by Tom Murphy
She’s won the second game. Vera laughs, and there are complimentary sounds from the others; though Peter is disapproving of Arina’s risque remarks; he’s annoyed.
Ulita comes in with a tray of savouries – small strawberry jam tarts – which she hands round. Peter moves away from the table to take a jam tart to Anna and/or to replenish her glass. An intermission in the card-playing.
Arina Jam tarts!
Peter And if we want a little savoury we can have it, so we can! Can’t we, Miss Madam?
Anna (giggling) Yes, uncle.
Peter ‘Yes uncle’!
Arina Strawbery jam (She’s relishing her tart.) And when I was carrying – which one of them was it? – I couldn’t abide strawberries or anything to do with the blessed things. The minute a strawberry came into the house, I could smell it was there, ‘Take the damn thing away, fling it out!’ Blackcurrants? I couldn’t get enough of them. Now, whose deal is it?
Priest (caught with his mouth full) My – my – my-
Arina Yours! (Calling to Peter to return to the table.) Attend! (Approvingly, aside to Vera.) I saw you forking down your whack of spuds and pint of milk , earlier. (To no one.) I’ll take care of things.
Priest is dealing the cards. Peter is returning to the table.
Peter A man must always behave so that his life can be seen from all sides like a candle in a lantern. (To Priest.) Men must be on their guard against sins of the flesh
Arina And it’s hard on them.
Peter Hard or soft!
Arina (finds this very funny) Hard or soft!
Peter (is annoyed and would deny the ribald innuendo) Hard or soft! But such a man will be at peace with his conscience, no mud will stick to that man.
Arina And hard or soft on intelligent men, women pay the bill.
Vera Still, I wouldn’t like to be caught out in that (weather).
Peter (sudden anger, taking his annoyance out on Vera) Well, maybe that’s where you belong, Miss! Maybe that’s where you should be, Miss!
Arina Everything is going to be fine, my good son.
Peter (continues angrily to Vera) Or up on the side of the mountain! Would you like that, Miss? Instead of being down here in my house, safe and snug and fed . . . (But in the next, he’s back to his considerate, kind self.) Where we’d all be maybe, if it weren’t for the King of Heaven: out there, creatures, like the poor, cold, broken clogs on our feet, wet through and hungry.
Vera Clogs indeed on gentle folk!
Peter Do you know why we are gentle folk?
Vera King of Heaven.
Peter If it hadn’t been for Him, I’d be a poor man.
Arina Well, I had a hand in it too?
Peter (ignores her remark) If it hadn’t been for Him, I’d be living in a hut without a chimney now.
Vera (laughing) Oh no, no, no, no, no!
Peter I’d be mending one of your broken clogs, my eyes streaming from the smoke in the hut! Ow! Ow! (He has hit his thumb with his imaginary hammer, mending an imaginary clog. He’s quite a comedian.)
Vera (laughing) Oh no, no, no, you wouldn’t!
Arina No doubt God is good to us, but –
Peter It’s all His doing – Everything!
Vera He gives us firewood!
Peter We fancy we do things of ourselves, but do we?
Vera We don’t!
Peter Do we?
Priest We don’t.
Peter We don’t!
Anna (laughing, calls) We don’t!
Vera But my uncle was very pious. He was always praying. But one night he was caught out in a storm and he froze to death just the same.
Peter What?
Vera You’d think God would’ve done something.
Peter That’s just it! You can pray all you like, but if God wills it a man will freeze to death, and if He doesn’t that man will stay alive. Isn’t that true?
Vera That’s true!
Peter Isn’t that true, Father?
Priest That’s true, sir!
Peter But isn’t that true?
Anna That’s true, uncle! (She’s laughing too much.)
Peter (You can) Pray all you like, but God is wiser. You ask God for butter and he gives you onions.
Vera (who is quite excited) You ask Him for – for –
Peter That’s just it!
Vera For honey!
Peter And He simply won’t have it!
Vera Or He’ll – He’ll give you a sting!
Laughter is dying down. Arina has been quiet for some time.
Peter Mama is tired.
Arina No. (She’s not tired.)
A final sorting of her cards and, as against the earlier trumping of her successes and calling ‘Fools’, this time she simply holds up the winning hand of cards and places it on the table.
Vera She’s too clever for us.
Arina My good son, I know what you’ve been expecting of me, but have you though what this means for us? New life here.
Peter What?
Arina Continuity, a baby.
Peter Excuse me, Mama, while I finish about prayer.
Arina And though everything isn’t all as it should be, it’s the real thing just the same.
Peter Mama, allow me, excuse me – Arina It’s holy, you know.
Peter Acceptable prayers reach their destination, the not acceptable ones are as good as nothing.
Arina And it all won’t have been for nothing!
Peter Mama! –
Anna (calling) Uncle Peter, Uncle Peter! –
Peter Anna! –
Arina We won’t just die out!
Anna Uncle Peter! –
Peter Mama! – Anna! –
Anna Can I be godmother?!
Arina Marvellous!
Peter We’ll put away the cards.
He takes the pack of cards and leaves the table. The others rise. Anna (laughing) slips away. Priest will join Peter. Vera assists
Arina out of her chair – or vice versa. Ulita will clear up when they have all gone.
