Brian Friel Plays 1 (16 page)

MADGE
:
They’re going to call it Brigid.

S.B.
:
Brigid – that’s a grand name … Patrick, Brigid, and Colmcille …

(
She
takes
off
her
hat
and
coat.
)

Madge …

MADGE
:
You’ll get a cold padding about in yon rig.

S.B.
:
Madge, I’ll manage rightly, Madge, eh?

MADGE
:
Surely you will.

S.B.
:
I’ll get one of Charley Bonner’s boys to do the van on Tuesdays and Thursdays and I’ll manage rightly?

MADGE
:
This place is cold. Away off to bed.

S.B.
:
It’s not like in the old days when the whole countryside did with me; I needed the help then. But it’s different now. I’ll manage by myself now. Eh? I’ll manage fine, eh?

MADGE
:
Fine.

S.B.
:
D’you mind the trouble we had keeping him at school just after he turned ten. D’you mind nothing would do him but he’d get behind the counter. And he had this wee sailor suit on him this morning –

MADGE
:
A sailor suit? He never had a sailor suit.

S.B.
:
Oh, he had, Madge. Oh, Madge, he had. I can see him, with his shoulders back, and the wee head up straight, and the mouth, aw, man, as set, and says he this morning, I can hear him saying it, says he, ‘I’m not going to school. I’m
going into my daddy’s business’ – you know – all important – and, d’you mind, you tried to coax him to go to school, and not a move you could get out of him, and him as manly looking, and this wee sailor suit as smart looking on him, and – and – and at the heel of the hunt I had to go with him myself, the two of us, hand in hand, as happy as larks – we were that happy, Madge – and him dancing and chatting beside me – mind? – you couldn’t get a word in edge-ways with all the chatting he used to go through … Maybe, Madge, maybe it’s because I could have been his grandfather, eh?

MADGE
:
I don’t know.

S.B
.:
I was too old for her, Madge, eh?

MADGE
:
I don’t know. They’re a new race – a new world.

S.B
.:
(
Leaving
) In the wee sailor suit – all the chatting he used to go through … I don’t know either …

MADGE
:
(
Looking
at
case
) Tomorrow’ll be sore on him (
GAR
): his heart’ll break tomorrow, and all next week, and the week after maybe … Brigid – aye, it’s all right – (
Trying
out
the
sound
of
the
name
)
Brigid – Biddy – Biddy Mulhern – Brigid Mulhern – aye – like Madge Mulhern doesn’t sound right – (
Trying
it
out
) – Madge Mulhern – Madge Mulhern – I don’t know – It’s too aul’-fashioned or something … Has he his cap? (
Finds
it
in
the
pocket
of
the
coat.
Also
finds
an
apple
.)
… Aye, he has. And an apple, if you don’t mind – for all his grief. He’ll be all right. That Lizzy one’ll look after him well, I suppose, if she can take time off from blatherin’. Garden front and back, and a TV in the house of lords – I’ll believe them things when I see them! Never had much time for blatherin’ women … (
Remembering
)
An envelope … (
She
takes
two
notes
from
her
pocket,
goes
to
the
dresser,
and
finds
an
envelope.
She
puts
the
money
into
the
envelope
‚
and
slips
the
envelope
into
the
coat
pocket
.) That’ll get him a cup of tea on the plane. I had put them two pounds by me to get my feet done on the fair day. But I can wait till next month. From what I hear, there’s no big dances between now and then … (
She
stands
looking
at
the
bedroom
door.
)
So. I think that’s everything … (
She
raises
her
hand
in
a
sort
of
vague
benediction
,
then
shuffles
towards
the
scullery
.) When the boss was his (
GAR
’
s
) age, he was the very same as him: leppin, and eejitin’ about and actin’ the clown; as like as two peas. And when he’s (
GAR
) the age the boss is now, he’ll turn out just the same. And although I won’t be here to see it, you’ll find that he’s learned nothin’ in-between times. That’s people for you – they’d put you astray in the head if you thought long enough about them.

(
PUBLIC
and
PRIVATE
enter
from
the
shop
.)

PUBLIC
:
You down too? Turning into a night club, this place.

MADGE
:
I’m only getting back.

PUBLIC
:
Well, how’s the new Madge?

MADGE
:
Strong and healthy – and that’s all that matters. Were you and the boss chatting there?

PUBLIC
:
When’s the christening?

MADGE
:
Sunday. After last Mass.

PUBLIC
:
Madge Mulhern. Are you proud?

MADGE
:
I’m just tired, son. Very tired.

PUBLIC
:
You’re sure there’s nothing wrong, Madge?

MADGE
:
If there was something wrong, wouldn’t I tell you?

PRIVATE
:
Of course she would. Who else has she?

PUBLIC
:
Did you tell her she’s getting an elephant out of my first wages?

MADGE
:
Aye, so. The jars are up?

PUBLIC
:
They are.

MADGE
:
And the dishes washed?

PUBLIC
:
All done.

MADGE
:
I’ll give you a call at half-six, then.

PUBLIC
:
Madge – Madge, you’d let me know if – if he got sick or anything?

