Brian Friel Plays 1 (4 page)

(
S. B
.
appears
at
the
shop
door.
He
is
in
his
late
sixties.
Wears
a
hat,
a
good
dark
suit,
collar
and
tie,
black
apron.
S. B
.
O’DONNELL
is
a
responsible,
respectable
citizen.
)

S. B
.:
Gar!

(
PUBLIC
reacts
instinctively.
PRIVATE
keeps
calm.
)

PRIVATE
:
Let the bugger call.

S. B
.:
(
Louder
) Gar!

(
Instinct
is
stronger
than
reason:
PUBLIC
rushes
to
his
door
and
opens
it.
But
as
soon
as
he
opens
it
and
looks
out
at
his
father
he
assumes
in
speech
and
gesture
a
surly,
taciturn
gruffness.
He
always
behaves
in
this
way
when
he
is
in
his
father’s
company.
)

PUBLIC
:
Aye?

S.B.
:
How many coils of barbed-wire came in on the mail-van this evening?

PUBLIC
: Two. Or was it three?

S.B
.:
That’s what I’m asking you. It was you that carried them into the yard.

PUBLIC
:
There were two – no, no, no, three – yes, three – or maybe it was … was it two?

S.B
.:
Agh!

(
S.B
.
retires
to
the
shop.
PUBLIC
and
PRIVATE
come
back
into
the
bedroom.
)

PRIVATE
:
What sort of a stupid bugger are you? Think, man! You went out and stood yarning to Joe the Post; then you carried one coil into the yard and came out with the sack of spuds for the parochial; then you carried in the second coil … and put it in the corner … and came out again to the van … and …

(
PUBLIC
skips
into
the
air.
)

Ah, what the hell odds! That’s his headache, old Nicodemus! After tomorrow a bloody roll of barbed-wire will be a mere bagatelle to you. (
In
cowboy
accent
)
Yeah, man. You see tham thar plains stretchin’ ’s far th’eye can see, man? Well, tham thar plains belongs to Garry the Kid. An’ Garry the Kid he don’t go in for none of your fancy fencin’. No siree. (
His
eye
lights
on
the
fresh
laundry
MADGE
brought
in.
)
And what’ll you wear on the plane tomorrow, old rooster, eh?

(
PUBLIC
picks
up
a
clean
shirt,
holds
it
to
his
chest,
and
surveys
himself
in
the
small
mirror
above
his
wash-handbasin.
) Pretty smart, eh?

PUBLIC
:
Pretty smart.

PRIVATE
:
Pretty sharp?

PUBLIC
:
Pretty sharp,

PRIVATE
:
Pretty oo-là-là?

PUBLIC
:
Mais oui.

PRIVATE
:
And not a bad looker, if I may say so.

PUBLIC
:
You may. You may.

PRIVATE
:
(
In
heavy
US
accent
)
I’m Patrick Palinakis, president of the biggest chain of biggest hotels in the world. We’re glad to have you, Mr O’Donnell.

PUBLIC
:
(
Sweet,
demure
)
And I’m glad to be here, Sir.

PRIVATE
:
Handsomely said, young man. I hope you’ll be happy with us and work hard and one day maybe you’ll be president of the biggest chain of biggest hotels in the world.

PUBLIC
:
That’s my ambition, Sir.

PRIVATE
:
You are twenty-five years of age, Mr O’Donnell?

PUBLIC
:
Correct.

PRIVATE
:
And you spent one year at University College Dublin?

PUBLIC
:
Yes, Sir.

PRIVATE
:
Would you care to tell me why you abandoned your academic career, Mr O’Donnell?

PUBLIC
:
(
With
disarming
simplicity
) Well, just before I sat my First Arts exam, Sir, I did an old Irish turas, or pilgrimage, where I spent several nights in devout prayer, Sir.

PRIVATE
:
St Patrick’s Pilgrimage – on Lough –?

PUBLIC
:
St Harold’s Cross, Sir. And it was there that I came to realize that a life of scholarship was not for me. So I returned to my father’s business.

PRIVATE
:
Yeah. You mentioned that your father was a businessman. What’s his line?

PUBLIC
:
Well, Sir, he has – what you would call – his finger in many pies – retail mostly – general dry goods – assorted patent drugs – hardware – ah – ah – dehydrated fish – men’s
king-size hose – snuffs from the exotic East … of Donegal – a confection for gourmets, known as Peggy’s Leg – weedkiller –
(
Suddenly
breaking
off:
in
his
normal
accent:
rolling
on
the
bed
–) Yahoooooo! It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France, then the Dauphiness, at Versailles –

PRIVATE
:
Let’s git packin’, boy. Let’s git that li’l ole saddle bag opened and let’s git packin’. But first let’s have a li’l ole music on the li’l ole phonograph. Yeah man. You bet. Ah reckon. Yessir.

