Cecil.But I never said she was the only one, did I? [Argumentatively.] And one can't help being in love with people when oneisin love, can one? I couldn'thelpfalling in love with you, for instance, the moment I saw you. You looked simply splendid. It was such a splendid day too.Of courseI fell in love with you.
Evelyn[slightly appeased by his compliment, drying her eyes]. But you seem to fall in love with such a lot of people.
Cecil.I do. [Mischievously.] But oughtyouto throw stones at me? After all, being in love with more than one person is no worse than having more than one person in love with you. How about Reggie?
Evelyn.Reggie? [The sparrows' chatter starts again.]
Cecil[nods]. Reggie's in love with you, isn't he? So am I. And both at once too! I'm only in love with one person at a time.
Evelyn[rebelliously]. I can't help Reggie being in love with me.
Cecil.And I can't helpmybeing in love with you. That's just my point. I knew you'd see it.
Evelyn.I don't see it at all. Reggie is quite different from you. Reggie's love is true and constant....
Cecil.Well, I'm aconstantlover if you come to that.
Evelyn.You aren't. You know you aren't.
Cecil.Yes, I am. A constant lover is a lover who is constantly in love.
Evelyn.Only with the same person.
Cecil.It doesn't say so. It only says constant.
Evelyn[half-laughing]. How ridiculous you are! [Turns away.]
Cecil[sigh of relief]. That's right. Now you're good-tempered again.
Evelyn.I'm not.
Cecil.What a story!
Evelyn.I'm not. I'm very,veryangry.
Cecil.That's impossible. You can't possibly be angry and laugh at the same time, can you? No one can. And youdidlaugh. You're doing it now.
[She does so unwillingly.]
So don't let's quarrel any more. It's absurd to quarrel on such a fine day, isn't it? Let's make it up, and be lovers again.
[The sparrows die away.]
Evelyn[shaking her head]. No.
Cecil.Please!
Evelyn[shaking her head]. No.
Cecil.Well, you're very foolish. Love isn't a thing to throw away. It's too precious for that. Love is the most beautiful thing in the whole world. You said so yourself not ten minutes ago.
Evelyn.I didn't. You said it. [Looking down.]
Cecil.But you said it after me. [Gently and gravely.] Eve, dear, don't be silly. Let's be in love while we can. Youth is the time to be in love, isn't it? Soon you and I will be dull and stupid and middle-aged like all the other tedious people. And then it will be too late. Youth passes so quickly. Don't let's waste a second of it. They say the May-fly only lives for one day. He is born in the morning. All the afternoon he flutters over the river in the sunshine, dodging the trout and flirting with other May-flies. And at evening he dies. Think of the poor May-fly who happens to be born on a wet day! The tragedy of it!
Evelyn[softly]. Poor May-fly.
Cecil.There! You're sorry for the May-fly, you see. You're only angry with me.
Evelyn.Because you're not a May-fly.
Cecil.Yes, I am. A sort of May-fly.
Evelyn[with suspicion of tears in her voice]. You aren't. How can you be? Besides, you said you were a cuckoo just now.
Cecil.I suppose I'm a cuckoo-May-fly. For Ihatewet days. And if you're going to cry again, it might just as well be wet, mightn't it? So do dry your eyes like a good girl. Let me do it for you. [Does it with her handkerchief.]
[She laughs ruefully.]
There, that's better. And now we're going to be good children again, aren't we?
Cecil[holding out hand]. And you'll kiss and be friends?
Evelyn.I'll be friends, of course. [Sadly.] But you must never kiss me again.
Cecil.What a shame! Why not?
Evelyn. Because you mustn't.
Cecil[cheerfully]. Well, you'll sit down again anyhow, won't you? just to show we've made it up. [Moves towards tree.]
Evelyn[shakes head]. No.
Cecil[disappointed; turns]. A.... Then you haven't really made it up.
Evelyn.Yes, I have. [Picks up her hat.] But I must go now. Reggie's coming down by the five o'clock train, and I want to be at the station to meet him. [Holds out hand.] Good-by, Mr. Harburton.
Cecil[taking hand]. Eve! You're going to accept Reggie! [Pause.]
Evelyn[half to herself]. I wonder.
Cecil.And he'll have to tell your mother?
Evelyn.Of course.
Cecil[drops her hand]. Poor Reggie! Sohisromance ends too!
Evelyn.It won't! If I marry Reggie I shall make him very happy.
Cecil.Very likely. Marriage may be happiness, but I'm hanged if it's romance!
Evelyn.Oh! [Exclamation of impatience.]
[She turns away and exitsR.]
[Cecil watches her departure with a smile half-amused, half-pained, till she is long out of sight. Then with half a sigh turns back to his tree.]
Cecil[re-seating himself]. Poor Reggie! [Re-opens his book and settles himself to read again.]
