The Plough and the Stars (5 page)

The Covey
  
(
to Barman
) Two glasses o’ malt.

Peter
  
There he is, now; I knew he wouldn’t be long till he folleyed me in.

Bessie
  
(
speaking to the Covey, but really at the other party
) I can’t for th’ life o’ me undherstand how they can call themselves Catholics, when they won’t lift a finger to help poor little Catholic Belgium.

Mrs Gogan
  
(
raising her voice
) What about poor little Catholic Ireland?

Bessie
  
(
over to Mrs Gogan
) You mind your own business, ma’am, an’ stupefy your foolishness be gettin’ dhrunk.

Peter
  
(
anxiously
) Take no notice of her; pay no attention to her. She’s just tormentin’ herself towards havin’ a row with somebody.

Bessie
  
There’s a storm of anger tossin’ in me heart, thinkin’ of all th’ poor Tommies, an’ with them me own son, dhrenched in water an’ soaked in blood, gropin’ their way to a shattherin’ death, in a shower o’ shells! Young men with th’ sunny lust o’ life beamin’ in them, layin’ down their white bodies, shredded into torn an’ bloody pieces, on th’ althar that God Himself has built for th’ sacrifice of heroes!

Mrs Gogan
  
Isn’t it a nice thing to have to be listenin’ to a lassie an’ hangin’ our heads in a dead silence, knowin’ that some persons think more of a ball of malt than they do of th’ blessed saints.

Fluther
  
Whisht; she’s always dangerous an’ derogatory when she’s well oiled. Th’ safest way to hindher her from havin’ any enjoyment out of her spite, is to dip our thoughts into the fact of her bein’ a female person that has moved out of th’ sight of ordinary sensible people.

Bessie
  
To look at some o’ th’ women that’s knockin’ about, now, is a thing to make a body sigh … A woman on her own, dhrinkin’ with a bevy o’ men, is hardly an example to her sex … A woman dhrinkin’ with a woman is one thing, an’ a woman dhrinkin’ with herself is still a woman – flappers may be put in another category altogether – but a middle-aged married woman makin’ herself th’ centre of a circle of men is as a woman that is loud an’ stubborn, whose feet abideth not in her own house.

The Covey
  
(
to Bessie
) When I think of all th’ problems in front o’ th’ workers, it makes me sick to be lookin’ at oul’ codgers goin’ about dhressed up like green-accoutred figures gone asthray out of a toyshop!

Peter
  
Gracious God, give me patience to be listenin’ to that blasted young Covey proddin’ at me from over at th’ other end of th’ shop!

Mrs Gogan
  
(
dipping her finger in the whiskey, and moistening with it the lips of her baby
) Cissie Gogan’s a woman livin’ for nigh on twenty-five years in her own room, an’ beyond biddin’ th’ time o’ day to her neighbours, never yet as much as nodded her head in th’ direction of other people’s business, while she knows some as are never content unless they’re standin’ senthry over other people’s doin’s!

Voice of Speaker
  
The last sixteen months have been the most glorious in the history of Europe. Heroism has come back to the earth. War is a terrible thing, but war is not an evil thing. People in Ireland dread war because they do not know it. Ireland has not known the exhilaration of war for over a hundred years. When war comes to Ireland she must welcome it as she would welcome the Angel of God! (
The figure passes out of sight and hearing
.)

The Covey
  
(
towards all present
) Dope, dope. There’s only one war worth havin’: th’ war for th’ economic emancipation of th’ proletariat.

Bessie
  
They may crow away out o’ them; but it ud be fitther for some o’ them to mend their ways, an’ cease from havin’ scouts out watchin’ for th’ comin’ of th’ Saint Vincent de Paul man, for fear they’d be nailed lowerin’ a pint of beer, mockin’ th’ man with an angel face, shinin’ with th’ glamour of deceit an’ lies!

Mrs Gogan
  
An’ a certain lassie standin’ stiff behind her own door with her ears cocked listenin’ to what’s being said, stuffed till she’s sthrained with envy of a neighbour thryin’ for a few little things that may be got be hard sthrivin’ to keep up to th’ letther an’ th’ law, an’ th’ practices of th’ Church!

