Brian Friel Plays 1 (46 page)

ALICE:
What?

CASIMIR:
Did you see me wince?

CLAIRE:
You did. I saw you. I saw you.

ALICE:
What are you doing?

CASIMIR:
Croquet. (
To
CLAIRE
) My turn – right?

CLAIRE:
I’ll let you off this time. (
To
ALICE
) Keep an eye on him – he cheats.

ALICE:
Where are the –?

CLAIRE:
But he’s still not winning. (
To
CASIMIR
) And watch where you’re swinging that mallet.

ALICE:
Oh my God.

(
She
closes
her
eyes
and
sinks
back
in
her
seat.
The
game
continues,
UNCLE
GEORGE
enters
the
study
– his
usual
entrance
– and
is
out
on
the
lawn
before
he
discovers
it
is
occupied.
He
stops,
looks
around.
)

WILLIE:
Hello, Mr George.

(
UNCLE GEORGE
goes
back
into
the
study
– and
off
)

EAMON:
Hello, Uncle George. Goodbye, Uncle George. Not one of you is aware that on the day of our wedding Uncle George shook my hand and spoke seven words. And the seven words he spoke were: ‘There’s going to be a great revolution.’ And I thought that after all those years of silence and contemplation that must be a profound remark. (
EAMON
is
now
beside
TOM
.
He
sits
very
close
to
him
and
smiles
warmly
at
him
.)
Wasn’t I a fool?

TOM:
Were you?

EAMON:
I’m wiser now.

TOM:
Good.

EAMON:
And I’ve solved your problem.

TOM:
Which one’s that, Eamon?

EAMON:
Your book.

TOM:
Have I a problem?

EAMON:
It has to be a fiction – a romantic fiction – like Helga the Hun.

TOM:
Yeah?

EAMON:
A great big block-buster of a gothic novel called

Ballybeg
Hall
– From
Supreme
Court
to
Sausage
Factory
;
four generations of a great Irish Catholic legal dynasty; the gripping saga of a family that lived its life in total isolation in a gaunt Georgian house on top of a hill above the remote Donegal village of Ballybeg; a family without passion, without loyalty, without commitments; administering the law for anyone who happened to be in power; above all wars and famines and civil strife and political upheaval; ignored by its Protestant counterparts, isolated from the mere Irish, existing only in its own concept of itself, brushing against reality occasionally by its cultivation of artists; but tough – oh, yes, tough, resilient, tenacious; and with one enormous talent for – no, a
greed
for survival – that’s the family motto, isn’t it?
– Semper
permanemus.
Don’t for a second underestimate them. What do you think?

TOM:
It’s your fiction.

EAMON:
A bit turgid – yes – I can see that. (
Suddenly
happy
again.
)
But the romantic possibilities are there – oh, yes, by God. Mother for example. Make Mother central.

ALICE:
Leave Mother out of it.

EAMON:
Why?

ALICE:
You really are a bastard!

EAMON:
Because I see Mother as central?

ALICE:
For Christ’s sake!

EAMON:
Trust me – I’m an ex-diplomat.

ALICE:
Trust you!

EAMON:
Yes, I have pieties, too. (
To
TOM
) She was an actress.
Did you know that? No, you didn’t – that little detail was absorbed into the great silence. Yes; travelling round the country with the Charles Doran Company. Spotted by the judge in the lounge of the Railway Hotel and within five days decently wed and ensconced in the Hall here and bugger poor aul’ Charles Doran who had to face the rest of rural Ireland without a Colleen Bawn! And a raving beauty by all accounts. No sooner did Yeats clap eyes on her than a sonnet burst from him – ‘That I may know the beauty of that form’ – Alice’ll rattle it off for you there. Oh, terrific stuff. And O’Casey – haven’t they told you that one? – poor O’Casey out here one day ploughterin’ after tennis balls and spoutin’ about the workin’-man when she appeared in the doorway in there and the poor creatur’ made such a ramstam to get to her that he tripped over the Pope or Plato or Shirley Temple or somebody and smashed his bloody glasses! The more you think of it – all those calamities – Chesterton’s ribs, Hopkins’s hand, O’Casey’s aul’ specs – the County Council should put up a sign outside that room – Accident Black Spot – shouldn’t they? Between ourselves, it’s a very dangerous house, Professor.

TOM:
What have you got against me, Eamon?

EAMON:
And of course you’ll have chapters on each of the O’Donnell forebears: Great Grandfather – Lord Chief Justice; Grandfather – Circuit Court Judge; Father – simple District Justice; Casimir – failed solicitor. A fairly rapid descent; but no matter, no matter; good for the book; failure’s more lovable than success. D’you know, Professor, I’ve often wondered: if we had had children and they wanted to be part of the family legal tradition, the only option open to them would have been as criminals, wouldn’t it? (
Offering
the
bottle
)
There’s enough here for both of us. No? (
He
pours
a
drink
for
himself
.)
After we went upstairs last night, Alice and I, we had words, as they say. She threw a book at me. And I struck her. You’ve noticed her cheek, haven’t you? No one else here would dream of commenting on it; but you did, didn’t you? And she didn’t tell you, did she? Of course she didn’t. That’s why she’s
freezing me. But she’ll come round. It’ll be absorbed. Duty’ll conquer.

