring.] Put that on her finger, Dan, and she’s yours till the sands of the desert grow cold.

DAN. What finger, Paul?

PAUL. Oh, she’ll hould out the correct finger, never fear you.

DAN. But if it wouldn’t fit, Paul?

PAUL. Then try some of the others. Put it on any finger it fits. The main thing is to get it on.

DAN. But what am I to say, Paul? How does other people do it?

PAUL. There is no cut-and-dry formula, Dan. Some proposes with tears in their eyes, and others with their eyes tight shut. And some says one thing and some another. But in your case, something like this might do: “Rose dear, after long and serious consideration, I’ve decided to ask you to be Mrs. Dan Deegan. Now or never, Rose, will you marry me?”

DAN. Sowl, that’s fine talk, Paul. You’re a handy boy wi’ the tongue.

PAUL [going]. When you’re nicely groomed and the face scrubbed, sing a lilt of a song, and I’ll fetch Rose in. [He goes out back.]

DAN [scrubbing his face]. Rose dear, after long and sarious confederation, I’ve decided to ask you to be my wedded wife. [Shakes his head.] I don’t think that’s Paul’s version of it.… [Struggles with the dicky.] Is confederation or conflageration the best word?… Och, what odds about a word? She’ll know what I mean, and that’s the main thing. [Gets the dicky fastened, and sings.]

“No pipe I’ll smoke, no horse I’ll yoke,

Till my plough with rust turns brown:

Till a smiling maid, by my own fireside,

Sits the star of the County Down.”

PAUL and ROSE M’GOTHIGAN come in back. ROSE is a pretty girl, aged twenty.

PAUL. By glory above, Dan, you’ve a voice like a piccolo. About a fortnight in Italy would make you perfect.

DAN. Och, you’re only sconcing me, Paul. I wasn’t singing that well at all. [Shakes hands with ROSE.] Morra, Rose. You’re welcome there. How are you feeling after the ball?

ROSE. The best, Dan. How’s yourself?

DAN. Oh, as right as the mail. [Shakes his head.] We’d a big night, Rose.… The biggest night ever I put in.

ROSE. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Dan. [Looks about] This is a fine big kitchen.

DAN. Heth, sowl, it’s big enough. It’s like a gaol-yard.

ROSE. It wants for nothing, Dan.

DAN. Oh, it’s very complete, Rose.

PAUL. Now that’s where you’re wrong, the pair of you. It is by no means complete. It wants the main feature. Wait and I’ll explain what I mean. [Brings the old armchair to the fireside.] Now, my decent girl, subside into that chair.…

ROSE. Oh, Paul, I haven’t a minute.

PAUL. But I won’t keep you a second. I only want to let Dan see what I’m driving at. [ROSE sits down.] There now. The kitchen is no longer a gaol. ’Tis a home sweet home.

DAN [chortling]. Sowl, Paul, it takes yourself.

PAUL. Now, Rose, I’ll ask you one simple question. If Dan had no one but himself in the world, wouldn’t you be content to fill that chair for life and for ever?

ROSE. I suppose I would.

DAN. And it’s my mother’s chair, too, Rose. Rest her in pace, amen.

PAUL. There you are now, Dan. Yourself and Rose are half engaged already. So I’ll give you a few minutes to settle it in the usual way, and then I’ll come back.

He goes to the room door, but is seen to listen.

DAN [after an awkward pause]. This was a fine growing day, Rose.

ROSE. It was a bit hot about twelve.

DAN. Aye, it was like rain in the forenoon.… I was in the moss all day.

ROSE. I was working in the hay.

DAN. How’s it cutting, Rose?

ROSE. Oh, fairly well, I think.

DAN. Boys, we’d a big night last night, Rose. You were the belle of the ball.

ROSE. Och, you’re only saying that, Dan.

DAN. I’m saying nothing of the kind, Rose. It’s the holy truth. You were the belle.

ROSE. The people was all remarking you and me talking, Dan.

DAN. Let them remark their fill. They’ll maybe remark more than that afore long. [After a painful effort] Rose dear, after long and sarious confederation, I’ve decided to make you Mrs. Dan Deegan. Now or never, Rose, will you marry me?

ROSE. Oh, Dan, we needn’t talk.

DAN. Why, Rose?

ROSE. Because I haven’t a penny, and you’ll be wanting a girl with a big fortune for this grand house.…

DAN. Me want a fortune! Not the cross of coin, Rose. You’re a fortune yourself. You can feed pigs and milk cows and keep a house. That’s enough for me.

ROSE. But it’s not enough for your father, Dan. He’ll want a fortune.

DAN. Well, my fader’s over seventy. Can’t we wait till he goes? All here is mine after his day. Pat has the pub. in the town.

ROSE. Well, Dan, I’ll wait.

DAN. Och! I know’d you’d cave in at last! Love always finds a way. And the ring’s here and all. [Puts it on her finger.] You’re Rose Deegan now, come weal or woe. It’s a long time since I concaited you.

PAUL comes in.

PAUL. Another match made in heaven! My blessing, childer. [Shakes hands.] And now for a speedy marriage.

DAN. Oh, we’ve agreed to wait my fader’s day, Paul.

PAUL. I heard the arrangement, Dan. But that’s only because you can’t see your way sooner. With your father’s consent and blessing you’d lose little time, I’ll go bail.

DAN. Not a day, Paul.

PAUL. Very well, then, just leave me to settle with the ould man. I think I can manipulate him.… If I succeed I’ll expect a small money present. Say five pounds—to carry me down to Carlow.

DAN. And you’ll get it. There’s my hand. [They shake.]

ROSE [making to rise]. I’ll be going now, Dan. Your father might come in.…

DAN. Och, sit still, Rose. My fader won’t be in this hour. He’s away to look at the young heifers.…

ROSE. I saw him going into Mullan’s.

PAUL. It’s maybe an ould heifer he’ll look at before he comes back.

DAN [alarmed]. What d’ye mean, Paul? In God’s name, amen.

PAUL. Isn’t there an ould doll in the name of Mullan, home from America with a boatload of money?

DAN. I’m in flames but you’re right. Ould Daisy Mullan.

PAUL. Well, she’s the heifer your father’s off to see, Dan. [Listens.] Whisht! And, begorry, she hasn’t kept him long … here he’s back. [He runs into the room.]

DAN [wildly]. My fader, my fader, as God’s my judge!

ROSE [leaps up]. Oh, Dan, Dan!

DAN. Hide the ring—hide the ring!

OLD DEEGAN comes in back.

OLD DEEGAN. Just so. I beg leave to be excused for coming in without knocking.

ROSE. I’ll be going, Dan.…

OLD DEEGAN. Tarry a moment, Miss M’Gothigan.

DAN [shaking]. I was only showing her the new house, fader.

DEEGAN. Did you tell her who built the new house?

DAN. Oh, the whole world knows that, fader. It was yourself built it and paid it.

DEEGAN. How do you know whether it’s paid or not, young man?

DAN [dashed]. Oh, well, I hope it is, anyway.

DEEGAN. That’s a good boy. Hope well and you’ll have well. [Glancing at the chair] You have been trying how Miss M’Gothigan would fill your mother’s chair, I see.

DAN [broken]. She was only in it a minute, fader.

DEEGAN. And you have on your good dicky, I observe.

DAN. I only put it on after you went out, fader.

DEEGAN. Take it off, sir!

DAN. Yes, fader. [Goes back and struggles with dicky.]

DEEGAN. Does the new house suit you, Miss M’Gothigan?

ROSE [choking]. It’s a fine house, sir.…

DEEGAN. It will be a fine home for a young woman with certain qualifications. Daniel would be inclined to be rash in these matters, but I’ll take care he makes no mistakes. Now I won’t detain you, Miss M’Gothigan. I’ll bid you a good evening.

ROSE. Good … evening.… [Goes out sobbing.]

DEEGAN [wipes the chair with his handkerchief and sits down]. Come forward, boy.

DAN. Yes, fader. [Stands forward.]

DEEGAN. Is there anything between you and that low-born trull of Denis M’Gothigan’s?

DAN. Not a ha’porth, fader. Thank God, amen.

DEEGAN. What authority had you to bring her into my house?

DAN. It was Paul Twyning, fader. He axed her in to see the plastering.

DEEGAN. And what authority had Paul Twyning to invite a strange female in here?

DAN. I don’t know, fader. Him and the M’Gothigans is very pact. Maybe that was it.

DEEGAN. Paul Twyning and the M’Gothigans are much the same breed of inferiors. Tell Paul Twyning to come forth.

DAN. Yes, fader. [Goes to the room door and shouts] Paul Twyning, you’re awanting! [PAUL appears.] My fader wants you, Paul. [Aside] Not a word, Paul, for the love of God, amen. I’m denying everything.

PAUL [coming forward]. Well, your honour, have you brought the ould aisy-chair across to the new hearth? Long may you fill it in comfort.

DEEGAN. Oh, thank you.… It won’t be long empty when I’m gone.… Was it you invited that person M’Gothigan to inspect the new house in my absence?

PAUL. I didn’t see much harm in asking a good girl to look at the plastering, God bless it. And by the same token, I thought yourself was upstairs the while.

DEEGAN [sharply]. That will do, sir!

PAUL. What will do, sir?

DEEGAN. I want no more of that.

PAUL. Oh, very well, all right! [Takes off his jacket.] If you want no more of it, neither do I.… Give me three days’ pay and let me back to a dacent country.…

DEEGAN [stands up]. You have taken me up wrong, sir. I didn’t mean you to stop work. I meant you to stop lying.

PAUL. That’s worse again! [Pitches the jacket on the floor.] My three days’ pay, or an apology. Now suit yourself.

DEEGAN. An apology? For what?

PAUL. For as good as calling me a liar. [Loudly] Devil recaive the spark of plaster I’ll put on the wall till you apologise! And for little, I’d plaster the house with writs for defamation of character.

DEEGAN. Writs! I’ve been in the Four Courts of Dublin in my time.

PAUL. And from what I hear, you’ve dragooned the whole parish ever since.… But by my sowl, you won’t dragoon Paul Twyning! You were only a week-end in Dublin, but I was born and raised and educated in it.

DEEGAN. You’re a great credit to it.… But go on with the plastering. I withdraw the words I said … or perhaps you’d prefer a written apology?

PAUL. Oh, the verbal repudiation will satisfy my honour. But since you’ve raised my dander I’ll press for full trades union rights. As a journeyman I’m entitled to bring in any man, woman, or child to examine my work. That’s how we tradesmen build up a reputation.

DEEGAN. Just so. Who will you invite next?

PAUL. Daisy Mullan’s aunt, for one. She has a bedroom wants a ceiling.

DEEGAN. Miss Mullan’s aunt will be very welcome.

PAUL. And Denis M’Gothigan’s pantry needs new lath and plaster. [Picks up his jacket.] I’ll have my full rights, or down tools. [Goes into the room.]

DEEGAN. That tramp scoundrel has more in his mind than plastering.… I hope you gave no promise of any kind to the slut?

DAN. No promise, fader. Thank God, amen.

DEEGAN. If you have, I’ll deal drastically with you. I’ll march you to Derry quay and put you aboard the emigrant ship, with my own hands. Mind that.

DAN [shivers]. You wouldn’t do that, fader dear.

DEEGAN. Try to thwart me, or disobey me, and you’ll see.… I have done it with your brothers and sisters when I was less independent than I’m now, and I’ll do it with you, too. [Holds up his hand.] Do you see that hand on my body?

DAN. Yes, fader.

DEEGAN. May it wither if I don’t make an example of you!

DAN [trembles]. But I’m not trying to twart you, fader. I’ve no mind to twart you.

DEEGAN. Not to my face. But the moment you get my back turned, you have a dirty M’Gothigan cocked in your dead mother’s chair.… May the Most High keep me in temper.…

DAN. Amen, fader. Don’t vex yourself, fader. I’ll never marry nobody your day.…

DEEGAN. You’ll marry to-morrow if you’re told! And the choice will be mine, not yours.

DAN. All right, fader. You’re the best judge of a cow or a horse in the parish, and maybe of a well-doing woman too.

DEEGAN. If she has a certain sum of hard money I won’t look too closely at her points. My thick-witted son is not such a catch in himself.

DAN. God knows that’s true, fader.

DEEGAN. I have my eye on a suitable female for this chair. She’s like yourself, not embarrassed with too much intelligence, but I understand she has money.…

DAN [aghast]. The ould Yankee Mullan! Ould Daisy Mullan that could be my granny!