Arina My good son. (Talking to herself.) He’s worried, and frightened. That’s how men are at a time like this. But it’s going to be all right. He’ll see. Yes, because love intrigues? No end of them here. And who did they begin with? They began with myself and the young windmill – (Calls to Peter.) Your father! (Talking to herself again:) And that Miss Madam (Vera) came down from the very same village up there as me. (She’s moving to leave, stops, calls:) And tomorrow, we’ll sit down – you, me and Anna and settle the business of the farm for you! (Going out, followed by Vera:) Come, my mountain beauty, now you’re in for it! You enjoyed the sowing, now try the harvesting.
Peter (to Priest) I cannot fault her as a house-keeper. She’s a good worker. But in that other department? Intelligence? That’s how it happens that they fall into sin. But I shouldn’t like to institutionalise her. I’ll keep her on. (Sighs.) It. doesn’t look good, though, to see a strange child in a house. The example? When the time comes, you’ll do the baptism – everything’s to be done properly – and make the other arrangements. Dear friend Mama’s grown old: We all grow old, Father? But Ulita will be here to assist in whatever (He has left with the Priest.)
Scene Three
Arina waits expectantly. She starts to laugh to herself. She is remembering Victor, who now appears, declaiming an ode of his own composition. Without necessarily looking at him, she is listening to and enjoying his words. The words reflect something of her present, good and expectant, mood.
Victor ‘Ode to a Newborn Son’.
O potent organ,
Respectful to orders in the dead of night –
Germinal, generous cock –
Stiff awaking, and on defiant rocks of fire,
You arise and go
To Venus’ thickly wooded Mount
Above the generative cavern,
The font of love below.
The mouth soft yields and inside poked,
Attentive in courtesy
and to acknowledge
The antechamber’s fond wet welcoming
Reception and embrace,
Clito’s swelling node of pleasure’s stroked.
But courtliness observed, the welcome paid,
Not to further linger in the hall –
Inmost, the serious work is to be done –
Plunging on the guarded sanctum to attain
And charge what lies within that holy pantheon.
And suddenly the cock can drive no more –
It’s there! Rammed to the balls
The noble fucker stops, at the inner door.
And waits. For what?
The shuddering. The proud head then explodes
And as from (a) cunning Trojan Horse
A million soldiers storm the walls.
Determinedly, in attack, they rush, scramble,
Concentrated in intent, swim,
Up and on, to meet the moon-ship coming down.
One soldier only gains the craft –
But one will do! –
And sails it into womb’s safe keep.
That warrior, my son, is you!
In the background, a newborn baby cries. Victor disappears. Vera, in nightdress, emerges from the darkness holding a baby. Arina goes to Vera and they meet in a soft embrace, sharing the baby between them.
Scene Four
The small hours. Anna is sitting alone. There is a glass in her hand, held out, which she appears to have forgotten. She appears, too, to be unaware that she is crying, weeping silently, with, at the same time, a gentle smile on her lips in a memory of some deep private grief. When, later, she moves about, it is as if her movements are not connected to her brain. As the phrase has it, she appears to be ‘out of it’.
Peter, dressing gown hanging open, comes in cautiously – like someone who has been watching her for some time.
Peter I thought everyone was long asleep.
Anna (could be talking to herself) I think I’d like to stay here.
Peter . . . You’re crying.
Anna (as before) I think I’d like to stay here.
Peter Would you? . . . Would you?
She nods in a vague way.
Do you like being an actress? . . . What is it like being an actress?
Anna (sings quietly to herself )
I want to come under the colonel,
The colonel, the colonel . . .
Peter Is it true that men can touch actresses whenever they like?
Anna (still weeping and her smile, as in a memory)
I want to come under the colonel,
I’ll only come under him . . .
She claps her hands over her head, silently, as if introducing someone on stage, and:
Lena!
And, as if she is Lena, she starts to perform the vaudeville number ‘An Old-fashioned Colonel’, moving about, circling. For all her consciousness of Peter, he might not even be there. The song becomes fragmented; the movement is continuous and suggestive, though strangely innocent.
Anna
When I first saw the regiment’s colonel
All silvery-headed and slim,
My feelings were – Oh! – so maternal:
I want to look after the colonel,
I want to cater for him!
A ramrod-stiff old-fashioned colonel
. . . I’ll only be dressed down by him!
. . . I want to serve under him!
His seat is firm in the saddle
. . . For his age he is lissom of limb
. . . And his eye is more than paternal . . .
. . . And I know that he’ll never skedaddle!
Peter reaches out a hand, tentatively; and again, this time his fingers touching her. She does not appear to notice. He touches her again. She continues her performance.
Anna
. . . I’ll only take stick from the colonel,
I’ll only go riding with him!
. . . I want to be drilled by the colonel,
I’ll only be dressed down by him!
. . . I want to come under the colonel,
I want to go down with him!
Here, perhaps, Arina comes in in her dressing gown; perhaps smiling; something woke her up. Now she sees Peter touching Anna. Peter sees Arina: he smiles/says the word ‘Mama’ at her, but no authority of hers is going to deter him in his pursuit of Anna, whose dance takes them off in the following.