[A cuckoo hoots loudly from a distant thicket and is answered by another. Cecil looks up from his book to listen as the curtain falls.]
[Curtain.]
Copyright, 1920, by Stewart & Kidd Company.All rights reserved.
The professional and amateur stage rights of this play are strictly reserved by the author, to whose dramatic representative, Frank Shay, in care Stewart & Kidd Co., Cincinnati, Ohio, applications for permission to produce it should be made.
A Play
By Dhan Gopal Mukerji
[Time:The Fifteenth Century.]
[Place:A Monastery on one of the foothills of Himalaya.]
[Scene:In the foreground is the outer court of a Monastery. In the center of the court is a sacred plant, growing out of a small altar of earth about two feet square. On the left of the court is a sheer precipice, adown which a flight of stone steps—only a few of which are visible—connects the Monastery with the village in the valley below.
To the right are the temple and the adobe walls and the roof of the monastery cells. There is a little space between the temple and the adobe walls, which is the passage leading to the inner recesses of the monastery. Several steps lead to the doors of the temple, which give on the court. In the distance, rear, are the snowy peaks of the Himalayas, glowing under the emerald sky of an Indian afternoon. To the left, the distances stretch into vast spaces of wooded hills. Long bars of light glimmer and die as the vast clouds, with edges of crimson, golden and silver, spread portentously over the hills and forest.
A roll of thunder in the distance, accompanies the rise of the curtain.]
Shanta.[He is reading a palm-leaf manuscript near the Sacred Plant. He looks up at the sky.] It forbodes a calamity.
[Suddenly the Temple doors open. Shukra stands framed in the doorway. Seeing that Shanta is alone, Shukra walks down the steps toward him.]
Shukra.Are you able to make out the words?
Shanta.Aye, Master.
Shukra.Where is Kanada?
Shanta.He will be here presently. Listen, master: it sayeth: "Only a hair's breadth divides the true from the false. Upon him who by thought, word or deed confuses the two, will descend the Judgment of Indra."
Shukra.The thunder of Indra is just. It will strike the erring and the unrighteous no matter where they hide themselves; in the heart of the forest or in the silence of the cloisters, Indra's Judgment will descend on them. Even the erring heart that knows not that it is erring will be smitten and chastised by Indra. [Thunder rumbles in the distance.]
Shanta.Master, when you speak, you not only fill the heart with ecstasy, but also the soul with the beauty of truth.
Shukra.To praise is good. But why praise me, who have yet to find God and,—[Shakes his head sadly.]
Shanta.You will find Him soon; your time is nigh.
Shukra.I wish it were true.
Shanta.Master, if there be anything that I can do for you. If I could only lighten your burden a little,—
Shukra.Thou hast done that already. All the cares of the monastery thou hast taken from me. Thou hast bound me to thee by bonds of gratitude that can never break. [Enter Kanada.] Ah, Kanada, how be it with you to-day? [Coming to him.]
Kanada.[He is a lad of twenty and two.] By your blessing I am well and at peace. Have you finished your meditation?
Shukra.[Sadly.] Nine hours have I meditated, but—I shall say the prayers now. [Enters the temple and shuts the door.]
Kanada.He seems not to be himself.
Shanta.When he is in meditation for a long time, he becomes another being.
Kanada.There is sadness in his eyes.
Shanta.How can he be sad,—he who has risen above joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain, hate and love?
Kanada.Above love, too?
Shanta.Yea, hate and love being opposite, are Maya, illusion!
Kanada.Yet we must love the world.
Shanta.Yea, that we do to help the world.
Kanada.The Master is tender to the villagers even if they lead the worldly life.
Shanta.We be monks. We have broken all the ties of the world, even those of family, so that we can bestow our thoughts, care and love upon all the children of God. Our love is impartial. [The thunder growls in the distance.]
Kanada.Yea, that is the truth. Yet I think the Master loves thee more than any other.
Shanta.Nay, brother. He loves no one more than another. I have been with him ten years; that makes him depend on me. But if the truth were known,—he loves none. For he loves all. Indra, be my witness: the Master loveth no one more than another.
Kanada.Ah, noble-souled Master! Yet I feel happy to think that he loveth thee more than any.
Shanta.He loves each living creature. He is not as the worldly ones who love by comparison—this one more, the other less. Last night, as the rain wailed without like a heart-broken woman, how his voice rose in song of light and love! He is one of God's prophets, and a true singer of His praise.
Kanada.I can hear him yet.
Shanta.I will never forget the ineffable joy that glowed in his words. Only he who has renounced all ties, can speak with such deep and undying love. No anxiety—
Kanada.It was that of which I would speak to thee. Dost thou not see sadness and anxiety in the Master's face?
Shanta.He is deep in thought—naught else.