DEEGAN. You are wrong, sir. Miss Mullan is in the prime of life. [Sternly] Would you dare turn the word on me, sir?

DAN [meekly]. Oh, whatever you plan, yourself, fader, I’m agreeable.… You’re a highly educated man.… And I know nothing, God help me.… But I don’t like her Yankee twang.…

DEEGAN. If her Yankee twang keeps you in the far fields, so much the better. I’m not marrying you to be happy, or to sit with your toes in the ashes.… Go now, and put on your Sunday clothes.…

DAN. Where am I going, fader?—in God’s name, amen!

DEEGAN. You’re going over with me to Mullan’s!… Wash the lime and mortar from behind your ears. And keep the cap pulled down over your hair.… It’s nice to see a boy of your age with grey hair in his head!

DAN. I can’t help my hair turning white, fader.… Will I put this dicky on my neck?

DEEGAN. Certainly so.

PAUL comes in for mortar.

PAUL. Dan, boys will be boys, and all of us make mistakes. But I think you ought to take your distinguished father into your confidence.…

DAN. I’m in flames, but I’m betrayed! Sold like a bullock in Smithfield! [Dashes into the room.]

PAUL. I may be only a tramp, your honour, but I’ve an Irish heart in my body, and it hurts me to see a foolish boy deceiving a good father.

DEEGAN. Paul Twyning, you are a better man than I gave you credit for.… What has this lad been doing?

PAUL. He has been offering marriage to Rose M’Gothigan, and, needless to say, she accepted.

DEEGAN [staggers]. Oh, don’t say that word! Tell me he has stolen something, or taken a false oath, but don’t say he’s pledged to that inferior.

PAUL. It grieves me to hurt a proud father’s feelings, but I must protest the truth. He proposed to her in that aisy-chair a few minutes ago, and was accepted under my own eyes.…

DAN [appears in room doorway]. It’s a lie, Judas! Mind, I’m prepared to fight for my life. It’s your oath again mine, and what are you but a tramp from God knows where?

DEEGAN. Go inside, sir, and close the door! Leave my sight, lest Satan tempt me to lift my hand.

DAN. My oath’s as good as Paul Twyning’s.

PAUL. You could probably swear me clean out of court, Dan; but you can’t swear your way through an engagement-ring.

DAN [loudly]. Flames to the traitor! [Goes in and bangs the door.]

DEEGAN. Paul Twyning, be careful. A ring?

PAUL. A ring, your honour. He put it on her finger and kissed her before I could run out and stop him.

DEEGAN. Are you prepared to swear to that?

PAUL. I couldn’t do otherwise, your honour, and keep the conscience right.

DEEGAN [drops into the chair]. Then Denis M’Gothigan has got a case against me at last!

PAUL. I’ll leave you alone now with your grief, master. I’m glad I’d the courage to do my duty.

DEEGAN. Thank you.

PAUL [knocks at room door]. May I come in, Dan?

DAN [inside]. Flames to the traitor!

PAUL goes in.

DEEGAN [stands up]. This has decided me. If Daisy Mullan can give me proof of her financial position, I’ll make the match before I sleep.…

DAISY MULLAN comes in back. She is an oldish, noisy, over-dressed person, with horn-rimmed glasses, much cheap jewellery, and a conspicuous vanity-bag.

DAISY. Ogee, Mr. Deegan, what do you blamed well think? I let you come away without getting your advice on several business propositions. First thing, I wanna ask you about the Irish banking system. Is the Irish banks safe, Mr. Deegan?

DEEGAN. Our leading banks are perfectly safe.

DAISY. And you think they’d give a gel a square deal if she was having her money crossed over from the States to this country, do you, Mr. Deegan?

DEEGAN. Not the least doubt of it.

DAISY. Then I’d wanna know the best gamut for collecting my rents and having ’em remitted, in case I should buy me a shack and settle down around here for a spell. Whatcha know about that, Mr. Deegan?

DEEGAN. That could easily be arranged later.

DAISY. Say, Mr. Deegan, you’ve sure taken a mighty weight off my shoulders. But ain’t it too blamed bad, my racing after you like this and blistering you with my troubles, ain’t it?

DEEGAN. No trouble, Miss Mullan, where you are concerned.

DAISY. By gosh, ain’t that just lovely! Say, Mr. Deegan, I guess it ain’t the first time you’ve jollied a gel, sure not. [Throws her eye round the house.] So this is your noo house, is it? And a blamed swell building to look at, you bet. Large, airy, and commodious. Health to enjoy it, my friend.

DEEGAN. Thank you kindly. It’s still in a raw state, or I would take you through it. The plasterer is still working in the room.…

DAISY. Oh, that Dublin feller, eh? He’s a good mechanic, ain’t he? M’auntie’s going to have him plaster a bedroom.

DEEGAN. Paul Twyning may have other faults, but he’s a good tradesman.

DAISY. Hits the liquor, do he?

DEEGAN. He is by no means a sot. But he can’t keep his nose out of other people’s business. He has only been three weeks in this locality, but he could write a history of the inhabitants. He questions the very children along the road as to their antecedents.

DAISY. Ain’t that for you, now! And m’aunt she thinks him such an innocent babe. [Opens her vanity-bag.] And now for some more trouble, Mr. Deegan. I’ve got an American bank draft here for a small amount, but seems I gotta have it endorsed by a responsible person before an Irish bank can fork out. Is that right, Mr. Deegan?

DEEGAN [chary]. I’m much afraid that’s the rule. [Puts on his specs.]

DAISY [fishes out a paper]. This ain’t it. This is my insurance policy on a block of house property I got on Mount Airy, West Philadelphia. [Hands it to him.] You hang on to that a moment, please, till I root out what I want.

DEEGAN [brightening]. With pleasure. [Scans the document.]

DAISY [takes out another paper]. What the all-fired noosiance have I got here? Why, yeah. My broker’s receipts for a bunch of stock in the Chesapeake, Ohio, and Pennsylvania Railway. [Hands it over.] I’ll trouble you to hold it, Mr. Deegan.

DEEGAN. No trouble. [Reads it.]

PAUL comes in, and coughs to draw attention.

PAUL. Beg pardon. I’m sorry to interrupt the good work, but I want my spatula.

DEEGAN. No harm, Paul.

DAISY. Say, Mr. Paul Twyning, when are you coming to plaster m’auntie’s bedroom?

PAUL [takes off his hat]. About the fourth day from now, melady, if I’m spared the health.

DAISY. Waal, that’s a date. I’ll tell m’auntie to have the room all cleared out.

PAUL. She may clear out the room, melady, but let her not order the material till I first run my dimension-rule over the interior and give her an estimate.

DAISY. I’ll sure tell her so. But, say, if you was in America and talk like that, you’d get fifteen dollars a day easy.

PAUL. I’ve a brother in Chicago—a lath-and-plasterer—making exactly that sum, melady.… But I mustn’t be interrupting the good work.… [Looks about the floor] I thought my spatula was here, but it must be outside. [Goes out back.]

DAISY. Say, ain’t he mannerable?

DEEGAN. He can pass himself very well.

DAISY [takes out the draft]. Ah, here we are.… It’s only for three thousand bucks—about six hundred pounds. You just have a squint, Mr. Deegan, and see if it’s correctly drawn.

DEEGAN [scans it carefully]. It’s drawn on the local bank, Ballybullion.

DAISY. Yeah, the local bank. It’s got a branch in Ballybullion, has it?

DEEGAN. Certainly so.… And, better still, I do business there myself and know the manager intimately.

DAISY. Why, dear Mr. Deegan, you’re a real public benefactor.

DEEGAN [hands her back all papers]. I’m going into the town to-morrow morning, and I’ll give myself the pleasure of driving you to the bank, and if you require my signature, I’ll be at your side.

DAISY. Why, my dear friend! I thank you over and over again, and then some.

DEEGAN [takes off his specs.]. No thanks at all, Miss Mullan. I’m very pleased to be able to oblige you, and more than pleased to see how well you have succeeded abroad. [Draws forward armchair] Take this chair, if you please, till I call my son Daniel.

DAISY [sits down, laughing]. Say, Mr. Deegan, you’re such a professor of human kindness. You might put in a good word for me with your son Dan or some other likely feller in the settlement. I allus said I’d never marry a Yankee, and you bet I’ve kept my word.

DEEGAN. I’m going to recommend you to my son Daniel. This house and ninety-five acres of freehold will be his portion. He’s a good steady boy, free of all vice.

DAISY. Say, Mr. James Deegan, I hope you ain’t joshing me. Mind, I’m plum-serious. Yes, sir, if you can offer me a loose proposition like Dan Deegan, I’m just going to prance right in and grab.… I can put a few thousands into this ranch and make things buzz like a top.

DEEGAN. I’m not a frivolous man, Daisy Mullan. I’m a serious man, and particularly serious in matters affecting my own house and family.

DAISY [sets her hat]. Then you can’t have Den too blamed speedy on the tape for mine. Is he in?

DEEGAN. He should be in this room. [Pausing.] I’ll leave you together after the introduction. You may have to encourage him a little.

DAISY [giggles]. Gee! Am I to do the sparking, am I?

DEEGAN. That will depend on how he behaves. [Opens room door] Are you here, Daniel?

DAN [inside]. Ay, I’m fixing myself.

DEEGAN. You’ll do very well. Come forth. [DAN comes out in an ill-fitting ready-made suit.] Miss Mullan, my son Daniel.

DAISY [leaps up]. Why, my! it’s Den! Not a shaving of differs since we was boy and gel at school. [Grabs his hand.] And how is it, Den? Purt good, I guess, eh?

DAN [smothering]. Oh, fairish, fairish, fairish!

DAISY. And, like myself, Den, you ain’t married yet, are you?

DAN. Not yet—not yet.… Nor no notion o’t. [Backs away.]

DAISY [sits down]. Draw up a chair, Den, and let’s have a gibber about the old schooldays.…

DEEGAN [after a pause]. Come, boy; have you nothing to say for yourself?

DAN. I don’t mind much about my schooldays. I never was many days at the school.

DAISY. Waal, set right down, Den, and I’ll stir up your recollection some.

DEEGAN [brings another chair]. Come forward, boy.

DAN [aside]. God help me now, amen! [Sits down.]

DEEGAN. Now, both of you are aware of what I have in mind. So I want no delays. Making a match is like swopping horses—the less one knows about the other the better.… You have my permission to proceed. [He goes into the room and shuts the door.]

DAISY [making eyes at DAN]. Say, Den, ain’t this dinky? A-setting at our own fireside, like Darby and Joan, ain’t we? [Draws her chair closer.] What a swell picture-postal we’d take—and you with your arm round me—eh?

DAN [bounces up]. The Lord stand between me and the snares of Satan, amen!

DAISY. What’s the trouble, Den?

DAN. I’m a dacent boy. That’s the trouble.

DAISY [rising]. But, my dear Den, we gotta get married, or dad will be so mad.

DAN [retreats, and is followed by DAISY]. That’s nice talk—about marriage—afore you know me five minutes.… Keep back now. Don’t surround me.

DAISY. You ain’t skeert, Den, are you?

DAN. Oh, I can defend myself—if it comes to that!… Keep back.… Don’t swarm in on me. [Moves backwards.]

DAISY [following him]. If you ain’t skeert, why run back aways, like that? Why not halt and talk?

DAN [warding her off]. Don’t crowd me, now! Keep a civil distance off me.… [Moves on.]

DAISY. Now, Denny, you know blamed well you just love your own Daisy. Ain’t it so? Mind, I ain’t a gel to chase a man around.

DAN. Back, back, back! [Picks up the shovel.]

DAISY [halts]. Look ahyar, young man. Are we going to make a contract, yea or nay? Now speak.

DAN. No contracts … no contracts.… I’m not a marrying man.…

DAISY. Then I guess that ends the courtship. Let’s tell dad. [She goes towards the room.]

DAN. Hi, wait a minute! [Scratches his head.] That would be twartin’ him.…

DAISY [comes back]. How now, Denny? Changed your mind, have you?

DAN [feebly]. I dunno what to do.… God help me, amen!

DAISY [taking his arm]. Let’s set down like sensible folks, Denny, and I’ll tell you what to do. [They sit down.] Now, Den, this ain’t no boy-and-gel love-affair. This is a deal. Your dad has seen my papers and they suit him. He needs my money to finish this here house, and you can’t have the dollars without Daisy. [Draws closer.] Now, Den, it’s your move.… Don’t be skeert to offend me.…

DENIS M’GOTHIGAN and ROSE come in back. DENIS is a sturdy little farmer with a full beard.

