Read Brian Friel Plays 1 Online

Authors: Brian Friel

Brian Friel Plays 1 (41 page)

BOOK: Brian Friel Plays 1
11.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

(
As
he
is
saying
the
last
few
words
he
is
also
turning
the
handle
on
the
phone.
)

FATHER:
Don’t touch that!

(
CASIMIR
drops
the
phone
in
panic
and
terror.
)

CASIMIR:
Christ! Ha-ha. O my God! That – that – that’s –

TOM:
It’s only the baby-alarm.

CASIMIR:
I thought for a moment Father was – was – was –

TOM:
Maybe I should turn it down a bit.

CASIMIR:
God, it’s eerie – that’s what it is – eerie – eerie –

(
The
phone
suddenly
rings
– and
his
panic
is
revived.
He
grabs
it.
)

CASIMIR:
Hello? Hello? Hello? Yes, I did ring, Mrs Moore. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m
very sorry. Could you try that call to Germany for me again? The number is Hamburg – Sorry, sorry, yes of course I gave it to you already; I am sorry – Yes, I’ll hold on – (
To
TOM
who
is
watching
him
)
Helga, my wife – my wife Helga – to let her know I’ve arrived safely—she worries herself sick if I don’t – (
Into
phone
)
Yes, just for the wedding on Thursday, to give Claire away, and then straight off again. Yes, indeed I’ll tell her that, Mrs Moore. Thank you, thank you. (
To
TOM
) Was always terrified of her, absolutely terrified; postmistress in Ballybeg ever since – Yes, yes, I’ll hold on.

(
TOM
fingers
the
limp
servant’s
bell
beside
the
fireplace.
)

TOM:
When did they go out of action?

CASIMIR:
What’s that?

TOM:
The bells.

CASIMIR:
Oh I suppose when there was nobody to ring them.
Or nobody to obey them. She ought to be at home now.

(
CLAIRE
begins
playing
another
nocturne.
ALICE
enters.
In
her
mid-thirties.
She
is
hangover
after
last
night.
As
she
enters
she
touches
her
cheek
which
has
a
bruise
mark
on
it.
)

ALICE:
Morning, everybody.

TOM:
It’s afternoon, Alice.

ALICE:
Is it?

(
She
blows
a
kiss
to
CASIMIR.
He
blows
one
back.
)

ALICE:
Am I the last down?

TOM:
Just about. Is Eamon still asleep?

ALICE:
He was up and about hours ago. He’s gone down to the village to visit his grandmother.

TOM:
And how are you today?

ALICE:
I misbehaved very badly last night, did I?

TOM:
Not at all. You just sat there by yourself, singing nursery rhymes.

ALICE:
That’s alright. Tom, isn’t it?

TOM:
Correct.

ALICE:
Dr Thomas Hoffnung from Chicago.

TOM:
You see – you were in great shape.

CASIMIR:
Hoffnung’s the German word for hope. So your name’s really Tom Hope. Terrific name, Alice, isn’t it? – Tom Hope! Calling Hamburg.

ALICE:
What?

CASIMIR:
Helga.

ALICE:
Give her my love.

CASIMIR:
She’s in terrific form today.

ALICE:
Is she?

CASIMIR:
Claire.

ALICE:
Oh – yes, yes. (
She
shades
her
eyes
with
her
hand
and
looks
outside.
)
Is it cold?

TOM:
No, it’s a beautiful day.

(
She
sits
on
top
of
the
step
and
holds
her
head
in
her
hands.
TOM
moves
back
to
CASIMIR
who
is
anchored
by
the
phone
.)

TOM:
Perhaps you could confirm a few facts for me, Casimir. This is where Gerard Manley Hopkins used to sit – is that correct?

CASIMIR:
Look at the arm-rest and you’ll see a stain on it.

TOM:
Where?

CASIMIR:
The other arm – at the front.

TOM:
Got it.

CASIMIR:
He used to recite ‘The Wreck of the
Deutschland’
to Grandmother O’Donnell and he always rested his teacup just there; and one afternoon he knocked it over and burned his right hand very severely.

(
TOM
is
writing
all
this
information
down
.)

TOM:
That would have been about –?

CASIMIR:
Shhhh. Yes, Mrs Moore? Sorry, sorry?

Yes-yes-yes – of course – thank you – thank you. (
He
hangs
up
.)
Something wrong with the lines. Can’t even get the Letterkenny exchange. Poor old Helga’ll think I’ve deserted her. Tell me again, Tom – I’m ashamed to say I’ve forgotten – what’s the title of your research?

TOM:
I can hardly remember it myself.

CASIMIR:
No, no, please, please.

TOM:
‘Recurring cultural, political and social modes in the upper strata of Roman Catholic society in rural Ireland since the act of Catholic Emancipation.’

CASIMIR:
Good heavens. Ha-ha.

TOM:
I know. It’s awful. I apologize.

CASIMIR:
No, no, no, don’t apologize. It sounds very – it sounds – Alice, isn’t it very, very? – Right, let’s be systematic. Judith has shown you the family records and the old estate papers, hasn’t she?

TOM:
Yeah.