Kanada.Ever since that message was brought him the other day, he has seemed heavy hearted. It was melancholy tidings.
Shanta.Nay, that message had naught to do with him. [Thunder growls. The Temple doors open. Shukra comes out of the Temple and shuts the doors behind him. Then he stands still in front of the Temple.]
Shukra.[Calling.] Kanada.
Kanada.Yea, Master. [He goes up to Shukra, who gives him some directions. Kanada exits; Shukra stands looking at the sky.]
Shanta.How wonderful a vision he is! As he stands at the threshold of the temple he seems like a new God, another divinity come down to earth to lead the righteous on to the realms celestial. Ah, Master, how grateful am I to have thee as my teacher! I thank Brahma for giving thee to me.
[Enter Kanada. Shukra then walks to Shanta, with Kanada following him.]
Kanada.Master, all is ready.
Shukra.Go ye to the village; ask them if all be well with them. When the heavens are unkind—ah, if it rains another day all the crops will be destroyed. What will they live on? No, no, it cannot be. Go ye both down to them and take them my blessings: Tell them we will make another offering to Indra to-night. It must not rain any more.
Shanta.Bring out begging bowls, Kanada.
Kanada.Shall I bring the torches, too? [Crossing.]
Shukra.The clouds may hide the moon; yea, the torches, too. [Kanada exitsR.]
Shukra.Yea. [Thunder growls above head.] The storm grows apace. I hope thou wilt find shelter ere it breaks. [A short silence.] The world is growing darker and darker each day. Sin and Vice are gathering around it like a vast coiling Serpent. We monks be the only ones that can save it and set it free. Shanta, be steadfast; strengthen me. Help me to bring the light to the world. Thou art not only my disciple, but my friend and brother. [He embraces Shanta.] Save me from the world.
Kanada.[Entering.] Here be—[Stops in surprise.]
Shukra.[Releasing Shanta.] Come to me, Kanada. [The latter does so, Shukra putting an arm around Kanada's neck.] Little Brother—
Kanada.[Radiantly.] Master—
Shukra.Be brave and free—free from the delusions of this world, Sansara. Go yet to the village; take them our blessings! Hari be with them all! May ye return hither safely. [Thunder and lightning.] Ah, Lord Indra!—Look, it is raining yonder. Go, hasten—
Shanta.[Taking a begging bowl and torch from Kanada.] Come!
Shukra.[Putting his hands on their heads.] I bless ye both. May Indra protect ye—[the rest of his words are drowned by the lightning flash and peal of thunder].
[The two disciples intone:"OM Shanti OM."They go down the steps.]
Shukra.May this storm pass. OM Shiva. Shiva love you, my Shanta. For ten long years he has been with me; he has greatly helped me in my search after Him who is the only living Reality. To-day I am nearer God—I stand at the threshold of realization. I seem to feel that it will not be long before the Veil will be lifted and I shall press my heart against the heart of the ultimate mystery—Who comes there? [Listens attentively]. They cannot have gone and come back so soon. Ha! another illusion! These days I am beset by endless illusions. Perhaps that betokens the end of my search, as the gloom is always thickest ere the dawn. Yea, after this will come the Light; I will see God! [Hears a noise; listens attentively.] Are they already returning? [Calling.] Shanta! [He crosses and looks down. Thunder rolls very loudly now. He does not heed that. Suddenly he recoils in agitation. Footsteps are heard from below, rising higher and higher. Shukra rubs his eyes to make sure that he has really seen something that is not an illusion. He goes forward a few steps. The head of an old man rises into view, Shukra is stupefied; walks backwards until his back touches the Sacred plant. He stands still. The old man at last climbs the last step. He has not noticed Shukra. He looks at the Himalayas in the rear. Then his eyes travel over the monastery walls—Now suddenly they catch sight of Shukra.]
Shukra.What seek ye here?
Old Man[eyeing him carefully]. Ah, Shukra! dost thou not recognize thine aged father? [He goes to Shukra with outstretched arms.]
Shukra.I have no father.
Old Man.But I am thy father. Did not my messenger come the other day? [Silence.] Did he lie to me? Dost thou not know thy mother is—
Shukra.Thy messenger came.
Old Man.Then come thou home at once. There is not time to be lost. Come, my son, ere thy mother leaves this earth.
Shukra.I cannot go.
Old Man.Thou canst not go? Dost thou not know that thy mother is on her death-bed?
Shukra.I have renounced the world. For twelve years I have had no father, nor mother.
Old Man.Thou didst leave us, but we did not renounce thee. And now thou shouldst come.
Shukra.I told thy messenger that I have no father nor mother,—I cannot come.
Old Man.I heard it all. If you art born of us, thou canst not have a heart of stone? Come, my son: I, thy father, implore thee.