DENIS. Well, are ye foolin’ another gerril, Dan? Is’t not enough to fool my daughter, without foolin’ the whole naberhood?

DAN [jumps up]. I’m in flames, but this is a judgment! [Stands gazing blankly at DENIS.] Mind, my fader’s in that room, Denis. If he comes out he’ll martyr me.

DENIS. Oh, the sooner he hears what I have to say the better. [Shouts.] I’ve no cows grazed with James Deegan, LL.D. I disregard the ould lan’ grabber or the breed of him.…

OLD DEEGAN comes from the room.

DAN [wringing his hands]. Oh, I wisht the ground would open its mouth and swalley me!

DEEGAN. Small farmers have large voices. Whom are you threatening now, Denis?

DENIS. I’m come to see about this match between your fool son and my daughter. It was noan of my seekin’ nor my makin’. But the job’s done now, and I’ll make him toe the line, or I’ll know for why. He’ll not make a laughin’-stock of my daughter. [Stamps his foot.] I’m damned if he will!

DEEGAN. Have you anything in writing, Denis?

DENIS. No, but I’ve good eye-witness. Paul Twyning seen and heard the engagement.…

PAUL comes in back.

PAUL. Who’s taking Paul’s name in vain? Paul Twyning is a stranger in your midst and doesn’t want his name mixed up in this rural squabble at all.

DAN. That’s right, Paul. Deny everything.

DENIS [hotly to PAUL]. Ye were an eye-witness! Ye were an eye-witness! [Menaces PAUL.] If ye deny it, I’ll smash ye!

PAUL [flies off the handle]. Hell recaive the mongrel in the nine counties of Ulster can put them up to Paul Twyning! [Squares out.] Come on now—the whole three of you! [Knocks the hat off DENIS.] Come on, I say! For three month in this barren country has left me blue-moulding for a fight.…

DEEGAN. Order! I’ll not have my house turned into a Dublin doss-house.

DAN. That’s right, fader. You know the law.

DEEGAN [slaps DAN]. How dare you speak a word, sir! I’ll take the belt to you later.

DAN. God help me, amen. I’m always blamed.

DEEGAN. Denis M’Gothigan, promise or no promise, you have no case. My prodigal son has nothing here but the name.

DENIS. Ho, heth, we’ll see about that! The prodigal can claim for sarvent’s wages.… Oh, by the holy, you’ll not twist Denis.… I’ve a witness and a ring and a conversation-lozenger.…

DAN. It’s a lie!

ROSE. Oh, Dan, Dan!

DENIS. Hand me that lozenger, gerril. [ROSE gives him a big broad sweet.] Wait till the jury hears this. [Reads.]

“I love you very dearly,
And if you love me,
In spite of wind and weather
We shall married be.”

DAN. It’s a lie. I never had that lozenger in my possession. It was a wee peppermint I give her.…

ROSE. Oh, Dan, Dan!

DAN. Oh, it’s easy for you to “Dan, Dan.” But it’s me’s fighting for my life.

ROSE. And there’s the ring. [Holds up her hand.]

DAN. That’s not my ring at all. It’s Paul Twyning’s ring. He picked it up—or stole it from the pilgrims—at Lisdoonvarna.

PAUL. Dan Deegan, mind what you’re saying, or I’ll clout you one on the ear.

DAN. I mind rightly what I’m saying. I’m in flames, but I mean to clear myself!

DEEGAN. Denis M’Gothigan, the courts are open to you. But I think it my duty to inform you that the defendant is about to emigrate.…

DAN [bursts out crying]. A bad end to you, Paul Twyning!… This is what comes of bad company.… I was a happy boy till I met you.… [Sobs bitterly.]

PAUL. The prayers of the wicked hath no travalley. Dan! You’ve gone the pace and must take the consequences.

ROSE [crying]. Don’t emigrate him, Mr. Deegan. I don’t care about myself … but don’t emigrate Dan.

DENIS [grabs ROSE]. Come on, m’gerrill! I’ll have noan of this whumpering.… I’ll have damages, or rid the country of him. [Leads ROSE out back.]

PAUL. You’ll be another Columcille, Dan. You won’t even get back to Ireland blindfolded.… [Looks about the floor.] Well, begorry, after I searching the whole place, outside and in, there is my spatula! [Picks it up and goes into the room.]

DEEGAN [roars at DAN]. Go and take off your good clothes—you damned prodigal scoundrel, you!

DAN goes into the room blubbering.

DAISY [rising]. I feel downright sorry for you, Mr. Deegan. I do.

DEEGAN. I’m obliged to you, Miss Mullan. But this is not my first trouble of the kind. I had to banish four other sons and two daughters for disobedience, and this lad’s by far the worst of the lot.

DAISY. It’s a plum shame the way your family have treated you. Here you are with a noo house and a large farm, and no one to look after you but a few servants. It’s a downright crime. [The room door is opened cautiously, and DAN is seen to listen.] Why, my dear friend, what you want is a good-hearted young woman to look after you and take an interest in you.

DEEGAN. I wish I had thought of that fifteen years ago.… I’m too old now.

DAISY. Too old! Why, you’re a fresher man than your son Dan. In America a man of your age is dancing and flirting and only beginning to enjoy life.

DEEGAN. It’s good of you to flatter an old man. [Lays his hand on her shoulder] If I had met you ten or twelve years ago, I might have put a certain question to you.

DAISY. If you’d met me ten years ago, you’d have met a comparatively poor gel, for I’ve made all my money in the last decade.… But ain’t it better late than never?

DEEGAN [animated]. Mind what you’re saying, Daisy. My heart is younger than my face.

DAISY. I know fine what I’m saying, Jimes. And I repeat—ain’t it better late than never?

DEEGAN. You would give me a new lease of life, Daisy.

DAISY. I sure would, dear.

DEEGAN. I’m not after your money, Daisy. I would make you an assignment of everything I possess in the world.

DAISY. And I’d take care you wanted for nothing, dear.… I’d have your house and garden the talk of this here settlement.… Out there in front of the door I’d have a double hedge of sweet-pea.…

DEEGAN [drops on one knee and takes her hand]. Daisy, will you marry me…?

DAN [shouts]. Paul, Paul! Quick! The ould man’s down on his knees.… Good God! the man that shook hands with Parnell himself.…

PAUL dashes from the room.

PAUL. Congratulations … congratulations! Is it all settled?

DAISY. Why, sure! He’s asked me to marry him, and my answer is—Yaas!

PAUL. And I have great pleasure in being a witness. [Aside] And ten to one I’ll be called.

Curtain

ACT II

The following day—forenoon.

A drinking-room in Patrick Deegan’s public-house. There is a door to the kitchen, one to the bar, and a side door to the yard.

PATRICK DEEGAN, a big, rough man with a whiskey nose, comes in from the bar, followed by PAUL TWYNING and DAN DEEGAN.

PATRICK. Now don’t all spake at once. Keep you your tongue in your teeth, Dan, and let Paul Twyning that has travelled the world and seen something in his time tell me about this calamity.… One thing we all know: if Mullan had the ould man on his knees, she never let him up till he settled the business.

MRS. DEEGAN, a grey-haired woman with a troubled face, looks in from the bar.

MRS. DEEGAN. Patrick dear, won’t you let me come in and hear the rest of it?

PATRICK. Away to blazes, you, and mind the bar! If I want your advice I’ll for send you. I never had an hour’s luck since the day I tane you.

MRS. DEEGAN. Well, well. Maybe you’ll get rid of me, and you’ll have good luck then. [She turns to go.]

PATRICK. Here! bring us a taste of something to drink.… What’s yours, Paul?

PAUL. Plain whiskey.

DAN. Me a wee taste of wine.

PATRICK. Wine the devil! [To MRS. DEEGAN] Three glasses of whiskey from the wee jar in the gas-meter. Fly now!

MRS. DEEGAN [comes back]. Patrick Deegan, are you wild mad? If you taste whiskey this day and your father coming in—I know what ’ill happen. He’ll sign this house over to Daisy Mullan, and we’ll be left homeless.…

PATRICK. Shut up your long face and bring the whiskey. Could I do business without a good rosener to steady me? Fly now.

MRS. DEEGAN. Oh, very well. You’ll see who’s right and who’s wrong before the chapel bell rings six. [She goes out to the bar.]

PATRICK. Take sates, boys. I couldn’t sit down myself, I’m that through-over.

PAUL and DAN sit down at the table. MRS. DEEGAN comes in with three glasses on a tray.

PAUL. Here’s good luck and good health.…

PATRICK. Don’t drink a minute, Paul. I want to ask you one question. Are you on our side or the ould man’s? Mind, a five-pound note never raired Pat Deegan. If you help me to manœuvre him into making me an assignment of this house the day—I’ll not forget a friend.

PAUL. I’m dead again the ould man on principle.

PATRICK. That’s the style, by Mozes! On what principle, Paul?

PAUL. That a man of seventy-five should be thinking about his sowl instead of his honeymoon.

PATRICK. A new proverb, by Mozes! We’ll drink to that afore we say another word. [Raising his glass] Here’s a plague on the ould Yankee Mullan that has brought all this trouble on quiet, dacent people.

All drink.

MRS. DEEGAN. Patrick dear, Jim’s in the bar. Won’t you let me stay and hear what you’re going to do?

PATRICK. Aye, certainly, Janey.… Heth, I don’t know who has a better right to hear the outs and ins of it than my own Janey. [MRS. DEEGAN sits.] Now, Paul, you’re the man I want to hear. What’s your opinion of the whole tragedy?

PAUL. Well, in the first place, I think your father—God forgive him—has treated his fine family worse than the mud on the road. Four sons and two daughters banished, the boy Dan about to be pushed out with the grey ribs in his hair, and yourself a cottier with no more fixity of tenure than one of Clanricarde’s tenants in the evil days.

PATRICK [grabs MRS. DEEGAN]. D’ye hear that? D’ye hear what a smart man that has paraded the world says? Is them my own words a-fifty times over?

MRS. DEEGAN. Oh, indeed, many a time you said that, Patrick.

PATRICK. Purceed, Paul.

PAUL. And the worst—the saddest feature of all—James Deegan is an able man.

PATRICK. Able! A man that shook hands with Parnell himself. A man that addressed the gowned judges in the Four Courts of Dublin. Aye, by Mozes, he’s an able man!

PAUL. But, like every great man of ancient or modern times, James Deegan has made a mess in the last lap.

PATRICK. Aye, look at ould Gladstone, and Parnell himself.

PAUL. I almost despair of my own sex when I see James Deegan—a white-haired man, as grave and solemn as his own memorial—making love on his two knees to an ould washed-out Yankee cook.

PATRICK. By Mozes, it’s no wonder you despair.

MRS. DEEGAN. Now you’ll blether on till he comes in. Then you’ll have less to say.

PAUL. The lady is right. He’ll be in soon, for we passed him and his fiancée in the trap within half a mile of town. Myself and Dan were in the creamery-waggon, and we covered up with empty sacks that he wouldn’t see us.

MRS. DEEGAN. In God’s name, will Daisy Mullan take him?

PAUL. Would a duck swallow a dew-worm?

MRS. DEEGAN. Has she property in America?

PAUL. I don’t know about the property, but she has more deeds and documents in her vanity-bag than would do the Congested Districts Boord.… And she’ll have more before night comes, for he’ll sign the farm over to her this day in front of an attorney.…

PATRICK. Oh, my head, my head! [Holds his head.] By Mozes, I’m wake!

MRS. DEEGAN. Why didn’t you take her yourself, Dan, if she wants a man?

PAUL. Poor Dan has his own troubles.… Isn’t he pledged to Rose M’Gothigan?

PATRICK. What! Pledged to who?

PAUL. Keep cool now, for pity’s sake.… How could Dan be wise and his father a fool? He’d the misfortune to speak to Rose, and she consented.…

PATRICK [reaching for DAN]. For two straws I’d bring the win’pipe out in my hand! I see it all now. You were sitting humpt up beside her the whole night of the dance.… It’s you has riz the devil in the ould man.… [Reaches again.] I’ll fetch the win’pipe.…

DAN. Don’t touch me now! I’m in flames, if I’ll stand it.

PAUL. Leave Dan alone, Patrick. Isn’t he well enough punished, and he about to be shipped to a foreign shore?

JIM DEEGAN, a thin boy of eighteen, comes in from the bar.

JIM. I say, I say! My granda’s away driving up the street, with a woman in the trap.…

PATRICK. And did he not think worth his while to stop at the door?

JIM. He never looked in as much as.