Anna
I want to come under the colonel,
The colonel, the colonel,
I want to come under the colonel,
I’ll only come under him . . .
Arina, aghast, impotent, stands there. Her ghosts – Victor, Steven, Paul – emerge from the darkness around her.
Scene Five
Night. Silence. Arina somewhere in the darkness of the house, watching, listening for a sound, secretly. The silence is ominous.
Ulita comes in through the patches of night light and shade; stealthily, though rather swiftly, a glance behind her as she comes. She waits. She has a bundle, half concealed, under her topcoat, which she rocks gently.
Peter enters, emerges from the deep shadows to say something to her, give her something (money), to raise his hand, ambivalently, over the bundle that she holds – blessing, farewell, to scratch his chin? And Ulita steals away.
After a moment, Peter draws back, retreats to the deep shadows, because someone is coming.
And Vera comes in, slowly at first, in her nightdress, the question on her face becoming worry, becoming fear, terror dawning on her, panic as she moves here, there, searching for her baby; and, off, frantic, to search further.
Peter emerging again, cautiously, only to draw back again into the deep shadows: Vera is returning, wide-eyed, distraught, to scream, silently and move off.
Now Arina, the silent witness, emerges from her place of hiding, blighted, hopeless; and to muster what strength she has, to call into the deep shadows:
Arina I curse you!
End of Act Three.
Act Four
Scene One
Ulita spreads a cloth on the table. That done she starts setting crockery. Upstage, ignored, forgotten, Arina sits alone, dull eyes on the scene, immobile.
Vera comes in with something for the table. She is being deliberately slovenly. In private moments, Ulita’s face says ‘Vera has a cheek’.
Vera’s remarks appear to be directed at nothing but the air in front of her mouth. But there is despair, rage, latent violence in her.
Vera I wish I could have a look at how some people live, I wish I could have a good look. (She deposits whatever she has brought in on the table.) I wish I could have a look at Mickelson’s place across the river, I wish I could have a look at that place. Mickelson’s housekeeper has a fine time of it. She . . . (She has gone out again.)
Peter comes in, with Ivan following. Peter has a document which he will leave on the table. Ivan has his ledger and some receipts, which he would like Peter to inspect. Peter is hardly interested.
Ivan Receipts. They aren’t very –
Peter (to Ulita) Miss Anna isn’t down?
Ivan Peter, they aren’t very good, they’re bad. And –
Peter (to Ulita) When you’re done there, call Miss Anna. Tell her the paper is ready that she’s to take with her. (He glances at a receipt.)
Ivan And the tenants – those of them that remain, that is –
Peter Well, let me do a calculation for you. (He starts writing figures on the back of a receipt.)
Vera (coming in) The Mickelsons across the river know how to treat people. Their housekeeper – (To Ulita, dangerously, who is going out.) You! Don’t use a look like that on your face looking at me! Mickelson’s housekeeper doesn’t have to go to the cattle sheds or the cellars. (She dumps a handful of cutlery on the table.) Their housekeeper wears silk. No one forces her to do anything.
Peter Now that will do!
Vera (as before, to no one; going out again) Now tha
t will what? Now that will what?
Ivan . . . Your tenants are withholding the rent. They’re saying it’s your responsibility to see that the houses are maintained, the land fertilised. It’s only the beginning of something bigger from them.
Peter (pompously) What revenue, Ivan, do you think, would the estate achieve from milk if there were, say, no other cows in the area but mine – (they were) poisoned by that weed, (or) confined outbreaks of a bovine disease, which my herd escapes – and my herd produces twice as much milk as before, and the price of milk goes up by twelve and a half per cent?
In answer to the blank look on Ivan’s face, Peter gives him the paper on which are his calculations and answer.
Ivan What do you want me to do about the tenant situation?
Peter I’ll think about it.
Ivan But –
Peter (crankily) Talk to your old friend my mother about it!
Vera (coming in) Mickelson’s housekeeper wears one dress today, another tomorrow, special ones for holidays.
Peter Bless her!
Vera What her?!
Peter Are you in rags? (He goes out.)
Vera (calling after him, violence in the sounds) Silk! Silk! If the master wishes to see her, she receives him! She and the master drive to church together on Sundays with the child she bore him in the back seat! The priest rings the bell when he sees them coming!
Peter (returning) What kind of woman of your class wears silk?
Vera Tell me, then I’ll know! But of course some women are fools, they do it for a cotton dress – for nothing at all! Or, ‘Eat as many apples as you like!’
Peter This is shocking!
Vera It’s what – this is what? You got burnt knees on the floor saying prayers with me, is it?
Peter You have an evil tongue! This has been going on for weeks. Stop your tricks! Get along with you, shame on you, shame on you, how dare you!
Vera is suddenly in tears. Ulita returns with Anna. Anna hangs back, reluctant about entering the scene as yet. She is, though, collected; she’s in control of herself.
Vera (in tears) Oh Lord God, Our Saviour, what am I to do?
Peter Shame on you, shame on you! The child is in good hands and will grow up a good servant of God.