Peter
  
(
to Mrs Gogan
) If I was you, Mrs Gogan, I’d parry her jabbin’ remarks be a powerful silence that’ll keep her tantalizin’ words from penethratin’ into your feelin’s. It’s always betther to leave these people to th’ vengeance o’ God!

Bessie
  
Bessie Burgess doesn’t put up to know much, never havin’ a swaggerin’ mind, thanks be to God, but goin’ on packin’ up knowledge accordin’ to her conscience: precept upon precept, line upon line; here a little, an’ there a little. But (
with a passionate swing of her shawl
), thanks be to Christ, she knows when she was got, where she was got, an’ how she was got; while there’s some she knows, decoratin’ their finger with a well-polished weddin’ ring, would be hard put to it if they were assed to show their weddin’ lines!

Mrs Gogan
  
(
plunging out into the centre of the floor in a wild tempest of hysterical rage
) Y’ oul’ rip of a blasted liar, me weddin’ ring’s been well earned be twenty years be th’ side o’ me husband, now takin’ his rest in heaven, married to me be Father Dempsey, in th’ Chapel o’ Saint Jude’s, in th’ Christmas Week of eighteen hundhred an’ ninety-five; an’ any kid, livin’ or dead, that Jinnie Gogan’s had since, was got between th’ bordhers of th’ Ten Commandments! … An’ that’s more than some o’ you can say that are kep’ from th’ dhread o’ desthruction be a few drowsy virtues, that th’ first whisper of temptation lulls into a sleep, that’ll know one sin from another only on th’ day of their last anointin’, an’ that use th’ innocent light o’ th’ shinin’ stars to dip into th’ sins of a night’s diversion!

Bessie
  
(
jumping out to face Mrs Gogan, and bringing the palms of her hands together in sharp claps to emphasize her remarks
) Liar to you, too, ma’am, y’ oul’ hardened thresspasser on other people’s good nature,
wizenin’ up your soul in th’ arts o’ dodgeries, till every dhrop of respectability in a female is dhried up in her, lookin’ at your ready-made manoeuverin’ with th’ menkind!

Barman
  
Here, there; here, there; speak asy there. No rowin’ here, no rowin’ here, now.

Fluther
  
(
trying to calm Mrs Gogan
) Now Jinnie, Jinnie, it’s a derogatory thing to be smirchin’ a night like this with a row; it’s rompin’ with th’ feelin’s of hope we ought to be, instead o’ bein’ vice versa!

Peter
  
(
trying to quiet Bessie
) I’m terrible dawny, Mrs Burgess, an’ a fight leaves me weak for a long time aftherwards … Please, Mrs Burgess, before there’s damage done, thry to have a little respect for yourself.

Bessie
  
(
with a push of her hand that sends Peter tottering to the end of the shop
) G’way, you little sermonizing, little yella-faced, little consequential, little pudgy, little bum, you!

Mrs Gogan
  
(
screaming
) Fluther, leggo! I’m not goin’ to keep an unresistin’ silence, an’ her scattherin’ her festherin’ words in me face, stirrin’ up every dhrop of decency in a respectable female, with her restless rally o’ lies that would make a saint say his prayer backwards!

Bessie
  
(
shouting
) Ah, everybody knows well that th’ best charity that can be shown to you is to hide th’ thruth as much as our thrue worship of God Almighty will allow us!

Mrs Gogan
  
(
frantically
) Here, houl’ th’ kid, one o’ yous; houl’ th’ kid for a minute! There’s nothin’ for it but to show this lassie a lesson or two … (
To Peter
) Here, houl’ th’ kid, you. (
Before Peter is aware of it, she places the infant in his arms. To Bessie, standing before her in a fighting attitude
) Come on, now, me loyal lassie, dyin’
with grief for little Catholic Belgium! When Jinnie Gogan’s done with you, you’ll have a little leisure lyin’ down to think an’ pray for your king an’ counthry!