PAUL. He’s taking Daisy up to the bank. She has a Yankee draft to cash, and he’s going to endorse it.

PATRICK. He’ll rue that, by Mozes! I never seen a Yankee draft yet worth tuppence. [To JIM] Away you out to the bar, boy.… Away now, afore I lift something and split your skull.

JIM. What’s wrong, da?

PATRICK. Away, and don’t ask so many questions. You’d talk as much as your mother.… Away—afore I lift this table and brain you.

JIM. Is my granda going to marry that woman, da?

PATRICK. Aye, he wants a wife instead of a coffin.… Go on, now, like a good wee son, and mind the bar. That’s a boy!

JIM. And will he not lay me the farm—and me called for him?

DAN. Flames to you! what right have you to the farm?

JIM. Da, won’t you.…

PATRICK. Will you go and mind the bar? [Makes a race at him.] By Mozes, I’ll lame you! [JIM runs out.] Your mother has you spoiled.

PAUL [rising]. I don’t want the ould man to know I’m in the town at all, for he left me plastering the parlour room.… I’ll sit in the kitchen and sip a bottle of stout.… Come along, Dan.

PAUL and DAN go off right.

PATRICK. This is a tragedy! Daisy Mullan ’ill revenge herself on me.…

MRS. DEEGAN [rising]. What has Daisy Mullan against you?

PATRICK. I coorted her awhile about thirty years ago.

MRS. DEEGAN. Och, she was lucky didn’t get you. She’ll have forgot all about it.

PATRICK. Will she indeed! She’ll mind it rightly. [Looks wild.] I’ll go and get blind drunk.…

MRS. DEEGAN. You’ll do nothing of the kind. You’ll leave everything to me. Who knows but this is all for good? If he ships Dan, we might be able to stop the wedding, and then Jim would get the farm after all.

PATRICK. If you can manage that I’ll buy you the best pair of slippers in Ballybullion. I will, by Mozes!

JIM rushes in.

JIM. I say, I say! My granda’s away into the yard … the woman’s in the bank. And Denis M’Gothigan and his daughter Rose is away into Attorney Dawson’s.…

MRS. DEEGAN. Well, well! One thing at once. You’re like all the Deegans—you won’t make anything smaller. [To PATRICK] Go out, Patrick, and help your father to put in the mare … and don’t let on you know a ha’porth.

PATRICK. I’ll be as nice as ninepence at first. But if he doesn’t sign this house over to me this day I’ll give him and ould Daisy a wedding-present, by Mozes! [Goes out the side-door to the yard.]

JIM. Ma, what’s wrong?

MRS. DEEGAN. Don’t bother me, son.

JIM. My granda looks powerful stern.

MRS. DEEGAN. Well, be you very glad to see him when he comes in, and remind him that you’re called for him.

JIM. Heth, I will, ma. But if he doesn’t lay me the farm or gimme six hunnert pound, I’ll tell him another story some day!

MRS. DEEGAN [with energy]. Here, listen to me. Take the wee bottle and sixpence, and tell the druggist to fill it for your ma.… And don’t let anybody see what you’re getting.… Just slip the wee bottle to the druggist. He’ll know what you want.

JIM. All right, ma. [Goes out quickly.]

MRS. DEEGAN [removes the tray]. He’ll sign nothing over to Daisy Mullan this day if I can stop it!… The old viper—what does he want with a woman?

OLD DEEGAN comes in at the side door. He carries a whip and a rug, and is looking very spry.

DEEGAN. Well, how’s all here?

MRS. DEEGAN [fussing]. Och, granda dear, and is this yourself! [Shakes hands and laughs.] Upon my word, granda, you’re getting fresher looking every day.

DEEGAN. I’m like the eagles, I’m renewing my youth. [Lays down the whip and rug and sits down at the table.]

MRS. DEEGAN. It’s nothing short of a miracle—at your great age. I suppose you’re hard on eighty, granda.

DEEGAN. A man is just as old as he feels. I feel hard on twenty-five.

JIM rushes in, and slips the bottle to his mother.

JIM. Och, is this my wee granda!

MRS. DEEGAN. Yes, you’ll be happy now. You’ve been wishing and wishing your granda would come in.

JIM. Och, my dear granda! [Hugs him.] My own dear granda that I’m called for. Amn’t I, granda?

DEEGAN [gives him a penny]. There’s a penny for yourself. Go and buy liquorice-ball.

JIM. Ah, thanks, granda. It takes yourself. [Tries to kiss him.] You’ll lay me more than a penny some day. Won’t you, granda?

DEEGAN. We’ll see. Go now and buy liquorice-ball. You’re getting too old for this baby-talk.

JIM. It’s because I love my granda.… [Goes out with hanging lip.]

MRS. DEEGAN. You oughtn’t to cut him, granda. He’s that doted on you.

DEEGAN. He’s like all the rest, he’s doted on my last will and testament.

MRS. DEEGAN. May God forgive you, James Deegan, for thinking such a thing, let alone say it!

DEEGAN [shrugs]. We won’t discuss it further.… Have you seen Daniel?

MRS. DEEGAN. He’s about the house somewhere.

DEEGAN. I suppose he has emptied his stomach?

MRS. DEEGAN. Och, he was talking as usual, but I was busy and paid no attention. Poor Dan has always a long story about the cruel way you treat him.

DEEGAN. You are a wise woman—and a rare woman—to pay no attention to stories.… Send Daniel to me. He’s in the kitchen.

MRS. DEEGAN. Och, granda, won’t you take a wee taste of something after the drive?

DEEGAN. Not at present. I have important legal business to transact to-day, and I always make it a rule to keep the mind clear for business.… Tell Daniel to come forth.

MRS. DEEGAN. You were always a great business man, granda. I wish your sons had taken after you.

DEEGAN. My sons were graceless and without understanding. Send Daniel to me.

MRS. DEEGAN goes to the kitchen, and PATRICK comes in.

PATRICK. Heth, that mare’s in big fettle, father. But she needs a wee bit off her mane and tail.

DEEGAN. Her mane and tail will do me very well. But what about yourself? You’ve had another big spill since I was here.

PATRICK [lamely]. It was the fair day, and I got a wee taste too much. But I’ve tane the pledge for life, and means to keep it.…

DEEGAN. Silence, sir! How dare you stand there and tell me you have the pledge for life! Couldn’t I smell your breath the moment I entered the yard?…

PATRICK. Aye, so you’re right. I tane a wee thim’leful this morning.…

DEEGAN. Patrick Deegan, beware! I may have to answer at the Bar of Judgment for putting you in a public-house. Take this from me as final. One other burst and I’ll put this licensed property to the hammer.

PATRICK. I could curse the day you ever put me in it.

DEEGAN. And I have been cursing the day ever since.

PATRICK. If you’d gimme the property at first and let me run it my own way, I’d be a different man the day.

DEEGAN. A different man indeed! You’d be in the graveyard or the madhouse many a year ago. [Stands up.] But since you’ve raised the question, I’ll settle it now, once for all. Then you’ll know where you stand.

PATRICK. That’s all I want to know.

DEEGAN. Your name will never be in the deed of this property.… You know now.

PATRICK. Say that again!

DEEGAN. If I don’t sell the house, I’ll leave it to your crafty wife, and she in turn will leave it to her crafty son. There now. That’s your settlement. [Sits.]

PATRICK [foaming]. The day you do that I’ll burn it to ashes—I will, by Mozes!

DEEGAN. And welcome. It’s well insured.

PATRICK [boils over]. Aye, maybe it is.… Maybe it’s well insured.… I know nothing about that.… I’m only the tenant. But I know this much. You’d better insure yourself. D’ye hear me? Insure yourself … and your ould Yankee trooper.…

DAISY comes in from the bar, her face flaming.

DAISY. Patrick Deegan, who are you calling names to? Is it me, is it? Am I the old Yankee trooper, am I?

PATRICK. Shut up! or I’ll hinch you as far as I can hinch you out the middle of the street.

MRS. DEEGAN rushes in.

MRS. DEEGAN. What’s wrong—what’s wrong?

DAISY. James Deegan, am I to be treated in this low-down manner, am I? Is this how you mean to protect me as your wife, is it?

DEEGAN [stands up]. Patrick Deegan, you have done a bad day’s work for yourself and for those who come after you.…

PATRICK [wildly]. Ah, shut up, you! You’re the great man that shook hands with Parnell himself! You’re the great lawyer that addressed the gowned judges in the Four Coorts of Dublin!… And here you are at last—tane up with an ould Yankee ballad-singer, by Mozes! [MRS. DEEGAN grabs PATRICK and drags him out, he shouting] Ould Yankee trooper.… Ould ballad-singer.… Ould mazawatty.

MRS. DEEGAN gets him dragged out to the bar.

DAISY. James dear, these folks don’t want me. That woman hates me like a snake. See the look in her eyes, and she snarls so. [Sits down.]

DEEGAN. She may snarl, but she can’t bite. Before we leave the town you’ll be her landlady. [Sits down.]

DAISY. Oh, James, how good you are. [Looks about her.] And you bet I’ll see they keep this place in order.

MRS. DEEGAN hurries in with two glasses on a tray.

MRS. DEEGAN. Granda, dear, you know what Patrick is? He’s that hasty. [To DAISY] He wouldn’t hurt your feelings for the world, Miss Mullan. [Laughs drily.] Och, sure, from what I hear, you’ll soon be one of the family.

DAISY. Yaas! and a nice family reception I’m gitting. An old Yankee trooper, no less.

MRS. DEEGAN. Och, who would heed Patrick Deegan?… I wish you both many happy days.… This is just a wee taste to wet the match. A wee special for you, granda, and a port for you, Miss Mullan.

DAISY. I sure want something after that unholy racket. [To OLD DEEGAN] Drink that up, dear. It’ll do you good.

Both drink.

MRS. DEEGAN. I hope you’ll give us the big day soon. [Picks up the tray.] I’ll leave you now.… Three’s a crowd. [She goes out smiling.]

DAISY. That’s a cruel, cruel woman, Jimes. Ain’t she, dear?

DEEGAN. A crafty lady.… You had no trouble at the bank?

DAISY. Why, I should say not. The manager, a real nice man, he just glanced at your endorsement and smiled pleasant. [Opens the vanity-bag.] I got the whole wad right here. [Shows him the roll of paper money.]

DEEGAN. That’s too much money to carry on your person. You ought to have left it—or part of it—in the bank.

DAISY. Not on your life, dear. My next haul can stay in the bank, but every cent of this is going into our noo home for nice furniture and nifty wall-paper and carpets [putting the money back in the bag]. I told you I was going to make you happy and comfortable, and you bet I am.

JIM rushes in.

JIM. Och, my new grandma! My bonny wee Yankee grandma! [Tries to hug DAISY.]

DAISY [pushing him off]. Who the goldarn are you? [Stands up.]

JIM. Och, don’t you know me? I’m called for my granda.… Amn’t I, granda? Amn’t I your favourite grandchild?

DAISY. Go on—beat it. We don’t want you here at all. You’re too darned sweet to be wholesome.…

JIM. Och, you don’t know me, grandma.…

DAISY. Nor I don’t want to. Go on—git! We can spare you. Skidoo. [Sits down.]

DEEGAN. Where is Uncle Daniel, boy?

JIM. Him and Paul Twyning’s in the kitchen, drinking mulled porter.

DEEGAN. Oh, indeed! Has Paul followed the scent?

DAISY. Ain’t that for you now! And we left him plastering the room!

JIM. Him and Uncle Dan came in the creamery waggon—covered up with empty bags that you couldn’t see them.

DEEGAN. Send both to me.

JIM. Heth, I will. It’s nice to be doing something for my dear granda. [Dashes off to the kitchen.]

DAISY. Say, that’s a fearfully sloppy kid, ain’t he?

DEEGAN. The mother puts him up to it.

PAUL staggers in, followed by DAN.

PAUL [in a tipsy voice]. Here we are again, as large as life! And anyone that doesn’t like my gait needn’t swing on it.

DEEGAN. Paul Twyning, what are you doing in the town?

PAUL. I’m waiting for the first train to Dublin. [Sings]

“For the ship went down with that fair young bride

That sailed from Dooooooooblin Bay.”

DEEGAN. You’re drunk, sir.

PAUL. Not quite, but feeling nicely.… And musically inclined. [Sings]

“In a pair of brand-new brogues
I rattled o’er the bogs,
And frightened all the dogs
On the rocky road to Dublin.
… Tearing away, my boys.…”

DEEGAN. Silence, sir!