CASIMIR:
And you’ve seen all the old diaries in the library?

TOM:
That’s all covered.

CASIMIR:
Splendid, splendid. So what you want now is – well, what?

TOM:
Family lore, family reminiscences. For example, where did this (
crucifix
)
come from?

CASIMIR:
Cardinal O’Donnell; present from Salamanca. No relation, just a great family friend. And a Donegal man, of course; a neighbour, almost. Remember him, Alice?

ALICE:
Who?

CASIMIR:
Cardinal O’Donnell.

ALICE:
Do I remember him? He must be dead seventy years.

CASIMIR:
He’s not.

ALICE:
At least.

CASIMIR:
Is he? Ah. Good heavens. I suppose you’re right. In that case. Well, let’s see what else we have. Oh, yes, everything has some association. Hopkins you know.

(
TOM
begins
writing
again.
)

TOM:
Got that.

CASIMIR:
And this is Chesterton.

TOM:
Sorry?

CASIMIR:
G. K. Chesterton.

TOM:
The ashtray?

CASIMIR:
The footstool.

TOM:
Foot –

CASIMIR:
He was giving an imitation of Lloyd George making a speech and he lost his balance and – Kraask! – Bam! – Smaak! – Boom! – down on his back across the fender. And you know the weight of Chesterton – he must be twenty stone! The fender’s still dented, isn’t it, Alice?

ALICE:
Yes.

(
She
goes
out
to
the
lawn
and
sits
on
one
of
the
deck-chairs.
CLAIRE
begins
to
play
Sonata
No.
3 in B
minor,
Op.
58 –
Third
Movement.
)

CASIMIR:
Sprained elbow and bruised ribs.

TOM:
Great.

CASIMIR:
Laid up in the nursery for five days.

TOM:
That could have been when? – doesn’t matter – I’ll check it out. How often did he visit Ballybeg Hall?

CASIMIR:
Oh, I’ve no idea – often, often, often – oh, yes. And Father and Mother spent part of their honeymoon with him in England, (
To
ALICE
) didn’t they? – (
Sees
she
is
gone.
)
Oh, they were very close friends. Father wanted me to be christened Gilbert Keith but Mother insisted on Casimir – he was a Polish prince – Mother liked that. And this (
chaise-longue
)
is Daniel O’Connell, The Liberator – tremendous horseman, O’Connell – see the mark of his riding-boots? And that’s the fifty-eight –

TOM:
The clock?

CASIMIR:
Chopin sonata – third movement.

TOM:
Oh.

CASIMIR:
And this (
candlestick
)
is George Moore, the writer – I wonder why that’s George Moore. And this (
book
)
is Tom Moore – you know – Byron’s friend –
(
Sings
)
‘Believe me if all those endearing young charms which I gaze on so fondly today’. And this (
Bible
)
is Hilaire Belloc; wedding present to Father and Mother. And this is Yeats. And –

TOM:
What’s Yeats?

CASIMIR:
This cushion (
on
chaise-longue
).

TOM:
Cushion – Yeats –

CASIMIR:
Oh, he was – he was just tremendous, Yeats, with those cold, cold eyes of his. Oh, yes, I remember Yeats vividly.

TOM:
That would have been when you were? –

CASIMIR:
On one occasion sat up three nights in succession, just there, on Daniel O’Connell, with his head on that cushion and his feet on Chesterton, just because someone had told him we were haunted. Can you imagine! Three full nights! But of course we weren’t haunted. There was never a ghost in the Hall. Father wouldn’t believe in ghosts. And he was quite peeved about it; oh, quite peeved. ‘You betrayed me, Bernard,’ he said to Father. ‘You betrayed me’, and those cold eyes of his burning with –

(
He
breaks
off
suddenly
because
CLAIRE
has
switched
from
the
Sonata
to
a
waltz
– A
flat
major
(
Posth.
)

‘The
Bedtime
Waltz’.
)

CASIMIR:
Listen! Listen! The Bedtime Waltz! Oh, that’s my favourite – that’s easily my favourite.

(
He
joins
ALICE
outside.
)

CASIMIR:
Alice, do you know what that is?

ALICE:
(
Sings
)
‘Now off to bed, my darlings

It’s time to say goodnight’

(
CASIMIR
and
ALICE
sing
together.
)

‘So up the stairs, my sweethearts

And soon you’ll be sleeping tight.’

(
TOM
has
joined
them
outside.
)

CASIMIR:
Beautiful, isn’t it? Oh, that’s easily my favourite; oh,
easily, easily. The Bedtime Waltz. It’s the A flat major actually but we call it The Bedtime – don’t we, Alice? – because as soon as Mother’d begin to play it, we’d have to dash upstairs – remember? – dash upstairs and wash ourselves and say our night prayers and be in bed before she’d finished. Isn’t it so beautiful? (
Sings
)
‘Now off to bed, my darlings …’

(
They
all
listen
to
the
music
for
a
few
moments.
)

CASIMIR:
My God, isn’t she playing well? The impending

BOOK: Brian Friel Plays 1
11.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Sea by John Banville
The Gift of Women by George McWhirter
Seraphs by Faith Hunter
Bloodstone by Paul Doherty