Shukra.Nay, nay; God alone is my father.
Old Man.Hath it not been said in the scriptures that thy parents are thy God? Thy father should be obeyed.
Shukra.That was said by one who had not seen the Truth, the Light.
Old Man.I command thee in the name of the Scriptures.
Shukra.God alone can command me.
Old Man.Vishnu protect me! Art thou dreaming, my child? Yonder lies thy mother, fighting death,—
Shukra.I have heard it all.
Old Man.And yet thou wilt not go?
Shukra.Nay, father, I cannot go. The day I took the vow of a monk, that day I cut the bond that binds me to you all. I must be free of all ties. I must love none for myself that I may love all for God. Here I must remain where God has placed me, until He calls me elsewhere.
Old Man.But thy mother lies, fighting with each breath. She wishes to see thee.
Shukra.I cannot come.
Old Man.But thou must.
Shukra.I would if I could; but my life is in the hands of God.
Old Man[mocking]. God! Thy life belongs to God? Who gave thee life? Not God, but she who lies there dying; what ingratitude! This, indeed, is the age of darkness; sons are turning against their fathers,—and killing their own mother.
Shukra[quietly]. I may not love one more than another; my steps, as my heart, go whither God guides them.
Old Man[mocking]. Truth is thy witness?
Shukra.May Indra himself punish me if I love one more than another. Hear me, Indra. [The roll of thunder above.]
Old Man[in desperation]. Come, my son, in the name of thine own God I pray to thee, come to thy mother. I kneel at thy feet and beg for this boon. [He does so.]
Shukra[raising him to his feet. He puts his own head down on the old man's feet.]
Old Man.Then thou comest? [Shukra rises to his feet.]
Shukra[hesitating]. There is a law in the Sacred books that says an ascetic should see the place of his birth every twelfth year.
Old Man.And it is twelve years now since thou didst renounce us! Ah! blessed be the law.
Shukra.Yet, father, if I go, I go not in obedience to the law, but since the desire to see my mother is uppermost in me, I who dreamt not of the law hitherto—yea, now I hasten to abide by the law. Ah, what mockery! It is not the letter of the law, but the spirit in us that judges us sinners or saints. Now if I go with thee to obey the law, that would be betraying the law.
Old Man.Betraying the law!
Shukra.Thought alone is the measure of our innocence. He who thinks evil is a doer of evil indeed. Nay, nay, tempt me not with the law. I must remain here. I must keep my vow. [He looks up to heaven; it is covered with enormous black clouds.]
Old Man.The law is not written in the heavens. It is inscribed in the heart of man. Obey the dictates of thy heart.
Shukra.God alone shall be obeyed. I cannot betray His command. I, who am an ascetic, must not yield to the desire to see my mother—Nay! God—
Old Man.What manner of God is He that deprives a dying mother of her son? Such a God never was known in Hindu life. No such God lives, nor breathes. [Thunder and lightning.]
Shukra.Erring Soul, do not blaspheme your creator. He is the God of Truth—God of Love.
Old Man[disdainfully]. God of Love,— How can He be God of Love if He dries up the stream of thy heart and blinds thy reason as the clouds blind the eyes of the Sun? Nay, thou liest. It is not the God of Love, but the God of thine insane self—self-love that makes thee rob thy mother of her only joy in life. I—yea, I will answer to God for thee. If, by coming to see thy mother, thou sinnest, I ask God to make me pay for thy sin. Come, obey thy father,—I will take the burden of thy sin, if sin it be.
Shukra.Nay, each man pays for his sins as each man reaps the harvest of his own good deeds. None can atone for another. Ah, God! cursed be the hour when I was born. Cursed,—
Old Man[angrily]. Thou cursest thy birth?
Shukra.Yea, to be born in this world of woe is a curse indeed.
Old Man.Then curse thy tormented mind and thy desolate heart; curse not,—
Shukra.Nay, I curse the hour that saw me come to this earth of delusion and Maya. I do curse,—
Old Man.Thou dost dare curse the hour when thou wert born! Ah, vile sinner! To curse the hour of thy birth when thy mother is dying! God be my witness, he has incurred his father's wrath. Now,—no God can save thee.
Shukra.Nay, nay,—
Old Man.Shukra. I, thy father, thy God in life, curse thee. Thou hast deprived thy mother of her child, and her death of its solace. Thou hast incurred the wrath of the Spirits of all thy departed ancestors.
Shukra[cries out]. Not thus; not thus. [Thunder and lightning, the whole sky is swept by the clouds.]
Old Man.Not thus? Thus alone shall it be. Cursed be thou at night; cursed be thou by day; cursed be thou going; cursed be thou coming. Thou art cursed by the spirit of the race, by the spirit of God. [Continued thunder and lightning.]