PAUL. Silent, O Moyle, be the roar of thy waters.

DEEGAN. Aren’t you going back to finish the plastering?

PAUL. Most emphatically never. And I’ll tell you why. I don’t want my name appearing in these morbid breach of promises cases, and I won’t have it. [Takes the spatula from his pocket.] I’ve my tools and all here.… [Sings]

“I’m bidding you a long farewell,

My Mary kind and true.…”

DEEGAN. Be quiet, sir!

PAUL. Well, without setting it to music, I’m quit!

DAN. I’m in flames, but I’m for Dublin too! I can go wi’ Paul and be his attender.…

DEEGAN [stands up]. What is that you say, boy?

DAN [cowering]. Oh, whatever you say yourself, fader.

DEEGAN. Come with me. I’ll let you see the Dublin you’re bound for. [Walks unsteadily towards the door.]

DAN. The emigration agent!

DAISY. Say, Jimes, ship him Red Star. It’s sure a smart service. I got here in eight days.…

DAN. I wish to God, amen, you’d went to the bottom of the sea!

DEEGAN [returns unsteadily to his chair]. My head feels somewhat light. [Sits down.]

DAISY. Same here, Jimes.… [Her hat tilts to one side.] A sort of dopey feeling.…

PATRICK ushers in MR. O’HAGAN.

PATRICK [in a surly voice]. Atturney Hagan to see you.

O’HAGAN. I was just setting out for your place, Mr. Deegan, when I heard you were in town. [Shakes hands.] How’s the health?

DEEGAN. Very well, thank you. What can I do for you?

O’HAGAN. Haven’t you a son named Daniel?

DEEGAN. Unfortunately I have.

O’HAGAN. Well, seems he has got himself mixed up with Rose M’Gothigan—a daughter of Denis’s.

DAN. It’s a falsehood! I never spoke to the girl in my life.

O’HAGAN. Oh, is this the boy himself? [Smiles at DAN.] The girl tells a different story, Dan. She and her father are in about law this morning.…

DAN. Let them law away.… I’m stainless. Get the prayer-book and swear me.…

O’HAGAN [to OLD DEEGAN]. Denis M’Gothigan has the ball at his own toe this time, Mr. Deegan. What are we going to do about it?

DEEGAN. Fight it.

DAN. That’s right, fader. Fight it.

O’HAGAN. If you take my advice you’ll give the girl a few pounds and settle it.

DAN. In God’s name do, fader. Settle it. You never know what they might swear.

DEEGAN [to O’HAGAN]. This thick-witted boy has nothing.

PAUL. Oh, he has something—he has a guilty conscience. I heard him with my own ears popping the question, and saw him with my own eyes putting the ring on her finger. If that isn’t a clear case for the plaintiff, I’ll eat my spatula.

O’HAGAN. Now, Mr. Deegan, you hear that yourself. You wouldn’t be mad enough to fight a case like that. [He whispers to PATRICK, who goes out.] We must settle this case, James. We haven’t a leg to stand on.

DAISY [in a sleepy voice]. Se’l it, dear … se’l it. We don’t want no law-suits … we want peace.

PATRICK brings in DENIS M’GOTHIGAN and ROSE.

O’HAGAN. Now, Denis, you have no case. But Mr. Deegan doesn’t want to strive with a good neighbour.…

DENIS. Ho! Is this the Four Courts?

O’HAGAN. It’s just as well for you it isn’t the Four Courts, or you’d go home broke.

DENIS. Whisht! If we’ve no case, it would be a pity to take up your valuable time. [Takes ROSE’S hand.] Come on, m’ gerril. The Lord Chancellor O’Hagan says we’ve no case. That ring on your finger and that conversation-lozenger in your pocket is sadly agen us.… [Leads ROSE towards the door.]

O’HAGAN. Come back, Denis. You’re very quick at running away. It’s my opinion you don’t want a settlement. But you must be saved from yourself.… Dan Deegan has nothing. A man of straw. But his father is ready to consider a settlement.…

DENIS [leading ROSE back]. That’s better whiskey, Mr. Hagan. That’s a lash better than having no case at all.

O’HAGAN. Now, now, Denis. Don’t be too sarcastic. If we reach a settlement there must be no bitterness after.… Now, Denis, we’re prepared without prejudice to offer your daughter five pounds.

DENIS. Yaha! yaha! Well, damn my picther if that’s not the best joke ever you cracked, Hagan. [To ROSE] Come on, gerril. I can buy you a pair of garters without these damages.…

O’HAGAN. Then stand and say it yourself, Denis.

DENIS. Well. Without prejudice, three hundert pounds in goold.

O’HAGAN. Ah, bosh! No jury would give you more than a tenner, and then you couldn’t get tenpence from Dan.

DENIS. I could rid the country of him.

DEEGAN. I’ll do that without you. I’m shipping him myself.

DAN [sobbing]. I don’t want to crass the seas.… I’m too ould, and I’m no skolard.…

DENIS. You’re not too ould to destroy young gerrils!… You and your conversation-lozengers is a danger to the parish.

DAN [weeping]. Don’t paint me blacker than I am, Denis. [Sobs quietly.]

O’HAGAN. This is a very pathetic case. The poor boy doesn’t want to leave the green hills and dales of holy Ireland.

DENIS. He should lave the gerrils alone, well.

O’HAGAN. Ah, for shame, Denis. You were young yourself.… Any white jury would forgive Dan for passing a lozenger to lovely Rose M’Gothigan.… Look at the eye in her head. One glance of it would kill a man like the lightning. [To ROSE] I’ll engage you wouldn’t like to see your Willy Reilly banished—would you, now?

ROSE. Indeed no, sir. [Sniffs.] It’s not me that’s driving him across the seas.

DAN. God bliss you, Rose, amen!

DENIS. Be quiet, gerril! I’ll have noan of this saft nonsense.… I know right well what O’Hagan’s flowery talk amounts to.…

PAUL [rising]. Let Paul Twyning speak a word.… The solution of this problem is as plain as the nose on your face. Let James Deegan and Denis M’Gothigan give the lovers a modest start in life—sure, the costs of a Dublin law-suit would buy them ten acres and a cow.

DENIS. I’m game. I’m raisonable.

O’HAGAN. Now, Mr. Deegan, what do you say?

DEEGAN. If one penny would buy them a freehold I wouldn’t give it.

PAUL [hotly]. No, bedamned to you for a pig-headed, selfish ould slave-driver! You’d sooner put them aboord the emigrant ship.

O’HAGAN. Oh, oh! This is going too far.

DEEGAN. Not at all. Let the vagrant have his say.

PAUL. And the vagrant shall have his say! Ireland, north, south, east, and west, is lowzy with your kind. There was more happiness on the Irish homestead when you were paying the rack-rent and eating the lumpers.

PATRICK. Oh, the holy truth!

PAUL. Since the ould generation of farmers got cheque-books, they never smiled again.

PATRICK. Oh, Mozes, true!

PAUL. The omnipotent God knows what you’ll be like if ever you get Home Rule. I wouldn’t like to be Dan Deegan and vote Labour.

DAN. Devil a vote you’d have if you were me.

PAUL. But I’d like well to be the first Irish Chancellor. Then I’d bring back the smile to the ould Deegan faces. I’d give them just what acres they could till, at a smart rent to the States, and there’d be plenty of land left for the boys.

O’HAGAN. That’s Lalor.

PAUL. And it’s Twyning, too!

DEEGAN. And it’s everybody like you—tramps and paupers.

PAUL. Including your son Dan, who is more destitute and hopeless than any tramp or pauper I’ve met. [Points at DAN.] Just look at that product of yourself and ninety-five acres of freehold. No more spine in his back than a lizard, and so bulldozed and browbeaten that he’d swear a lie before he’d own the simplest truth.

DAN. It’s the God’s holy truth, amen.

PAUL. Standing there with grey head and shaking limbs, you’d think he’d killed a priest instead of given a conversation-lozenger to Rose M’Gothigan. [Loudly] And Dan Deegan is legion. And Ould Deegan is legion. You drive the youth to the four winds, and then bleat and pray and send them shamrocks in exile.… Ah, gimme a drink somebody.

PATRICK [rising]. Come on wi’ me, Paul! By Mozes, you’re as powerful as Paul and the Corinthians! [He lugs PAUL out to the bar.]

DEEGAN. There’s a Labour leader lost in that frothy scoundrel.

O’HAGAN. There is some truth in him, too. So let us profit by it.… Now, Denis, what is the very lowest figure you can accept?

DENIS. Three hundert pound—in goold.

O’HAGAN. Good lord! [To OLD DEEGAN] Mr. Deegan, how far are you prepared to go?

DEEGAN. A single penny of mine will never rattle in a M’Gothigan’s pocket.

DENIS. Come on, Rose. We’ll see the Four Courts, after all.

ROSE. Good-bye, Dan.

DAN. Good-bye, Rose, amen.

DENIS and ROSE go out.

DEEGAN [to DAN]. Step you out to the yard, sir. I want to speak with Mr. O’Hagan.

DAN. Yes, fader. [Goes out.]

DAISY. Jimes, I feel awful sleepy and queerish.… I believe that wine was doped, I do.

DEEGAN. I’m certain of it. My own feet and legs are tingling, but the mind is clear.

MRS. DEEGAN comes in.

MRS. DEEGAN. You’ll take a cup of tea, granda?

DEEGAN. I want first to know what you put in that drink you gave us?

MRS. DEEGAN. Lord bless us, granda! Such a question to ask me. It was a fresh bottle.…

DEEGAN. That will do. I’ve heard drug stories about this house, but now I’m convinced.

DAISY. I’m darned sure you put suthin in my port.… Dope or suthin.… I can’t keep my eyes awake.

MRS. DEEGAN. Ach, you’re beside yourselves, the both of you! [Goes out to the kitchen.]

DEEGAN. Mr. O’Hagan, this lady, Miss Mullan, and I have arranged to get married. She has considerable property in America, and I want to make her an assignment of these licensed premises and the farm.

O’HAGAN. As from your marriage day?

DEEGAN. Exactly so.

O’HAGAN [shakes hands with DAISY]. Congratulations, Miss Mullan.

DAISY. Thank you. I guess I’ll want a good smart lawyer to look after my interests in America.

O’HAGAN. Your husband will be able to direct you to an excellent man. [To DEEGAN] You want this matter arranged to-day, Mr. Deegan?

DEEGAN. Immediately. Then the M’Gothigans can proceed with their writs.

O’HAGAN. By Jove, good!… You didn’t attend the Four Courts for nothing.

DAISY. Ain’t he jest a dandy! I’m sure proud of my fiancé.

O’HAGAN. I’ll have the document ready in a few minutes. Will you come across to the office and sign?

DEEGAN. If I’m not there when it’s ready, you can bring it over here.

O’HAGAN. With pleasure. [Goes out.]

DAISY. Jimes dear, we must coax Paul Twyning to come back and finish the plastering, else our marriage will be held up for weeks.

DEEGAN. I have thought of that. We must get the ruffian back.

He rings a small bell on the table, and JIM rushes in.

JIM. Och, does my dear grandpa want me? [Tries to kiss him.] You are not angry at me, granda? sure you’re not?

DAISY. Give him a keek, Jimes! Hully gee, he does make me hot!… Look ahyar, slobber! you get your message and beat it. Go while the going’s good.

JIM. It’s a great sin for you to put in between granda and his favourite grandchild.

DAISY. Here, skip! Else I’ll rise and fetch you one.

DEEGAN. Be off, boy. Tell Paul Twyning to come here.

JIM. My granda … has turned clean agen me.… [Goes out sniffing.]

DAISY. Shucks! that kid gives me a bilious attack. I’d love to hitch him to a post and whale the everlasting daylight out of him.

PAUL staggers in.

PAUL [with a grand gesture].

“You know, my friends, with what a brave Carouse

I made a Second Marriage in my house;

Divorced old barren Reason from my bed,

And took the daughter of the Vine to spouse.…”

I forget the rest of it at the moment.…

DEEGAN. Never mind the rest of it. Are you coming back to finish the plastering?

PAUL. My answer is No.

DAISY. But I say y’are! And I’m going to make it worth your while to.… [She opens the vanity-bag.]

OLD DEEGAN leans back and falls asleep.

PAUL. Of course, a request from a young bride-to-be puts a different complexion on it.

DAISY [takes out the roll of money and hands PAUL a pound-note]. Thar’s five dollars.

PAUL. With all due respect to the dollars—this is a pound-note.

DAISY. Yaas; that’s five dollars.