TOM:
I don’t want to hear about your –

EAMON:
What have I got against you?

TOM:
Yes. You’re the only member of the family who has been … less than courteous to me since I came here. I don’t know why that is. I guess you resent me for some reason.

(
EAMON
considers
this.
He
is
not
smiling
new.
)

EAMON:
Nervous; that’s all. In case – you’ll forgive me – in case you’re not equal to your task. In case you’ll loot and run. Nervous that all you’ll see is – (
Indicates
the
croquet
game
)
–
the make-believe.

(
JUDITH
enters
the
study.
As
she
does,
the
phone
rings.
She
answers
it.
)

EAMON:
No, I don’t resent you, Professor. I’m sure you’re an honest recorder. I’m nervous of us; we don’t pose to our best advantage.

JUDITH:
Casimir!

CASIMIR:
Hello?

CLAIRE:
I have you on the run now.

CASIMIR:
You certainly have not.

JUDITH:
Phone, Casimir!

(
His
usual
response
to
this.
)

CASIMIR:
The phone! – Helga – that’ll be Helga – sorry – sorry – excuse me – sorry –

(
As
he
rushes
into
the
study
he
trips
on
the
step.
)

CASIMIR:
I beg your pardon – forgive me –

(
He
rushes
on
in.
)

CLAIRE:
You play for him until he comes back, Willie.

WILLIE:
Me?

CLAIRE:
There’s nothing to it.

WILLIE:
Aw, g’way out of that.

CLAIRE:
Come on. You start over there.

WILLIE:
Sure I mean to say –

CLAIRE:
You aim for that post first and then you drive the ball through the hoop over in that far corner.

CASIMIR:
Hello? Hello? Hello?

(
WILLIE
looks
round
at
the
others.
He
is
embarrassed
and
afraid
of
being
laughed
at
– particularly
by
EAMON
–
so
he
laughs
foolishly.
)

WILLIE:
Me playing croquet – and nothing to play with! Jaysus! Sure I never even seen the game in my –

CLAIRE:
You’ve been watching us, haven’t you? (
Thrusts
a
mallet
into
his
hand.
)
Go on! All you do is hit the ball. It’s very simple.

WILLIE:
All the same you feel a bit of an eejit – (
To
EAMON
) They have me playing croquet now, Eamon! Without balls nor nothin’! Jaysus!

EAMON:
Go ahead, William. Take the plunge. Submit to baptism. You’ll never look back.

WILLIE:
I couldn’t –

CLAIRE:
If you’re going to play, will you play!

CASIMIR:
Halloh? Halloh? Helga? Wer spricht dort, bitte?

(
WILLIE
hesitates.
Then
suddenly
flings
off
his
jacket,
spits
on
his
hands
and
rubs
them
together.
)

WILLIE:
Right – right – I’ll play – indeed and I’ll play – where’s the ball? – Give us a mallet – out of my road – where do I begin? Let me at it.

(
As
before
keep
up
the
dialogue
during
the
CLAIRE
–
WILLIE
game.
JUDITH
,
who
has
been
tidying
in
the
study,
now
comes
out.
)

EAMON:
How is he?

JUDITH:
All right. I think. It might be just the heat. (
He
gives
her
his
glass.
)
What about you?

(
He
looks
around
– finds
another.
)

EAMON:
Here we are.

CLAIRE:
Very good, Willie. You’re getting the hang of it.

WILLIE:
Am I? By Jaysus maybe I am too.

(
EAMON
sits
beside
JUDITH
.
She
is
aware
he
is
looking
at
her.
)

JUDITH:
It’s almost warm. (
Pause.
)
I get sleepy if I take more than one glass. (
Pause.
)
This must be my third today.

(
ALICE
moves
in
her
seat.
)

ALICE:
Oh, that’s very nice.

JUDITH:
She’s got older looking.

EAMON:
Yes.

JUDITH:
Has it become a real problem?

EAMON:
When is a problem a real problem?

JUDITH:
I suppose when you can’t control it.

EAMON:
She was fine until November, dry for almost eighteen months. Since then she’s been in hospital twice. And I knew this trip would be a disaster.

JUDITH:
I tried to talk to her last night –

EAMON:
About her drinking?

JUDITH:
No, no; about London. I was suggesting she get a job. She said none of us was trained to do anything. And she’s right – we’re not. Anyhow she cut me off. But she was always closer to Claire; and Casimir, of course.

EAMON:
We live in a damp basement flat about half the size of the morning-room. I’m out all day and a lot of nights. It’s a very lonely life for her. You’ll miss Claire.