Barman
  
(
coming from behind the counter, getting between the women, and proceeding to push them towards the door
) Here, now, since yous can’t have a little friendly argument quietly, you’ll get out o’ this place in quick time. Go on, an’ settle your differences somewhere else – I don’t want to have another endorsement on me licence.

Peter
  
(
anxiously, over to Mrs Gogan
) Here, take your kid back, ower this. How nicely I was picked, now, for it to be plumped into me arms!

The Covey
  
She knew who she was givin’ it to, maybe.

Peter
  
(
hotly to the Covey
) Now, I’m givin’ you fair warnin’, me young Covey, to quit firin’ your jibes an’ jeers at me … For one o’ these days, I’ll run out in front o’ God Almighty an’ take your sacred life!

Barman
  
(
pushing Bessie out after Mrs Gogan
) Go on, now; out you go.

Bessie
  
(
as she goes out
) If you think, me lassie, that Bessie Burgess has an untidy conscience, she’ll soon show you to th’ differ!

Peter
  
(
leaving the baby down on the floor
) Ay, be Jasus, wait there, till I give her back her youngster! (
He runs to the door.
) Ay, there, ay! (
He comes back.
) There, she’s afther goin’ without her kid. What are we goin’ to do with it, now?

The Covey
  
What are we goin’ to do with it? Bring it outside an’ show everybody what you’re afther findin’!

Peter
  
(
in a panic to Fluther
) Pick it up, you, Fluther, an’ run afther her with it, will you?

Fluther
  
What d’ye take Fluther for? You must think Fluther’s a right gom. D’ye think Fluther’s like yourself, destitute of a titther of undherstandin’?

Barman
  
(
imperatively to Peter
) Take it up, man, an’ run out afther her with it, before she’s gone too far. You’re not goin’ to leave th’ bloody thing here, are you?

Peter
  
(
plaintively, as he lifts up the baby
) Well, God Almighty, give me patience with all th’ scorners, tormentors, an’ twarters that are always an’ ever thryin’ to goad me into prayin’ for their blindin’ an’ blastin’ an’ burnin’ in th’ world to come! (
He goes out
.)

Fluther
  
God, it’s a relief to get rid o’ that crowd. Women is terrible when they start to fight. There’s no holdin’ them back. (
To the Covey
) Are you goin’ to have anything?

The Covey
  
Ah, I don’t mind if I have another half.

Fluther
  
(
to Barman
) Two more, Tommy, me son.

You know, there’s no conthrollin’ a woman when she loses her head.

Rosie
  
(
to Barman
) Divil a use o’ havin’ a thrim little leg on a night like this; things was never worse … Give us a half till tomorrow, Tom, duckey.

Barman
  
(
coldly
) No more tonight, Rosie; you owe me for three already.

Rosie
  
(
combatively
) You’ll be paid, won’t you?

Barman
  
I hope so.

Rosie
  
You hope so! Is that th’ way with you, now?

Fluther
  
(
to Barman
) Give her one; it’ll be all right.

Rosie
  
(
clapping Fluther on the back
) Oul’ sport!

Fluther
  
Th’ meetin’ should be soon over, now.

The Covey
  
Th’ sooner th’ betther. It’s all a lot o’ blasted nonsense, comrade.

Fluther
  
Oh, I wouldn’t say it was all nonsense. Afther all, Fluther can remember th’ time, an’ him only a dawny chiselur, bein’ taught at his mother’s knee to be faithful to th’ Shan Van Vok!

The Covey
  
That’s all dope, comrade; th’ sort o’ thing that workers are fed on be th’ Boorzwawzee.

Fluther
  
(
a little sharply
) What’s all dope? Though I’m sayin’ it that shouldn’t: (
catching his cheek with his hand, and pulling down the flesh from the eye
) d’ye see that mark there, undher me eye? … A sabre slice from a dragoon in O’Connell Street! (
Thrusting his head forward towards Rosie
) Feel that dint in th’ middle o’ me nut!

Rosie
  
(
rubbing Fluther’s head, and winking at the Covey
) My God, there’s a holla!

Fluther
  
(
putting on his hat with quiet pride
) A skelp from a bobby’s baton at a Labour meetin’ in th’ Phoenix Park!