(
PUBLIC
puts
a
record
an
the
player:
First
Movement,
Mendelssohn’s
Violin
Concerto.
PUBLIC
is
preening
himself
before
his
performance,
and
while
he
is
flexing
his
fingers
and
adjusting
his
bow-tie,
PRIVATE
announces
in
the
reverential
tones
of
a
radio
announcer:
)

The main item in tonight’s concert is the First Movement of the Violin Concerto in E minor, Opus 64, by Jacob Ludwig Felix Mendelssohn. The orchestra is conducted by Gareth O’Donnell and the soloist is the Ballybeg half-back, Gareth O’Donnell. Music critics throughout the world claim that O’Donnell’s simultaneous wielding of baton and bow is the greatest thing since Leather Ass died.

Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto, First Movement.

(
PRIVATE
sits
demurely
on
the
chair.
PUBLIC
clears
his
throat.
Now
PUBLIC
plays
the
violin,
conducts,
plays
the
violin,
conducts,
etc.
etc.
This
keeps
up
for
some
time.
Then
PRIVATE
rises
from
his
chair.
)

Agh, come on, come on, come on! Less aul foolin’. To work, old rooster, to work.

(
PUBLIC
stops.
Turns
player
down
low
and
changes
from
the
First
to
the
Second
Movement.
Takes
a
look
at
the
case
Madge
brought
in.
)

Ah, hell, how can any bloody bugger head into a jet plane with aul’ cardboard rubbish like that!

(
PUBLIC
examines
the
surface.
)

Dammit, maybe you could give it a lick of paint! Or wash it!

(
PUBLIC
spits
on
the
lid
and
rubs
it
with
his
finger.
)

God, you’ll rub a hole in the damn thing if you’re not careful! Maybe aul Screwballs’ll slip you a fiver tonight and you can get a new one in Dublin.

PUBLIC
:
What a hope!

(
PUBLIC
opens
the
case
and
sniffs
the
inside.
)

PRIVATE
:
Oh! Stinks of cat’s pee!

(
PUBLIC
lifts
out
a
sheet
of
faded
newspaper.
)

PUBLIC
:
(
Reads
) The
Clarion
– 1st January 1937.

PRIVATE
:
Precious medieval manuscript … my God, was it? … By God it was – the day they were married – and it (
the
case
)
hasn’t been opened since their honeymoon … she and old Screwballs off on a side-car to Bundoran for three days …

PUBLIC
:
O God, the Creator and Redeemer of all the faithful, give to the soul of Maire, my mother, the remission of all her sins, that she may obtain …

PRIVATE
:
She was small, Madge says, and wild, and young, Madge says, from a place called Bailtefree beyond the mountains; and her eyes were bright, and her hair was loose, and she carried her shoes under her arm until she came to the edge of the village, Madge says, and then she put them on …

PUBLIC
:
Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine …

PRIVATE
:
She was nineteen and he was forty, and he owned a shop, and he wore a soft hat, and she thought he was the grandest gentleman that ever lived, Madge says; and he – he couldn’t take his eyes off her, Madge says …

PUBLIC
:
O God, O God the Creator and Redeemer …

PRIVATE
:
And sometimes in that first year, when she was pregnant with you, laddybuck, the other young girls from Bailtefree would call in here to dress up on their way to a dance, Madge says, and her face would light up too, Madge says …

(
PUBLIC
puts
the
newspaper
carefully
inside
the
folds
of
a
shirt.
) … And he must have known, old Screwballs, he must have known, Madge says, for many a night he must have heard her crying herself to sleep … and maybe it was good of God to take her away three days after you were born … (
Suddenly
boisterous.) Damn you, anyhow, for a bloody stupid bastard! It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France, then the Dauphiness, at Versailles! And to hell with that bloody mushy fiddler!

(
PUBLIC
goes
quickly
to
the
record-player
and
sings
boisterously
as
he
goes.
)

PUBLIC
:
‘Philadelphia, here I come–’

PRIVATE
:
Watch yourself, nut-head. If you let yourself slip that way, you might find that–

PUBLIC
:
‘– right back where I started from.’

(
PUBLIC
has
taken
off
the
Mendelssohn
and
is
now
searching
for
another.
)

PRIVATE
:
Something lively! Something bloody animal! A bit of aul thumpety-thump!

(
PUBLIC
puts
on
the
record.
)

An’ you jist keep atalkin’ to you’self all the time, Mistah, ’cos once you stop atalkin’ to you’self ah reckon then you jist begin to think kinda crazy things – (
The
record
begins
– Any
lively
piece
of Ceilidhe
Band
music.
)
Ahhhhh!

PUBLIC
:
Yipeeeeeeeee!

(
PUBLIC
dances
up
and
down
the
length
of
his
bedroom.
Occasionally
he
leaps
high
into
the
air
or
does
a
neat
bit
of
foot-work.
Occasionally
he
lilts.
Occasionally
he
talks
to
different
people
he
meets
on
the
dance
floor.
)