Shukra[falling at his father's feet]. I beseech thee, my father,—
Old Man[shrinking away]. Touch me not. [Going left.] Cursed art thou in Life and Death forever.
Shukra.God!—Father, go not thus.
Old Man.I am not thy father. [Deafening and blinding thunder and lightning.]
Shukra.Father—
Old Man[going down the steps]. Pollute not my hearing by calling me thy father. May the judgment of Indra be upon thee! [He totters down out of sight, left, in anger and horror.]
Shukra.Father, hear, oh hear! [The rain comes down in a deluge; thunder and lightning. The rain blots everything out of sight. It pours in deep, dark sheets, through which the chains and sheets of lightning burn and run. After raining awhile, the sky clears. In the pale moonlight, Shukra is seen crouching near the Sacred plant. He is wet and disheveled. He slowly rises, swaying in exhaustion. Voices are heard below.]
Shukra.Can it be that it is over? Has Indra judged me and found me free of error? Yea, were I in error, the lightning would have struck me. I lay there blinded by rain awaiting my death. It did not come. Yea, Indra has judged! [Noises below; he does not hear.] O, thou shadowy world, I am free of thee at last. Free of love and loving, free of all bondage. I have no earthly ties,—I lean on God alone. At last, I am bound to no earthly being, not even—[strange pause]—not even,—Shanta. [He becomes conscious of the noise of approaching footsteps and the light of the torches from below.] Who is that? [He goes forward a few steps. Enter Kanada, torch in hand.]
Kanada.Master, Master.
Shukra.Kanada, thou,—[a pause, very brief but poignant]. Why this agitation? Shanta, where is Shanta?
Kanada.Shanta is—
Shukra[seeing the other torches rising suddenly]. Speak! Who comes hither?
Kanada.They bring a dead man.
Shukra. Who is he? [As a premonition of the truth comes over him.] Where is Shanta?
Kanada[blurts out]. At the foot of the hill the lightning struck him.
Shukra[with a terrible cry]. Shanta,—my Shanta! [Two men carrying torches with one hand, and dragging something white with the other, come up the steps. This vision silences Shukra. A pause follows. Another torch is seen rising behind them.]
Shukra[slowly], Shanta,—gone. [Pause again, looking into the starry heavens.] This is the Judgment of Indra!
[Curtain.]
Copyright, 1909, by Lady Gregory.All rights reserved.
PERSONSMichael Miskell}[Paupers].Mike McInerneyMrs. Donohoe[a Countrywoman].
Reprinted from "Seven Short Plays," by Lady Gregory, published by G. P. Putnam'sSons, by permission of Lady Gregory and Messrs. G. P. Putnam's Sons.
All acting rights, both professional and amateur, are reserved in the United States, Great Britain, and all countries of the Copyright Union, by the author. Performances forbidden and right of presentation reserved.
Application for the right of performing this play or reading it in public should be made to Samuel French, 28 West 38th Street, New York City, or 26 South Hampton Street, Strand, London.
A Play
By Lady Gregory
[Scene:A ward in Cloon Workhouse. The two old men in their beds.]
Michael Miskell.Isn't it a hard case, Mike McInerney, myself and yourself to be left here in the bed, and it the feast day of Saint Colman, and the rest of the ward attending on the Mass.
Mike McInerney.Is it sitting up by the hearth you are wishful to be, Michael Miskell, with cold in the shoulders and with speckled shins? Let you rise up so, and you well able to do it, not like myself that has pains the same as tin-tacks within in my inside.
Michael Miskell.If you have pains within in your inside there is no one can see it or know of it the way they can see my own knees that are swelled up with the rheumatism, and my hands that are twisted in ridges the same as an old cabbage stalk. It is easy to be talking about soreness and about pains, and they maybe not to be in it at all.
Mike McInerney.To open me and to analyze me you would know what sort of a pain and a soreness I have in my heart and in my chest. But I'm not one like yourself to be cursing and praying and tormenting the time the nuns are at hand, thinking to get a bigger share than myself of the nourishment and of the milk.
Michael Miskell.That's the way you do be picking at me and faulting me. I had a share and a good share in my early time, and it's well you know that, and the both of us reared in Skehanagh.
Mike McInerney.You may say that, indeed, we are both of us reared in Skehanagh. Little wonder you to have good nourishment the time we were both rising, and you bringing away my rabbits out of the snare.
Michael Miskell.And you didn't bring away my own eels, I suppose, I was after spearing in the Turlough? Selling them to the nuns in the convent you did, and letting on they to be your own. For you were always a cheater and a schemer, grabbing every earthly thing for your own profit.
Mike McInerney.And you were no grabber yourself, I suppose, till your land and all you had grabbed wore away from you!