MADGE
:
Who else would there be?

PUBLIC
:
Just in case … not that it’s likely – he’ll outlive the whole of us …

MADGE
:
Good night.

PUBLIC
:
Sleep well, Madge.

MADGE
:
Sleep well yourself.

(
MADGE
goes
off
.
PUBLIC
and
PRIVATE
watch
her
shuffle
off
.)

PRIVATE
:
Watch her carefully, every movement, every gesture, every little peculiarity: keep the camera whirring; for this is a film you’ll run over and over again – Madge Going to Bed On My Last Night At Home … Madge … (
PUBLIC
and
PRIVATE
go
into
bedroom
.) God, Boy, why do you have to leave? Why? Why?

PUBLIC
:
I don’t know. I – I – I don’t know.

Quick
Curtai
n

for
Dan
Herr

MICHAEL
is twenty-two. Strong, regular features but not handsome.

SKINNER
is twenty-one. Very lean, very tense, very restless. He is described as ‘glib’ but the adjective is less than just. A quick volatile mind driving a lean body.

LILY
is forty-three. She has eleven children and her body has long since settled into its own comfortable contours. But poverty and child-bearing have not completely obliterated the traces of early prettiness.

POLICEMAN
:
Hegarty, my lord.

JUDGE
:
Speak up, Constable, please.

POLICEMAN:
Hegarty, my lord.

JUDGE
:
Yes.

POLICEMAN
:
Michael Joseph. Unmarried. Unemployed, Lived with his parents.

JUDGE
:
Age?

POLICEMAN
:
Twenty-two years, my lord.

JUDGE
:
Was the deceased known to you personally, Constable B?

POLICEMAN
:
No, my lord.

JUDGE
:
And when you arrived at the body, did you discover any firearms on his person or adjacent to his person?

POLICEMAN
:
I wasn’t the first to get there, my lord.

JUDGE
:
Would you answer my question?

POLICEMAN
:
I personally saw no arms, my lord.

JUDGE
:
Thank you.

(
Three
SOLDIERS
in
full
combat
uniform
run on
from right.
Two
of
them
grab
MICHAEL
by
the
feet
and
drag
him
off
right,
while
a
third,
tense
and
scared,
covers
them
with
his
rifle.
The
PHOTOGRAPHER
runs
off
left.
The
PRIEST
moves
to
LILY
.)

POLICEMAN
:
Doherty. Elizabeth. Married. Aged forty-three years.

JUDGE
:
Occupation?

POLICEMAN
:
Housewife, Also a cleaning woman. Deceased lived with her family in a condemned property behind the old railway – a warehouse that was converted into eight flats and …

JUDGE
:
We are not conducting a social survey. Constable. Was the deceased known to you?

POLICEMAN
:
No, my lord.

JUDGE
:
And did you discover any firearms on her person or adjacent to her person?

POLICEMAN
:
I wasn’t the first on the scene, my lord.

JUDGE
:
I am aware of that, Constable.

POLICEMAN
:
I saw no weapons, my lord.

(
The
PRIEST
moves
on
to
SKINNER
.
The
three
SOLDIERS
return
and
drag
LILY
off.
)

POLICEMAN
:
Fitzgerald. Adrian Casimir.

JUDGE
:
Pardon?

POLICEMAN
:
Fitzgerald …

JUDGE
:
I’ve got that.

POLICEMAN
:
Adrian Casimir.

JUDGE
:
Yes.

POLICEMAN
:
Aged twenty-one. Single. No fixed address.

JUDGE
:
You mean he wasn’t native to the city?

POLICEMAN
:
He was, my lord. But he moved about a lot. And we haven’t been able to trace any relatives.

JUDGE
:
Had the deceased a profession or a trade?

POLICEMAN
:
No, my lord.

JUDGE
:
Was he bearing any firearms – when you got to him?

POLICEMAN
:
Not when I got to him, my lord.

JUDGE
:
And was he known to you personally, Constable B?

POLICEMAN
:
Yes, my lord.

JUDGE
:
As a terrorist?

POLICEMAN
:
He had been in trouble many times, my lord. Petty larceny, disorderly behaviour – that sort of thing.

JUDGE
:
I see. Thank you, Constable.

(
The
PRIEST
goes
off
left.
The
POLICEMAN
follows
him.
The
three
SOLDIERS
enter
right
and
drag
SKINNER
away
as
before.
A
ceremonial
hat
(
the
Mayor’s
)
is
lying
beside
SKINNER
’
s
body.
One
of
the
SOLDIERS
takes
it
off
with
him.
)

JUDGE
:
I should explain that I have permitted soldiers and policemen to give evidence under pseudonym so that they may not expose themselves to the danger of reprisal. And before we adjourn for lunch, may I repeat once more and make abundantly clear once more my words of the first day: that this tribunal of inquiry, appointed by her Majesty’s Government, is in no sense a court of justice. Our only function is to form an objective view of the events which occurred in the City of Londonderry, Northern Ireland, on the tenth day of February 1970, when after a civil rights meeting British troops opened fire and three civilians lost their lives. It is essentially a fact-finding exercise; and our concern and our only concern is with that period of time when these three people came together, seized possession of a civic building, and openly defied the security forces. The facts we garner over the coming days may indicate that the deceased were callous terrorists who had planned to seize the Guildhall weeks before the events of February 10th; or
the facts may indicate that the misguided scheme occurred to them on that very day while they listened to revolutionary speeches. But whatever conclusion may seem to emerge, it must be understood that it is none of our function to make moral judgements, and I would ask the media to bear this in mind. We will resume at 2.30.

