Brian Friel Plays 1 (3 page)

Music

Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto in E Minor, Op. 64

Ceilidh music

‘All Round My Hat’ – first verse

‘She Moved through the Fair’ – second verse

‘California, Here I Come!’

‘Give the Woman in the Bed more Porter’

M
ADGE
:
Gar! Your tea!

PUBLIC
:
(
Off
) Right!

(
She
finishes
setting
the
table
and
is
about
to
go
to
the
scullery
door
when
PUBLIC GAR
marches
on
stage.
He
is
ecstatic
with
joy
and
excitement:
tomorrow
morning
he
leaves
for
Philadelphia.
)

PUBLIC
:
(
Singing
) ‘Philadelphia, here I come, right back where I started from …’ (
Breaks
off
and
catches
Madge.
) Come on, Madge! What about an old time waltz!

MADGE
:
Agh, will you leave me alone.

(
He
holds
on
to
her
and
forces
her
to
do
a
few
steps
as
he
sings
in
waltz
time.
)

PUBLIC
:
‘Where bowers of flowers bloom in the spring’ –

MADGE
:
(
Struggling
)
Stop it! Stop it! You brat you!

PUBLIC
:
Madge, you dance like an angel. (
Suddenly
lets
her
go
and
springs
away
from
her.
) Oh, but you’d give a fella bad thoughts very quick!

MADGE
:
And the smell of fish of you, you dirty thing!

(
He
grabs
her
again
and
puts
his
face
up
to
hers,
very
confidentially.
)

PUBLIC
:
Will you miss me?

MADGE
:
Let me on with my work!

PUBLIC
:
The truth!

MADGE
:
Agh, will you quit it, will you?

PUBLIC
:
I’ll tickle you till you squeal for mercy.

MADGE
:
Please, Gar …

PUBLIC
:
(
Tickling
her
) Will you miss me, I said?

MADGE
:
I will – I will – I will – I –

PUBLIC
:
That’s better. Now tell me: what time is it?

MADGE
:
Agh, Gar –

PUBLIC
:
What time is it?

MADGE
:
(
Looking
at
clock
) Ten past seven.

PUBLIC
:
And what time do I knock off at?

MADGE
:
At seven.

PUBLIC
:
Which means that on my last day with him he got ten minutes overtime out of my hide. (
He
releases
Madge.
) Instead of saying to me: (
Grandly
) ‘Gar, my son, since you are leaving me forever, you may have the entire day free,’ what does he do? Lines up five packs of flour and says: (
In
flat
dreary
tones
) ‘Make them up into two-pound pokes.’

MADGE
:
He’s losing a treasure, indeed!

PUBLIC
:
So d’you know what I said to him? I just drew myself up and looked him straight in the eye and said to him: ‘Two-pound pokes it will be’ – just like that.

MADGE
:
That flattened him.

(
She
goes
off
to
the
scullery.
He
stands
at
the
door
and
talks
in
to
her.
)

PUBLIC
:
And that wasn’t it all. At six o’clock he remembered about the bloody pollock, and him in the middle of the Angelus. (
Stands
in
imitation
of
the
Father:
head
bowed,
hands
on
chest.
In
flat
tones
–) ‘Behold-the-
handmaid-of-the
-Lord-Gut-and-salt-them-fish.’ So by God I lashed so much salt on those bloody fish that any poor bugger that eats them will die of thirst. But when the corpses are strewn all over Ballybeg, where will I be? In the little old USA! Yip-eeeeee! (
He
swings
away
from
the
scullery
door
and
does
a
few
exuberant
steps
as
he
sings
–) ‘Philadelphia, here I come, rightah backah where Ah started from –’ (
He
goes
into
his
bedroom,
flings
himself
down
on
his
bed,
rests
his
head
on
his
hands,
and
looks
at
the
ceiling.
Sings
alternate
lines
of
‘Philadelphia’
– first
half
– with
PRIVATE
(
off
)).

PUBLIC
:
It’s all over.

PRIVATE
:
(
Off,
in
echo-chamber
voice
) And it’s all about to begin. It’s all over.

PUBLIC
:
And it’s all about to begin.

PRIVATE
:
(
Now
on.
) Just think, Gar.

PUBLIC
:
Think …

PRIVATE
:
Think … Up in that big bugger of a jet, with its snout pointing straight for the States, and its tail belching smoke over Ireland; and you sitting up at the front (
PUBLIC
acts
this
) with your competent fingers poised over the controls; and then away down below in the Atlantic you see a bloody bugger of an Irish boat out fishing for bloody pollock and –

(
PUBLIC
nose-dives,
engines
screaming,
machine
guns
stuttering.
)

PUBLIC
:
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat.

PRIVATE
:
Abandon ship! Make for the life-boats! Send for Canon Mick O’Byrne!

(
PUBLIC
gains
altitude
and
nose-dives
again.
)

PUBLIC
:
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat.