Michael Miskell.If I lost it itself, it was through the crosses I met with and I going through the world. I never was a rambler and a card-player like yourself, Mike McInerney, that ran through all and lavished it unknown to your mother!
Mike McInerney.Lavished it, is it? And if I did was it you yourself led me to lavish it or some other one? It is on my own floor I would be to-day and in the face of my family, but for the misfortune I had to be put with a bad next door neighbor that was yourself. What way did my means go from me is it? Spending on fencing, spending on walls, making up gates, putting up doors, that would keep your hens and your ducks from coming in through starvation on my floor, and every four footed beast you had from preying and trespassing on my oats and my mangolds and my little lock of hay!
Michael Miskell.O to listen to you! And I striving to please you and to be kind to you and to close my ears to the abuse you would be calling and letting out of your mouth. To trespass on your crops is it? It's little temptation there was for my poor beasts to ask to cross the mering. My God Almighty! What had you but a little corner of a field!
Mike McInerney.And what do you say to my garden that your two pigs had destroyed on me the year of the big tree being knocked, and they making gaps in the wall.
Michael Miskell.Ah, there does be a great deal of gaps knocked in a twelve-month. Why wouldn't they be knocked by the thunder, the same as the tree, or some storm that came up from the west?
Mike McInerney.It was the west wind, I suppose, that devoured my green cabbage? And that rooted up my Champion potatoes? And that ate the gooseberries themselves from off the bush?
Michael Miskell.What are you saying? The two quietest pigs ever I had, no way wicked and well ringed. They were not ten minutes in it. It would be hard for them to eat strawberries in that time, let alone gooseberries that's full of thorns.
Mike McInerney.They were not quiet, but very ravenous pigs you had that time, as active as a fox they were, killing my young ducks. Once they had blood tasted you couldn't stop them.
Michael Miskell.And what happened myself the fair day of Esserkelly, the time I was passing your door? Two brazened dogs that rushed out and took a piece of me. I never was the better of it or of the start I got, but wasting from then till now!
Mike McInerney.Thinking you were a wild beast they did, that had made his escape out of the traveling show, with the red eyes of you and the ugly face of you, and the two crooked legs of you that wouldn't hardly stop a pig in a gap. Sure any dog that had any life in it at all would be roused and stirred seeing the like of you going the road!
Michael Miskell.I did well taking out a summons against you that time. It is a great wonder you not to have been bound over through your lifetime, but the laws of England is queer.
Mike McInerney.What ailed me that I did not summons yourself after you stealing away the clutch of eggs I had in the barrel, and I away in Ardrahan searching out a clocking hen.
Michael Miskell.To steal your eggs is it? Is that what you are saying now? [Holds up his hands.] The Lord is in heaven, and Peter and the saints, and yourself that was in Ardrahan that day put a hand on them as soon as myself! Isn't it a bad story for me to be wearing out my days beside you the same as a spancelled goat. Chained I am and tethered I am to a man that is ram-shacking his mind for lies!
Mike McInerney.If it is a bad story for you, Michael Miskell, it is a worse story again for myself. A Miskell to be next and near me through the whole of the four quarters of the year. I never heard there to be any great name on the Miskells as there was on my own race and name.
Michael Miskell.You didn't, is it? Well, you could hear it if you had but ears to hear it. Go across to Lisheen Crannagh and down to the sea and to Newtown Lynch and the mills of Duras and you'll find a Miskell, and as far as Dublin!
Mike McInerney.What signifies Crannagh and the mills of Duras? Look at all my own generations that are buried at the Seven Churches. And how many generations of the Miskells are buried in it? Answer me that!
Michael Miskell.I tell you but for the wheat that was to be sowed there would be more side cars and more common cars at my father's funeral (God rest his soul!) than at any funeral ever left your own door. And as to my mother, she was a Cuffe from Claregalway, and it's she had the purer blood!
Mike McInerney.And what do you say to the banshee? Isn't she apt to have knowledge of the ancient race? Was ever she heard to screech or to cry for the Miskells? Or for the Cuffes from Claregalway? She was not, but for the six families, the Hyneses, the Foxes, the Faheys, the Dooleys, the McInerneys. It is of the nature of the McInerneys she is I am thinking, crying them the same as a king's children.
Michael Miskell.It is a pity the banshee not to be crying for yourself at this minute, and giving you a warning to quit your lies and your chat and your arguing and your contrary ways; for there is no one under the rising sun could stand you. I tell you you are not behaving as in the presence of the Lord.
Mike McInerney.Is it wishful for my death you are? Let it come and meet me now and welcome so long as it will part me from yourself! And I say, and I would kiss the book on it, I to have one request only to be granted, and I leaving it in my will, it is what I would request, nine furrows of the field, nine ridges of the hills, nine waves of the ocean to be put between your grave and my own grave the time we will be laid in the ground!