(
He
leaves.
Light
up
the
full
set.
Offstage:
a
civil
rights
meeting
is
being
held
in
Guildhall
Square
and
is
being
addressed
by
a
WOMAN
.
The
amplification
is
faulty
and
we
cannot
hear
what
she
is
saying;
but
the
speech
sounds
fiery
and
is
punctuated
by
clapping
and
cheering.
While
the
meeting
is
going
on
offstage,
DR DODDS
enters
left
and
addresses
the
audience.
An
elderly
American
professor
with
an
informal
manner.
)

DODDS
:
Good evening. My name is Philip Alexander Dodds. I’m a sociologist and my field of study is inherited poverty or the culture of poverty or more accurately the subculture of poverty. And since I’ll be using these terms off and on, let me explain what I mean by them. I’m talking about those people who are at the very bottom of the socio-economic scale and more specifically about their distinctive way of life – a way of life which is common to ghetto or slum communities all over the Western world and which is transmitted from generation to generation. And the first thing to be said about this culture or way of life is that it has two aspects; it is the way the poor adapt to their marginal position in a society which is capitalistic, stratified into classes, and highly individuated; and it is also their method of reacting against that society. In other words it is the method they have devised to cope with the hopelessness and despair they experience because they know they’ll never be successful in terms of the values and goals of the dominant society. And once it comes into existence – this way of life, this culture – it is handed down from parents to children and to their children, and thus its perpetuation is ensured. Because by the time children are six or seven they have usually taken on the basic values and attitudes of their subculture and aren’t psychologically geared to take advantage of changing conditions or increased opportunities
that may occur in their lifetime.

(
Suddenly
all
sounds
are
drowned
by
the
roar
of
approaching
tanks.
Their
noise
is
deafening
and
fills
the
whole
auditorium.
They stop.
Silence
for
five
seconds.
Then
the
WOMAN
who
is
addressing
the
meeting
:)

WOMAN
:
Stand your ground! Don’t move! Don’t panic! This is your city! This is your city!

(
Her
voice
is
drowned
by
shooting – rubber
bullets
and
CS
gas – and
immediate
pandemonium
in
the
crowd.
Panic.
Screaming.
Shouting.
The
revving
of
engines
as
tanks
and
water-cannon
pursue
fleeing
groups.
More
rubber
bullets
and
the
quick
plop
of
exploding
gas-canisters.
Very
slowly
the
noise
fades
to
background.
As
it
does,
DODDS
resumes
as
calmly
as
before.
)

DODDS
:
People with a culture of poverty are provincial and locally orientated and have very little sense of history. They know only their own troubles, their own neighbourhood, their own local conditions, their own way of life; but they don’t have the knowledge or the vision or the ideology to see that their problems are also the problems of the poor in the ghettos of New York and London and Paris and Dublin – in fact all over the Western world. To give you some examples: they share a critical attitude to many of the values and institutions of the dominant class; they share a suspicion of government, a detestation of the police, and very often a cynicism to the church. But the very moment they acquire an objective view of their condition, once they become aware that their condition has counterparts elsewhere, from that moment they have broken out of their subculture, even though they may still be desperately poor. And any movement – trade union, religious, civil rights, pacifist, revolutionary – any movement which gives them this objectivity, organizes them, gives them real hope, promotes solidarity, such a movement inevitably smashes the rigid caste that encases their minds and bodies.

(
DODDS
goes
off
left.
As
he
leaves,
a
quick
succession
of
shots –
and
MICHAEL
staggers
onstage
right.
He
has
been
blinded
by
CS
gas,
can
scarcely
breathe,
and
is
retching.
Before
he
gets
to
the
centre
of
the
stage
he
collapses
on
his
hands
and
knees
and
his
forehead
rests
on
the
ground.
Just
as
he
drops,
LILY
enters
right.
She,
too,
is
affected
by
gas,
but
not
as
badly
as
MICHAEL
.
She
holds
a
handkerchief
up
to
her
streaming
eyes
and
her
free
hand
is
extended
in
front
of
her
as
if
she
were
blind.
She,
too,
is
gasping
for
breath.
She
bumps
into
MICHAEL
on
the
ground
and
without
a
word
staggers
past
him.
SKINNER
races
on
from
right.
He
has
been
caught
by
a 
water-
cannon
– the
upper
half
of
his
body
is
soaked.
He
is
looking
about
frantically
for
somewhere
to
hide.
He
races
past
MICHAEL
,
then
past
LILY
,
and
runs
upstage.
He
discovers
the
door
into
the
parlour
and
flings
it
open.
He
glances
inside
and
then
calls
to
LILY
.)