PAUL [bowing]. The strike is over. Work in all departments will commence to-morrow morning. [Looking at OLD DEEGAN] Is your fiancé asleep?

DAISY. I reckon he’s dozing—and I’m jest dying to. [Yawns.]

PAUL. Well, don’t let me keep you awake. [Goes to the bar door and stands with the knob in his hand.]

DAISY [yawning]. Ah, yah, my … I could jest … sleep.… [Leans back and sleeps.]

PAUL [goes over and blows gently in their faces]. Have you crossed the Rubicon? [No answer.] Do you not hear Cupid himself speaking to you? [No answer. After a pause, he takes the roll of money and other papers from DAISY’S bag and slips out the side door.]

MRS. DEEGAN comes in, with tea on a tray.

MRS. DEEGAN. Lord save us! [Lays down tray.] Wake up and take this cup of tea. [Pause.] Wake up. [She glances nervously about the kitchen, then goes through DAISY’S bag and finds it empty. She calls PATRICK from the bar.]

PATRICK [coming in]. What’s wrong here?… Did you dose them?

MRS. DEEGAN. Not so loud—you fool!

PATRICK. It would be no harm to see what ould Daisy has in the bag.…

MRS. DEEGAN. For shame, man! Would you stoop to such a thing?

PATRICK. I’d stoop to anything this minute.… Take away that tray.

MRS. DEEGAN goes out with the tray, and PATRICK goes through DAISY’S bag.

Not a rupee, by Mozes!

O’HAGAN, PAUL and DAN come in from the bar.

O’HAGAN [document in hand]. What’s the matter? Are they drunk or sleeping?

PATRICK. They’re both. They killed a whole bottle of spacial whiskey.

MRS. DEEGAN comes in.

O’HAGAN. I want his signature to this paper.

MRS. DEEGAN. Granda’s not in a fit condition to sign any paper.

PATRICK. Now, Hagan, I know and you know what’s in that paper. You’d lay me out on the street.

OLD DEEGAN wakes up and sits, listening.

O’HAGAN. I can’t help that, Patrick.

PAUL. Give me room to speak a word.… Mr. O’Hagan, you live straight across the street, and many a bright pound Patrick Deegan has sent your way in the last twenty years. Is that right?

O’HAGAN. Quite right. Many a pound indeed.

PAUL. And many another he could throw your way in the next twenty years. Is that so?

O’HAGAN. Quite true.

PAUL. Now, I make bould to say that you’ve no sympathy with your moribund client marrying on the edge of the grave and robbing his own childer?

O’HAGAN. I certainly don’t think it’s right.

PAUL. Then it’s your duty to stop the match. Your duty to your client, to your neighbour, and yourself. And Patrick Deegan will make it worth your while both now and now-after.

PATRICK. Paul, I know you’re a smart man, but I can’t see what you’re driving at.

PAUL. No, God help you altogether, you’re a dull lot. Why, James Deegan, in his present state of coma, will sign one paper as fast as another—if his hand is properly held—and I suggest, Mr. O’Hagan, that we assign the farm to Dan and the pub. to Patrick.

PATRICK [grabs PAUL’S hand]. My life on you, ould Dublin!

MRS. DEEGAN. Yes, Paul Twyning has a head on him. He’s not all splutter and nonsense.

PAUL. Now, Mr. O’Hagan, what do you say to it? Deegan brothers will give you ten pounds apiece.

MRS. DEEGAN. Patrick will give twenty and Dan thirty.

PAUL. Fifty pounds, Mr. O’Hagan. No lawyer since the Stone Age ever refused fifty pounds.

O’HAGAN. Then I’ll be first to gain the distinction. I disapprove of James Deegan’s plans, but that’s his own affair. I won’t sell my old client in his sleep.

DEEGAN [yawns]. Thank you, Mr. O’Hagan. You’re your father’s son.

PAUL. We were only trying to tempt him, Mr. Deegan, but he’s incorruptible.… God works wonders now and then. Here stands a lawyer an honest man.

DEEGAN [rubs his eyes]. I suppose you want my signature, Mr. O’Hagan?

O’HAGAN. Yes, sir. This is ready. [Takes out his fountain-pen.]

DEEGAN. I’ll sign in one moment. [Rises unsteadily and wakes DAISY.] Wake up! This is no place to fall asleep.

DAISY. Yea … eh? … what?

DEEGAN. Wake up. We’re going home.

DAISY sits up and arranges her hat.

OLD DEEGAN puts on his specs., scans the document, and signs it.

DAISY [screams]. Oh, Jimes! Oh, gee! My money and papers—six hundred pounds—all gone! Stolen!

DEEGAN [scans the faces about him; then to DAISY]. Your money and papers are not far away. [Looks hard at PATRICK and MRS. DEEGAN.] Neither is the thief!

PATRICK staggers against the wall, and MRS. DEEGAN faints on the floor.

PAUL [loudly]. Water! water! And brandy for me!

Curtain

ACT III

Three days later. Time: evening.

The same Scene as in Act I.

PAUL TWYNING is mixing mortar on the kitchen floor.

ROSE M’GOTHIGAN comes in back. She has a small parcel in her hand.

PAUL. Lord bless me, Rose, have you ventured in here again?

ROSE. Aren’t the Deegans all away in the town?

PAUL. But they may be here any minute.

ROSE. My father’s in the town, too, and Daisy Mullan’s visiting my mother. And she’s crying sore about something.… So I just come out.

PAUL. Isn’t that all over now? I didn’t think Daisy had a single tear left in her reservoir. America soon dries up the tears, Rose.

ROSE. Well, she’s crying bitter about something.

PAUL. Let us make a stagger at cause and effect. Wasn’t there a young gentleman, not unlike a bank clerk, called on Daisy this forenoon?

ROSE. Sure it was me seen him first! From the Bank he was.

PAUL. Well, it could happen that his visit has something in common with Daisy’s tears. The young banker called here, and whispered something to ould Deegan, and it must have been something of ghastly importance for ould Deegan turned as white as paper and had to lean his body against the wall. Then he and the young banker druv off to town.

ROSE. Druv off to the bank. My father followed them in to see if he could find out what was wrong.

PAUL. And Dan’s in the town buying his Yankee outfit.

ROSE. Yes, he’s for Philadelphy on Saturday.… [Holds out parcel] Give Dan that, Paul, when he comes in.… It’s a muffler.…

PAUL. Ach, wait and give the sowl the muffler yourself.… Sure, you’ll see him before he takes the water.

ROSE. I may and I mayn’t. My father and me had a great battle last night, and I’m going to service. Give Dan that, Paul, and tell him Rose wished him luck.

PAUL [takes parcel]. Well, well. The coorse of true love never runs smooth, and this is no exception.

ROSE. And good-bye to yourself, Paul.

PAUL [takes her hand]. I’m to blame for all this trouble, Rose. I’ve riz a devil that I can’t lay.

ROSE. Oh, don’t say that, Paul.

PAUL. But I meant well, Rose. The first time I limped up to your door you fed me and gimme a welcome change of socks.… And poor Dan gimme a left-foot boot and said his father wanted a plasterer.

ROSE. Dan’s kind.

PAUL. Kind but unstable. I’d no sooner got this job than I commenced plotting a match between yourself and Dan, for match-making is my hobby; but, faith, I soon found that Dan was a shifty hero.

ROSE. He’s afraid of his father.

PAUL. That’s putting it mild enough, God knows. Mortal terror would apply to it.

ROSE [releases her hand]. I must be going, Paul.… If my father knew I was in here he’d kill me.

DAN DEEGAN comes in back. He is wearing a cheap new raincoat, a new hat, and carries a blackthorn and a tin box plastered with gaudy American labels.

PAUL. Ah, sure here is Willy Reilly himself!

DAN. No sconcing now, Paul Twyning! I’m in flames if I’ll stand it! You’re the means of getting me banished.

PAUL. I’ll leave you now, Dan, for you’re in a dangerous mood. [Gives ROSE parcel.] You can deliver that yourself. [He goes out back.]

ROSE. Maybe you wouldn’t take this, Dan? It’s a wee present.

DAN. Your fader met me in the town and flew at me like a tager!… Hunted me into Pat’s yard and affronted me .…

ROSE. He’s in a terrible pucker.

DAN. He vows he’ll have my blood afore I put my fut on the boat.

ROSE. I’m going away, Dan … to service.

DAN. Aye, so he said.… You’ll be well away.… I wish, Rose, you were coming with myself … across the raging main … the angry deep.… The emigration agent says I’ll make my fortune in six weeks herding sheep in Philadelphy.… Will you come, Rose—to the land of the setting sun?

ROSE. Not now, Dan. But if you send for me I’ll go.

DAN. That’s settled.… I’ll be as true as the stars above. [Takes the parcel.]

ROSE. It’s only a muffler.

DAN. The very thing I wanted.… I’ll wear it on deck of the good ship … and be thinking of yourself, Rose.…

DENIS M’GOTHIGAN’S angry voice is heard in the yard.

ROSE. Oh, Dan, Dan! My father!

DAN [wildly]. I’m in flames, but he’ll murder us!… In here … in here!

They both go into the cupboard.

PAUL [coming in back]. I told you they weren’t here, Denis. But you’re that misdoubtful. [DENIS comes in.] Now search the house.…

DENIS. They’re in here. They’re in this house somewhere. [DENIS has taken drink.] If I get my thumb on Dan I’ll not lave much of him to go to Americky. [Rushes over and looks into the room.] They’re not in here.…

PAUL. Nor they can’t be upstairs, for the stairs are blocked.…

DENIS. You’d try to smuggle them out if you could! But you’ll not fool Denis! I’ll stand outby and watch the house—if I stand for a week! [He goes out back.]

PAUL [speaks up to the ceiling]. If you’re up there, for heaven’s sake lie low.… For Denis is out for blood.

DAISY MULLAN comes in back.

DAISY. Say, Paul Twyning, I’m in a power of trouble, and I gotta talk to someone or bust.

PAUL. Well—talk. It’s more humane than the other. [Points upstairs.] But don’t talk too loud, for Dan Deegan and Rose are hiding up there from Denis.…

DAISY. Denis is waiting outside. He sure looks wild.… But that ain’t my trouble, I don’t mind telling you I’ve got myself in the soup with both feet. [Glances upwards] They couldn’t hear me up there, could they?

PAUL. Not if you talk in that key.

DAISY. I don’t know how it is, but I got a hunch that you’re the sort of feller would stick to a gel in trouble.…

PAUL. Go easy, now. I’m a plasterer myself.

DAISY. Waal, I ain’t no plasterer. Nor I ain’t joshing, neither. I’m too blamed unhappy right now. I’m waiting every minute to be arrested.…

PAUL [astonished]. Arrested! Taken into custody? A prisoner? For what, in the name of the whole Twelve Apostles?

DAISY [breaks down]. About that bank draft.… It was faked up. I thought it would have to go back to America, and that would gimme time to skip … but seems it was spotted in London.… [Sobs.]

PAUL. My sowl, this is a bad onion!

DAISY. It’s frightful.… The bank manager sent for me and old Deegan … but I was too skeert to go in.… Oh, I dunno whadda do.… [Sobs loudly.]

PAUL. Now listen to me. Whatever else a lady may do in my presence, she mustn’t dissolve in tears … for that would render me as soft in the brain as Dan Deegan himself. [Sits down beside her.] May I call you “Daisy,” just to comfort you?

DAISY. If you like.… Sure you ain’t married?

PAUL. Glory be to God, no. I’ve been the whole seven kinds of galoot, but I’m still single.

DAISY. I don’t want no joshing. I want help.

PAUL. Very well now. If you dry your eyes and promise not to wet them again, I’ll see what can be done. But if you do another weep, I’ll take to my heels, and you’ll never see me again.

DAISY [pulls herself together]. Waal, I’ll try to.… But I’m in a power of trouble.… I ain’t a professional crook.

PAUL. That’s obvious … or you wouldn’t break down over a trifle like this.

DAISY. I was trying to get even with old Deegan, but my plans miscarried and landed me in the wash.… The goldarned old grabber! he was the means of me quitting home at first. He grabbed our bit of land and left us high and dry.

PAUL. So I’ve been told. Then, I suppose, you meant to marry ould Deegan and grab the whole ninety-five acres?

DAISY. No, seh! Not on your life. I wouldn’t marry old Deegan—nor his fool son—not if they owned the landscape.… I just meant to fix up a match and then clear out with all I could rake up.

PAUL. A very meritorious idea.