Michael Miskell.Amen to that! Nine ridges, is it? No, but let the whole ridge of the world separate us till the Day of Judgment! I would not be laid anear you at the Seven Churches, I to get Ireland without a divide!
Mike McInerney.And after that again! I'd sooner than ten pound in my hand, I to know that my shadow and my ghost will not be knocking about with your shadow and your ghost, and the both of us waiting our time. I'd sooner be delayed in Purgatory! Now, have you anything to say?
Michael Miskell.I have everything to say, if I had but the time to say it!
Mike McInerney.[Sitting up.] Let me up out of this till I'll choke you!
Michael Miskell.You scolding pauper you!
Mike McInerney.[Shaking his fist at him.] Wait a while!
Michael Miskell.[Shaking his fist.] Wait a while yourself!
[Mrs. Donohoe comes in with a parcel. She is a countrywoman with a frilled cap and a shawl. She stands still a minute. The two old men lie down and compose themselves.]
Mrs. Donohoe.They bade me come up here by the stair. I never was in this place at all. I don't know am I right. Which now of the two of ye is Mike McInerney?
Mike McInerney.Who is it is calling me by my name?
Mrs. Donohoe.Sure amn't I your sister, Honor McInerney that was, that is now Honor Donohoe.
Mike McInerney.So you are, I believe. I didn't know you till you pushed anear me. It is time indeed for you to come see me, and I in this place five year or more. Thinking me to be no credit to you, I suppose, among that tribe of the Donohoes. I wonder they to give you leave to come ask am I living yet or dead?
Mrs. Donohoe.Ah, sure, I buried the whole string of them. Himself was the last to go. [Wipes her eyes.] The Lord be praised he got a fine natural death. Sure we must go through our crosses. And he got a lovely funeral; it would delight you to hear the priest reading the Mass. My poor John Donohoe! A nice clean man, you couldn't but be fond of him. Very severe on the tobacco he was, but he wouldn't touch the drink.
Mike McInerney.And is it in Curranroe you are living yet?
Mrs. Donohoe.It is so. He left all to myself. But it is a lonesome thing the head of a house to have died!
Mike McInerney.I hope that he has left you a nice way of living?
Mrs. Donohoe.Fair enough, fair enough. A wide lovely house I have; a few acres of grass land ... the grass does be very sweet that grows among the stones. And as to the sea, there is something from it every day of the year, a handful of periwinkles to make kitchen, or cockles maybe. There is many a thing in the sea is not decent, but cockles is fit to put before the Lord!
Mike McInerney.You have all that! And you without e'er a man in the house?
Mrs. Donohoe.It is what I am thinking, yourself might come and keep me company. It is no credit to me a brother of my own to be in this place at all.
Mike McInerney.I'll go with you! Let me out of this! It is the name of the McInerneys will be rising on every side!
Mrs. Donohoe.I don't know. I was ignorant of you being kept to the bed.
Mike McInerney.I am not kept to it, but maybe an odd time when there is a colic rises up within me. My stomach always gets better the time there is a change in the moon. I'd like well to draw anear you. My heavy blessing on you, Honor Donohoe, for the hand you have held out to me this day.
Mrs. Donohoe.Sure you could be keeping the fire in, and stirring the pot with the bit of Indian meal for the hens, and milking the goat and taking the tacklings off the donkey at the door; and maybe putting out the cabbage plants in their time. For when the old man died the garden died.
Mike McInerney.I could to be sure, and be cutting the potatoes for seed. What luck could there be in a place and a man not to be in it? Is that now a suit of clothes you have brought with you?
Mrs. Donohoe.It is so, the way you will be tasty coming in among the neighbors at Curranroe.
Mike McInerney.My joy you are! It is well you earned me! Let me up out of this! [He sits up and spreads out the clothes and tries on coat.] That now is a good frieze coat ... and a hat in the fashion.... [He puts on hat.]
Michael Miskell[alarmed]. And is it going out of this you are, Mike McInerney?
Mike McInerney.Don't you hear I am going? To Curranroe I am going. Going I am to a place where I will get every good thing!
Michael Miskell.And is it to leave me here after you you will?
Mike McInerney[in a rising chant]. Every good thing! The goat and the kid are there, the sheep and the lamb are there, the cow does be running and she coming to be milked! Plowing and seed sowing, blossom at Christmas time, the cuckoo speaking through the dark days of the year! Ah, what are you talking about? Wheat high in hedges, no talk about the rent! Salmon in the rivers as plenty as hurf! Spending and getting and nothing scarce! Sport and pleasure, and music on the strings! Age will go from me and I will be young again. Geese and turkeys for the hundreds and drink for the whole world!
Michael Miskell.Ah, Mike, is it truth you are saying, you to go from me and to leave me with rude people and with townspeople, and with people of every parish in the union, and they having no respect for me or no wish for me at all!