PRIVATE
:
To hell with women and children! Say an Act of Contrition!

PUBLIC
:
Yip-eeeee!

(
He
finishes
taking
off
the
shop
coat,
rolls
it
into
a
bundle,
and
places
it
carefully
on
the
floor.
)

PRIVATE
:
It looks as if – I can’t see very well from the distance – but it looks as if – yes! – yes! – the free is being taken by dashing Gar O’Donnell (
PUBLIC
gets
back
from
the
coat,
poises
himself
to
kick
it
),
pride of the Ballybeg team. (
In
commentator’s
hushed
voice
)
O’Donnell is now moving back, taking a slow, calculating look at the goal, I’ve never seen this boy in the brilliant form he’s in today – absolute magic in his feet. He’s now in position, running up, and –

(
PUBLIC
kicks
the
shop
coat
into
the
air.
)

PUBLIC
:
Ya-hoooo! (
Sings
and
gyrates
at
same
time.
)

‘Philah-delph-yah, heah Ah come, rightah backah weah Ah
stahted from, boom-boom-boom-boom –’

(
He
breaks
off
suddenly
when
PRIVATE
addresses
him
in
sombre
tones
of
a
judge.
)

PRIVATE
:
Gareth Mary O’Donnell.

(
PUBLIC
springs
to
attention,
salutes,
and
holds
this
absurd
military
stance.
He
is
immediately
inside
his
bedroom
door,
facing
it.
)

PUBLIC
:
Sir.

PRIVATE
:
You are fully conscious of all the consequences of your decision?

PUBLIC
:
Yessir.

PRIVATE
:
Of leaving the country of your birth, the land of the curlew and the snipe, the Aran sweater and the Irish Sweepstakes?

PUBLIC
:
(
With
fitting
hesitation
) I-I-I-I have considered all these, Sir.

PRIVATE
:
Of going to a profane, irreligious, pagan country of gross materialism?

PUBLIC
:
I am fully sensitive to this, Sir.

PRIVATE
:
Where the devil himself holds sway, and lust– abhorrent lust – is everywhere indulged in shamelessly?

(
PUBLIC
winks
extravagantly
and
nudges
an
imaginary
man
beside
him.
)

PUBLIC
:
Who are you tellin’? (
Poker-stiff
again.
) Shamelessly, Sir, shamelessly.

(
MADGE
has
entered
from
the
scullery,
carrying
an
old
suitcase
and
a
bundle
of
clothes
.)

PRIVATE
:
And yet you persist in exposing yourself to these frightful dangers?

PUBLIC
:
I would submit, Sir, that these stories are slightly exaggerated, Sir. For every door that opens –

(
MADGE
opens
the
bedroom
door.
)

MADGE
:
Oh! You put the heart across me there! Get out of my road, will you, and quit eejiting about!

PUBLIC
:
Madge, you’re an aul duck.

MADGE
:
Aye, so. There’s the case. And there’s a piece of rope for I see the clasp’s all rusted. And there’s your shirts and your winter vests and your heavy socks, and you’ll need to
air them shirts before you – Don’t put them smelly hands on them!

PUBLIC
:
Sorry!

MADGE
:
See that they’re well aired before you put them on. He’s said nothing since, I suppose?

PUBLIC
:
Not a word.

PRIVATE
:
The bugger.

MADGE
:
But he hasn’t paid you your week’s wages?

PUBLIC
:
£3 15s – that’ll carry me far.

MADGE
:
He’ll have something to say then, you’ll see. And maybe he’ll slip you a couple of extra pounds.

PUBLIC
:
Whether he says good-bye to me or not, or whether he slips me a few miserable quid or not, it’s a matter of total indifference to me, Madge.

MADGE
:
Aye, so. Your tea’s on the table – but that’s a matter of total indifference to me.

PUBLIC
:
Give me time to wash, will you?

MADGE
:
And another thing: just because he doesn’t say much doesn’t mean that he hasn’t feelings like the rest of us.

PUBLIC
:
Say much? He’s said nothing!

MADGE
:
He said nothing either when your mother died. It must have been near daybreak when he got to sleep last night. I could hear his bed creaking.

PUBLIC
:
Well to hell with him –

MADGE
:
(
Leaving
) Don’t come into your tea smelling like a lobster-pot.

PUBLIC
:
If he wants to speak to me he knows where to find me! But I’m damned if I’m going to speak to him first!

(
MADGE
goes
off
to
the
scullery.
)

(
Calling
after
her
) And you can tell him I said that if you like!

PRIVATE
:
What the hell do you care about him. Screwballs! Skinflint! Skittery Face! You’re free of him and his stinking bloody shop. And tomorrow morning, boy, when that little ole plane gets up into the skies, you’ll stick your head out the window (
PUBLIC
acts
this
) and spit down on the lot of them!