DAISY. But now the whole thing has gone flop, and I ain’t got a cent to meet that draft.… Old Deegan thinks I got that money, but I ain’t.… True to heaven, Paul Twyning, that money was stolen in Pat Deegan’s saloon. Patrick or his wife, or yon goat of a son, swiped the lot—papers and all.

PAUL. Were the papers valuable?

DAISY. The papers wasn’t worth a cent. I was cook to a retired broker, and fished ’em out of the trash-basket.

PAUL [laughs]. Awh, that’s delicious! It’s a great pity the law has power to step in and spoil so fine a joke.

DAISY [produces a cablegram]. And I’d this cable cooked up and sent me by a friend.

PAUL [scanning it and grinning expansively]. You’re not slow, Daisy! My sowl, there’s not a slow joint in your body. [Hands back the cablegram.] Keep that cable like the sight of your eye, for ’twill come in useful anon.

DAISY [starts]. I hear Deegan’s car.… I hear it coming.… Oh, I can’t stick it.… I’m all nerves. [Shakes violently.]

PAUL. Listen to me, girl. Stiffen up and cut out them shivers. You’ve every decent card in the pack, and I’ve the Joker. If you play half a game we’ll sweep the board.…

DAISY. You think?

PAUL. No, I’m sure. Pay attention to this. Ould Deegan—the great lay lawyer—has made you an assignment of himself and his property. If he dares to go back on the contract, you hold out hard for a thousand pound.

DAISY. But the fake draft—how about it?

PAUL. Tell them it’s a good draft. Tell them you paid your money for it in New York like a decent girl, and if it isn’t in order, the bank is to blame, not you.

DAISY. But I got it in the trash-basket.…

PAUL. The broad Atlantic is rowling between you and the trash-basket.… Brazen it out on my lines, and you’ll win your case.…

The car is heard coming into the yard.

DAISY [looks out back window]. They’re all here … Patrick and Mrs. Deegan … and O’Hagan.… [Turns in.] Oh, Paul, where can I go?… I can’t stay here.…

PAUL. Go into the room, and listen carefully to the drift of our discourse.… I’ll give a professional cough when I want you to come out. [DAISY goes towards the room.] And I’m saying. If O’Hagan asks you any impertinent questions, refer him to your American solicitors. And if he wants to know the name of your solicitors say Brown and Fitzgerald, Broadway, New York. And if he wants a broker—refer him to Funk and Wignell, Wall Street.…

DAISY. I hope he don’t ask no questions.… [She goes into the room.]

PAUL [gets busy mixing mortar, and sings]

“Daisy, Daisy, gimme your answer, do;
For I’m half crazy all for the love of you.
’Twon’t be a stylish marriage,
For we can’t afford a carriage,
But you’ll look nate upon the sate
Of a bicycle built for two.”

OLD DEEGAN, O’HAGAN, PATRICK and MRS. DEEGAN come in.

PATRICK. Here’s the tramp vagabone now.… We’ll get the saddle on the right horse, by Mozes!

DEEGAN. Silence, sir, and let Mr. O’Hagan conduct the proceedings.

The table is brought to the centre and OLD DEEGAN and O’HAGAN sit down. The others stand.

O’HAGAN [opens his attaché]. Twyning, we’ve proof that you stole the money and papers from Miss Mullan’s bag.

PAUL [leans on the shovel]. It’s a blessid thing I haven’t a weak heart, Mr. O’Hagan, or I’d fall dead with apoplexy.

O’HAGAN. We’re not here to mince matters. You took the money, and we can prove it.

PAUL. If you can’t prove it, ’twill be a black day for you. But go on. Prove it.

O’HAGAN. Patrick Deegan, what are you prepared to swear?

PATRICK [excited]. I can swear Paul Twyning left me in the bar, and went into the snug, where my father and Daisy Mullan was sleeping, and rifled the bag and slipt out the side dure.

PAUL. Was that the reason yourself staggered like a drunk cock and your wife fainted on the flure, when the whillabillo went up that the money was stolen?

O’HAGAN. Patrick has made a clean breast of it. He admits having examined the bag, as a precautionary measure, but found it empty.

DEEGAN. Patrick and his wife are not guilty. The sum was too large for them. Neither of them is honest, but they wouldn’t have the nerve to steal six hundred pounds.

PATRICK [with uplifted hand]. May I fall dead if I lie! The bag was empty.

PAUL. Your intention was good, Patrick. Your father may think you’re not bold enough to risk a big sum, but I think your father is mistaken. The man who would put in his hand would take out the goods.

PATRICK. You took the money, Twyning! And I thought you were an honest man—after all them speeches you made.

PAUL. So I was—a paragon of virtue—till I entered your opium-den.

O’HAGAN. This is all beside the point.… You were the only person, Twyning, that actually saw the roll of money. Miss Mullan gave you a pound-note, and put the rest in her bag. Is that right?

PAUL. Perfectly correct. I’d be long sorry to deny receipt of a gift.

O’HAGAN. And you saw the roll of notes in her hand?

PAUL. Thank my God I’m not blind. I saw the rowl distinctly, and it as thick as my arm.

O’HAGAN. And you meant to catch the first train to Dublin, did you not?

PAUL. That was my intention. And that’s where your case falls down. For if I’d annexed yon rowl of money, I’d have hired a special.… Just fancy me coming back to plaster this duck-house at five bob a day, and I a millionaire! Why, ten hours later, I’d be sauntering down Grafton Street, with a cane in one hand and my suède gloves in the other.

DEEGAN. Mr. O’Hagan, you are on the wrong track. I told you all along that Paul Twyning was not the thief. I am convinced that Daisy Mullan has the money and papers concealed.…

PAUL. But why on earth should Daisy Mullan rob her own nest?

O’HAGAN [rising]. We’ll go across to her own house and ask her.…

PAUL. You won’t have to cross the wet fields.… I think Daisy is upstairs.…

O’HAGAN. Ah, just what I feared! A conspiracy. [Sits down.]

DEEGAN [angrily]. What is Daisy Mullan doing up my stairs?

PAUL. It’s my opinion she’s choosing wall-paper for the bridal-chamber.…

PAUL coughs conspicuously, and DAISY comes from the room.

DAISY. Quite a crowd here, ain’t the’?

O’HAGAN. What were you doing up my client’s stairs, madam?

DAISY. Up your client’s stairs? Your client ain’t got no stairs. This house is mine, stairs and all. See?

O’HAGAN. You’d better throw off that brazen cloak, and realise where you stand.…

DAISY. Say, what’s a-biting of you, dear?

O’HAGAN. Your fake draft is returned—worthless. Do you know what that means?

DAISY. Yaas. It means you folks don’t know nuthin about drafts. My draft was O.K.

O’HAGAN. The local bank holds Mr. Deegan responsible for the money. If you hand us the six hundred pounds we can settle with the bank and avoid further trouble. If you don’t, Mr. Deegan can have you arrested.

DEEGAN. And I will.

DAISY. The money’s somewhere in the Deegan family. I sure ain’t got it. I was drugged and robbed in Patrick Deegan’s awful den. [Flaring up.] What the all-sparkling hades do I care about the dab of money, compared with the loss of deeds and documents!

O’HAGAN. Why were you carting all those valuable papers around with you? Have you no solicitors?

DAISY. That’s my own business, smart Alick! B’gee, you may hear from my solicitors in a way you won’t like, and soon.

O’HAGAN. The sooner the better. Who are your solicitors?

DAISY. Messrs. Brown and Fitzgerald, Noo York.

O’HAGAN. And your brokers?

DAISY. Funk and Wignell, Wall Street. You cable rightaway and ask if Miss Daisy Mullan, of Lincoln Avenoo, is O.K. or not. I’ll pay the cable.

O’HAGAN. Good. I will. [Jots down the names.] Any cable address, do you know?

DAISY. They sure have, but my memory ain’t serving.

PAUL. I should say “Fitz” would get the one and “Funk” the other.

O’HAGAN. Thank you. I didn’t ask for your assistance.

PAUL. Oh, don’t mention it. I’m always glad to assist you without asking.

O’HAGAN. Mr. Deegan, I think we ought to cable one of those firms before we proceed further.

DEEGAN. If you think such firms exist by all means cable them.

O’HAGAN [rising]. We should have a reply in ten hours.…

PAUL. What! A message from New York in ten hours? I’m afraid that’s too quick. [Coughs at DAISY.]

DAISY. Nonsense! Why, I got this cablegram yesterday from Philadelphia in four hours. [Takes it out.]

O’HAGAN. May I have a look at that, please?

DAISY. Why, sure. Ain’t you never seen a cable? [Hands it to him.]

O’HAGAN [surprised]. Mr. Deegan, this is important.

DEEGAN. What is it?

O’HAGAN. It’s about house property. [Reads] “Would lease or buy property on Mount Airy. Cable lowest price. Spalding.” [Hands back the cable.] Who is Spalding?

DAISY. Why, Rupert G. Spalding—one of my tenants. He wants to buy the whole block and make a departmental store—the second largest in the world.

PAUL [drily]. The Yanks are a go-ahead people.

O HAGAN [perplexed]. Mr. Deegan, that cablegram puts another complexion on the case. [Sits down.]

DEEGAN. Who is to settle with the local bank? That’s the main point.

DAISY. Why, dear, ain’t the local bank got you and me both for security? I guess this slight misunderstanding won’t make no difference in our affections, will it?

DEEGAN. It will make all the difference in the world. You have your property on Mount Airy, and I have mine on solid ground. There will be no alliance.

PATRICK. That’s sense, by Mozes!

MRS. DEEGAN. It takes granda.

DAISY. And how about the assignment, granda?

DEEGAN. Mr. O’Hagan will answer that question.

O’HAGAN. Without marriage the assignment is waste-paper.

DAISY. But who huffs at the wedding? Not me.

O’HAGAN. My client has changed his mind.

PAUL [loudly]. Then, bedam, if he has changed his mind he’ll pay for it. Your client promised on his two knees to wed her, and if he goes back on that promise he must take the consequences. [To DAISY] I’m going to see fair play, stranger. I saw your fiancé at your feet and heard you accepting him. If there is justice left on earth I’m going to see you get a share of it.… Go now and get your hat and vanity-bag, and we’ll settle with the bank and then see a lawyer.…

DAISY. Settle with the bank, did you say?

PAUL. Certainly. Settle with the bank. That cablegram in your pocket is good for a million. And your breach of promise case is good for a cowld thousand.

DAISY. Paul Twyning, that’s my plan in a capsule. If you back me up in it I’ll make granda Deegan and his ten-cent lawyer sit up and howl.

PAUL. Back you up, is it? Paul Twyning has spoken. That is enough.… Go now and get ready for the bank, and hire your cousin Darby to drive us in state.

DAISY [animated]. I sure will.… Why, I’d depend my life on Paul Twyning right now.

PAUL. Bring your vanity-bag and all papers.

DAISY. Sure thing. [Hurries out.]

PAUL [despondently]. Well, I’ve been called the proudest man in all Dublin, but I’m going now to be the meanest clod in all Ireland. I won’t waste words. Daisy Mullan is a retired cook, and an adventuress.

Uproar.

DEEGAN. Silence! Go on, Paul. You astonish me.

PAUL. She has that six hundred pounds safe and sound, but not another brown penny in the world.

DEEGAN [in triumph]. O’Hagan, was I right or wrong?

O’HAGAN. Right, right.… Wonderful … man.

DEEGAN. Paul Twyning, how did you discover this, my friend?

PAUL. I was talking to her for a quarter of an hour before you come in, and I sent her upstairs lest she give us the slip altogether.…

DAN DEEGAN jumps out of the cupboard.

DAN. I’m in flames, but Paul Twyning’s a just man! I was hid in there the whole time him and Daisy was talking, and heard every word they said. She told him she was cook for a retired broker and got all her property—draft and all—in the trash-basket.

PAUL [piously]. See that, now! It always pays to do the straight thing.… Who ever’d have thought of Dan being in there all the time!

DEEGAN. Come forward, Daniel.

DAN. Yes, fader.

DEEGAN. Swear to the truth of that statement with uplifted hand.

DAN [with hand up]. Afore you and God, fader, I’m telling the truth, amen.… She said you grabbed her people’s bit of land, and she come back to get revenge.

O’HAGAN. That’s the solution now.… She’d the cablegram and all cooked for the purpose.… Paul Twyning, I’m ashamed to look in your honest face.… I hope you can forgive us all.

PAUL. To err is human; to forgive, divine. I freely forgive you all.

They murmur thanks, and PATRICK shakes hands with PAUL.

DAN. Is that all you want with me, fader?