Mike McInerney.Whist now and I'll leave you ... my pipe [hands it over]; and I'll engage it is Honor Donohoe won't refuse to be sending you a few ounces of tobacco an odd time, and neighbors coming to the fair in November or in the month of May.
Michael Miskell.Ah, what signifies tobacco? All that I am craving is the talk. There to be no one at all to say out to whatever thought might be rising in my innate mind! To be lying here and no conversible person in it would be the abomination of misery!
Mike McInerney.Look now, Honor.... It is what I often heard said, two to be better than one.... Sure if you had an old trouser was full of holes ... or a skirt ... wouldn't you put another in under it that might be as tattered as itself, and the two of them together would make some sort of a decent show?
Mrs. Donohoe.Ah, what are you saying? There is no holes in that suit I brought you now, but as sound it is as the day I spun it for himself.
Mike McInerney.It is what I am thinking, Honor.... I do be weak an odd time.... Any load I would carry, it preys upon my side ... and this man does be weak an odd time with the swelling in his knees ... but the two of us together it's not likely it is at the one time we would fail. Bring the both of us with you, Honor, and the height of the castle of luck on you, and the both of us together will make one good hardy man!
Mrs. Donohoe.I'd like my job! Is it queer in the head you are grown asking me to bring in a stranger off the road?
Michael Miskell.I am not, ma'am, but an old neighbor I am. If I had forecasted this asking I would have asked it myself. Michael Miskell I am, that was in the next house to you in Skehanagh!
Mrs. Donohoe.For pity's sake! Michael Miskell is it? That's worse again. Yourself and Mike that never left fighting and scolding and attacking one another! Sparring at one another like two young pups you were, and threatening one another after like two grown dogs!
Mike McInerney.All the quarreling was ever in the place it was myself did it. Sure his anger rises fast and goes away like the wind. Bring him out with myself now, Honor Donohoe, and God bless you.
Mrs. Donohoe.Well, then, I will not bring him out, and I will not bring yourself out, and you not to learn better sense. Are you making yourself ready to come?
Mike McInerney.I am thinking, maybe ... it is a mean thing for a man that is shivering into seventy years to go changing from place to place.
Mrs. Donohoe.Well, take your luck or leave it. All I asked was to save you from the hurt and the harm of the year.
Mike McInerney.Bring the both of us with you or I will not stir out of this.
Mrs. Donohoe.Give me back my fine suit so [begins gathering up the clothes], till I go look for a man of my own!
Mike McInerney.Let you go so, as you are so unnatural and so disobliging, and look for some man of your own, God help him! For I will not go with you at all!
Mrs. Donohoe.It is too much time I lost with you, and dark night waiting to overtake me on the road. Let the two of you stop together, and the back of my hand to you. It is I will leave you there the same as God left the Jews!
[She goes out. The old men lie down and are silent for a moment.]
Michael Miskell.Maybe the house is not so wide as what she says.
Mike McInerney.Why wouldn't it be wide?
Michael Miskell.Ah, there does be a good deal of middling poor houses down by the sea.
Mike McInerney.What would you know about wide houses? Whatever sort of a house you had yourself it was too wide for the provision you had into it.
Michael Miskell.Whatever provision I had in my house it was wholesome provision and natural provision. Herself and her periwinkles! Periwinkles is a hungry sort of food.
Mike McInerney.Stop your impudence and your chat or it will be the worse for you. I'd bear with my own father and mother as long as any man would, but if they'd vex me I would give them the length of a rope as soon as another!
Michael Miskell.I would never ask at all to go eating periwinkles.
Mike McInerney[sitting up]. Have you any one to fight me?
Michael Miskell[whimpering]. I have not, only the Lord!
Mike McInerney.Let you leave putting insults on me so, and death picking at you!
Michael Miskell.Sure I am saying nothing at all to displease you. It is why I wouldn't go eating periwinkles, I'm in dread I might swallow the pin.
Mike McInerney.Who in the world wide is asking you to eat them? You're as tricky as a fish in the full tide!
Michael Miskell.Tricky is it! Oh, my curse and the curse of the four and twenty men upon you!
Mike McInerney.That the worm may chew you from skin to marrow bone! [Seizes his pillow.]
Michael Miskell[seizing his own pillow]. I'll leave my death on you, you scheming vagabone!
Mike McInerney.By cripes! I'll pull out your pin feathers! [throwing pillow].
Michael Miskell[throwing pillow]. You tyrant! You big bully you!
Mike McInerney[throwing pillow and seizing mug]. Take this so, youstabbingruffian you!
[They throw all within their reach at one another, mugs, prayer books, pipes, etc.]
[Curtain.]
Acting rights reserved by Pierre Loving.All rights reserved.