DEEGAN. That’s all at present. For once in your life you have done me a small service.

DAN. Well, I’m going to hide in here again.

DENIS M’GOTHIGAN comes in fuming.

DENIS. Now I want no colyfoxin’! My daughter’s in this house somewhere, and I mean to find her.… [To DAN] Where’s my Rose?

DAN. The Lord knows that, Denis, amen.… I hain’t seen her this six weeks.

ROSE comes from the cupboard crying.

PAUL. Now, Dan! Let the whole world see whether you’re good enough to tie Rose M’Gothigan’s shoestrings. That blackthorn in your hand is not solely for ornamentation.

DAN [rushes beside ROSE and draws the blackthorn]. I’m in flames, but I’ll defend my own Rose to the death! I’ll have to fight the Blacks and Red Indians in Philadelphy, and I may as well practise a bit at home.… Now, Denis, I daar you!

PAUL [with a loud laugh]. Emancipated! Behold Dan Deegan emancipated!

DENIS. I’ll not leave this house till Rose comes home … and I’ll give her a wiggin’ when she comes.… [Sits down.]

DEEGAN. Paul Twyning, will you give Mr. O’Hagan and me a word in private?

PAUL. I will not. There has been far too much privacy and duplicity already. I’ll answer your questions here and now, or not at all.

DEEGAN. Well, I’m not very clear as to your plans.

PAUL. I can soon clear the air. Daisy and I are going to settle with the bank. When we get that done she’ll want me to go with her to a lawyer to frame up a case aginst Mr. Deegan. But I’ll turn on my heel and say, “Begone, adventuress! Paul Twyning is not a blackmailer!”

The DEEGANS applaud.

DENIS. Yaha, yaha!

PAUL. What are you “yahaing” about, Denis?

DENIS. At your honesty. What else?

PAUL. Now I knocked the hat off before, Denis, but I’ll knock the head off this time! [Severely] You’re an impudent little wart and ill-set. If you were man’s size I’d clout you one. If you articulate again, I’ll give you a bloody mouth.

PATRICK. Ould Dublin on the Liffey, by Mozes! Would fight with his own shadow.… Go on, Paul.

PAUL. And now for my own terms.

DEEGAN. Oh!

PAUL. Why do you ejaculate? As a man of the world, you didn’t expect a stranger to cultivate wrinkles over your affairs for nothing, did you?

DEEGAN. I expect nothing for nothing. Name your terms.

PAUL. Twenty pounds sterling. I want to hit Chicago a clout.

DEEGAN. Not unreasonable. I’ll do better, Paul. I’ll give you ten pounds and Daniel’s ticket and portmanteau.…

DAN [wildly]. Flames! am I not for the water?

DEEGAN. Silence, boy!… Mr. O’Hagan, has Daisy Mullan a case against me for breach of contract?

O’HAGAN. She has. Once she settles with the bank she has a very good case indeed. But without Paul Twyning’s evidence her case falls down.

PAUL. My sowl, with Dan’s ocean ticket and ten pounds in my fob, she’ll have some fun serving me with a summons.

The DEEGANS applaud.

DEEGAN. Paul Twyning, you are a man of ripe understanding. If you were in my shoes how would you meet this case?

PAUL. I’d sign the pub. over to Patrick and the farm to my son Daniel, the said Patrick to pay me a small yearly rent, and the said Daniel to pay me a pound a week for life, with the use of the grey mare and trap on Sundays, market-days and Court days.

DEEGAN. Paul Twyning, you are a gifted man.… Patrick and Daniel, would that settlement content you?

PATRICK. God bliss you, father. I’d never taste it again.

MRS. DEEGAN. It’s more than we desarve, granda.

DEEGAN [to DAN]. And what do you say, boy?

DAN [lamely]. Rose and me would be good to you, fader.… You could do all the plannin’, and we’d do the work.… Rose can milk cows and feed pigs and keep a house clean.

DEEGAN. That’s a wise answer, boy. I’ll speak to the priest myself, and you’ll be married in three days.

DENIS. She’ll not come empty-handed. I’ll give her thirty pound and the spotted cow.

DEEGAN. We neither want your spotted cow, nor your money, nor your friendship.

PAUL. Here! Mr. Deegan, let yourself and Denis shake hands. Dammit alive, life’s too short to quarrel, and it’s disedifying to see two good neighbours—the backbone of the parish—at loggerheads.

DEEGAN. Denis has heard what I said. If he wishes, after that, to shake hands, I have no objection.

DENIS. And you heard what I said, too [shaking hands with OLD DEEGAN]. I’ll speak out my mind, James Deegan. I’ve been trying and trying these thirty years past to get a good strong lawshoot agen you, but you always wriggled out one way or other, and you’ve tricked me agen.

DEEGAN. If I were a bit younger, Denis, I’d have met you in the Four Courts on this case; but I’ve beaten you at home.

DENIS. I admit. But if ever I get a chance at Dan.…

PAUL. Ah, quit talking, Denis.… You rural people are the devil for law. You’d try to get a writ on a rabbit, for trespass.

DAN. Come on, Rose, till I show you the big house.… I’m in flames, but this is a miracle. [He takes ROSE into the room.]

PATRICK [to MRS. DEEGAN]. Come on, Janey, till we get a look at the house, too. As Dan says, it’s a miracle. It is, by Mozes!

PATRICK and MRS. DEEGAN go into the room. DAISY comes in flashily dressed.

DAISY. Denis M’Gothigan here! Some more plotting? Some more crooked work, eh?

PAUL. Mr. Deegan has just settled Dan’s breach case, Miss Mullan, and I hope he’ll settle his own in due coorse.

DAISY. That’s up to himself. I don’t want no law, but I ain’t no softy. If Mr. Deegan wants a peaceable settlement, I’m quite ready to discuss.… I’ve figured up your assets, James Deegan, and reckon you’re worth about five thousand pounds. Don’t you think two thousand of that’s doo me for breach of contract?

DEEGAN. I’ll have to consult my lawyer about that.

DAISY. Waal, mind, I ain’t coming back here with my finger in my mouth to sue for terms. If you don’t want a settlement, say so, and I’ll see a lawyer in town.

O’HAGAN [rising]. Mr. Deegan, I want two words with you. Come outside.

OLD DEEGAN and O’HAGAN go out back.

DENIS [rising]. Faith, I’ll come with you. I want a drink at the pump. [He goes out back.]

DAISY. Paul Twyning, what game are you playing? You’ve kept me guessing all along the line. What are you up to?

PAUL. Now for my own Waterloo!… I meant to unfold my story on the way to town, Daisy, but I can as well unfold myself here.… I want your sweet self, Daisy.

DAISY. Whaaaaat!

PAUL. I’ve travelled Ireland, England, and parts of Scotland, but you’re the first woman I’ve encountered with even a suggestion of brains. Before I say another word, Daisy, let me ask you a question. What do you think of Paul Twyning’s intellectual equipment?

DAISY. I think you got that roll of money.

PAUL. My life on you! The money is here. [Shows her the roll of money.] Five hundred and ninety-nine pounds sterling. But the bank will never thumb it. Ould Deegan can pay the bank at his leisure. After his long reign of tyranny, a little touch of humility will do him good.… So what do you say, my honey, if we spend this rowl together?

DAISY. Do you care for me, Paul?

PAUL. If there is true love on earth, Daisy, I’ve found it. The first time I heard your sweet voice was at M’Gothigan’s barn-dance and I kicked off a year every time you spoke.

DAISY. And would you come to America, Paul?

PAUL. The dream of my life has been to salute the statue of Liberty in New York harbour.

DAISY. But what security have I that you mean a square deal?

PAUL. I can give substantial bail for my good behaviour. [Offers her the roll of notes.] Put that in your vanity-bag, dearest.

DAISY. No, sweetheart. You hang on to it yourself.… You’re a nice feller, and look good to me.… Kiss my hand.

PAUL. I’m glad to see you’re affectionate. [Kisses her hand.] We’ll pay Dublin a quiet visit, till this blows over, and then, as Dan says, “the raging main.”

DAISY. My cousin Darby’s going to drive us in. I can pick up my suit-case at the house, passing.

PAUL. Beautiful! We just have nice time to catch the last train … and Darby will drive home empty.

OLD DEEGAN, O’HAGAN and DENIS come in.

O’HAGAN. Miss Mullan, when you settle with the bank will you come right back here? I’ll wait here for you. And we’ll have our offer prepared.… It won’t be ungenerous.

DAISY. Waal, we’ll see. I’ll come right back.… Paul Twyning, are you ready?

PAUL. One moment. I want to see Dan. I want the loan of his shower-proof, for I can’t interview bankers in this raiment.… [He goes into the room.]

DAISY. I believe you folks have got the soft side of Paul Twyning, I do.

O’HAGAN. You are mistaken. There’s no soft side to Paul Twyning.

DAISY. Waal, I’m going to settle with the bank. [Taps her bag.] The money is here.… Not the money was stolen, but other money. And mind, I expect a square deal when I come back.

DEEGAN. And you’ll get it.

PAUL comes from the room, wearing DAN’S new coat and hat.

PAUL. Mr. Deegan, could you oblige me in a loan of ten pounds?

DEEGAN. Oh, I think so. [Gives him the money.]

PAUL. I may need this and I may not, but it’s always well to have it.… Now, Miss Mullan, is your equipage ready?

DEEGAN. Darby Mullan has his car at the gate.

DAISY. Does anyone want to come to town?

O’HAGAN. No, thanks. We all stay here till you come back.

PAUL. Well, good-bye for the present.… You won’t have long to wait.

PAUL and DAISY go out. PATRICK, DAN, MRS. DEEGAN and ROSE come from the room.

PATRICK. Are they away, father?

OLD DEEGAN. They’re off.… And in fifty years’ experience I’ve never been as near beaten.… But all has turned out well in the end.… Mr. O’Hagan has the agreements in his bag. I have no property now in the world. You have the public-house, Patrick, and you, Daniel, have the farm and Rose.… Let Daisy Mullan come back and do her worst.…

O’HAGAN takes out agreements and DEEGAN signs.

DAN. Just if her and Twyning ever comes back, fader.…

DEEGAN. What do you mean, sir? Of course they’re coming back.…

DAN [looks out the window]. I’m in flames, but I’ve my own notion about them coming back! The car’s stopped at Mullan’s, getting out shoot-cases.…

DEEGAN. She wants to show off with her American trappings.

DAN. I’m in flames, but all’s not right! They’re away galloping down the road and laughing like mad.…

DEEGAN. They’ll not laugh so much when they come back and hear my offer.…

PATRICK and MRS. DEEGAN. Ay, when they come back!

DAN. I’m in flames, Paul’s kissing the ould Yankee like a steam-engine.… And she’s letting him.… [Turns from the window.] Honest to God, amen, fader, I believe Paul and ould Daisy ’ill never be….

DEEGAN. Will never what, sir?

DAN. Oh, nothing, fader. Of course you know best. You’re a highly educated man.… And anyway, Paul or no Paul, Daisy or no Daisy, I’ve got my Rose. Amen.

He puts his arm round her as the Curtain falls.

THE END

The Westminster Press
411a Harrow Road
London W.9

Transcriber’s Notes

In the HTML version, semantic tagging has been added to the play. The tags are:

The character speaking: | <span class="speaker">
The line spoken: | <span class="speech">
A stage direction inside a line: | <span class="sd-in">
A stage direction on its own line: | <div class="stage-direction">

Line spacing around stage directions, and the capitalisation of names within stage directions, have been standardised in this edition. Other changes from the printed original:

- p. 19: Replaced “find” with “fine” in line “We’ve a fine hall door, sir.”

- p. 30: Replaced “Am’t” with “Amn’t” in line “Amn’t I a hero?”

- p. 39: Replaced “bag-gate” with “baggage” in line “Have I no personal baggage at all?”

- p. 43: Removed blank line after line “I can crawl back the road I come.”

- p. 82: Added period after scene description “His valise is lying on the floor.”

- p. 94: Added comma to line “I’ll put off this jacket, I’m warm.”

- p. 39: Added hyphen to “conversation-lozenger” in line “And didn’t you slip her a conversation-lozenger….”

- p. 182: Replaced “is’nt” with “isn’t” in line “It’s just as well for you it isn’t the Four Courts.”

New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.

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Table of Contents

- PROFESSOR TIM & PAUL TWYNING

- PROFESSOR TIM

- CHARACTERS
- ACT I
- ACT II
- ACT III

- PAUL TWYNING

- CHARACTERS
- ACT I
- ACT II
- ACT III

- THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE