Brian Friel Plays 2

by Brian Friel

  Harry Go ahead, Peter.

  Lombard Thank you. Three months –

  O’Donnell All the same that jacket takes years off him.

  Lombard If I may, Hugh (O’Donnell) –

  O’Donnell You would never think he was forty-one, would you? Almost forty-two. (offering Lombard the floor) Peter.

  Lombard Three months ago you (O’Neill) wrote again to Philip asking for Spanish arms and money. You have a copy – dated May 14 last.

  O’Donnell I have no copy.

  Harry points to a paper in front of O’Donnell.

  Ah. Sorry.

  Lombard The final sentence reads: ‘With such aid we hope to restore the faith of the Church and to secure you a kingdom.’

  O’Donnell I never agreed with that stuff about offering him a kingdom.

  Lombard I have brought his reply back – the document dated August 3. ‘I have been informed you are defending the Catholic cause against the English. That this is acceptable to God is proved by the signal victories you have gained –’

  O’Donnell Not against the shit O’Doherty.

  Lombard ‘I hope you will continue to prosper and you need not doubt but I will render you any assistance you may require.’ Now after all these years I think I have a very good idea how the Spanish court thinks. They have a natural sympathy and understanding of us because we share the one true faith. And they genuinely abhor England’s attempt to impose the new heretical religion on us. But don’t assume that that sympathy is unqualified – because it is not. Their interest in us is practical and political. I have had a series of meetings with the Duke of Lerma –

  O’Donnell Whoever he is.

  Lombard He determines their foreign policy. And every time he says the same thing to me. Spain will help you only if you are useful to us. And when I look at you what do I see? A small island located strategically to the west of our enemy, England. A tiny portion of that island, the area around Dublin, under English rule. A few New English families living in isolation round the country. But by far the greater portion of your island is a Gaelic domain, ruled by Gaelic chieftains. And how do they behave? Constantly at war – occasionally with the English – but always, always among themselves. And how can fragmented and warring tribes be any use to us?

  O’Donnell Constantly at war? Jesus, I haven’t an enemy in the world!

  Lombard But what Lerma is really saying is that if we can forge ourselves into a cohesive unit, then, then we can go back to him and say: we are not fragmented; we are not warring; we are a united people; now help us. Now to return to my Commentarius – it’s the document with the blue cover. The full title is De Regno Hiberniae Sanctorum Insula Commentarius –

  O’Donnell I have no –

  Harry points to the document in front of him.

  Ah, sorry.

  Lombard My thesis is this. If we are to understand the Irish situation fully we must go back more than four hundred years – to that famous October 17 when Henry II of England landed here. He had in his hand a copy of Pope Adrian the Fourth’s Bull, Laudabiliter, making him Dominus Hiberniae –

  O’Donnell Whatever that means.

  Lombard King of Ireland. And that Bull had two consequences –

  O’Neill I got married last night.

  There is a long, shocked silence.

  O’Donnell What?

  O’Neill I got married last night.

  O’Donnell You’re a liar! (to Harry) He’s a liar! (to O’Neill) You bugger, you never did!

  O’Neill Yes.

  O’Donnell God Almighty! (to Harry) You said he was in Dublin at a meeting of the Council.

  Harry He was in Dublin.

  O’Donnell Jesus God Almighty! The bloody jacket – didn’t I tell you the tail was high!

  Lombard You kept that very quiet, Hugh.

  O’Donnell Who to, you bugger, you? I have it! – the big redhead you had here all last month – that Scotch woman – Annie McDonald!

  O’Neill No.

  Lombard Congratulations.

  O’Neill Thank you.

  O’Donnell I’ve got it! – Brian McSwiney’s daughter – the Fanad Whippet – what’s her real name? – Cecelia! Jesus, not Cecelia!

  O’Neill shakes his head.

  Who then? Come on, man! Tell us!

  Lombard Did you say last night?

  O’Neill In fact at two o’clock this morning. We eloped …

  O’Donnell ‘We el–’! Sweet Jesus God Almighty! We eloped! (He drums the table in his excitement.) Lay me down and bury me decent! The hoor eloped! Yipeeeeee! (He embraces O’Neill.) Terrific, man! Congratulations!

  Lombard Who’s the new Countess, Hugh?

  O’Donnell Jesus, I hope I have the same appetite for it when I’m your age!

  O’Neill Neither of you knows her. She’s from Newry.

  O’Donnell Magennis! Siobhan Magennis!

  O’Neill No. She’s –

  O’Donnell The other sister then – the one with the teeth – Maeve!

  O’Neill I met her first only a few months ago. On her twentieth birthday.

  O’Donnell She’s only –?!

  O’Neill Her name is Mabel.

  O’Donnell (very grand) Mabel.

  O’Neill She’s one of the New English. Her grandfather came over here from Newcastle-under-Lyme in Staffordshire. He was given the Cistercian monastery and lands around Newry and Carlingford – that’s what brought them over.

  Pause.

  O’Donnell Corne on, Hugh. Quit the aul fooling. Tell us her real –

  O’Neill She is Mabel Bagenal. She is the daughter of the retired Queen’s Marshal. She is the sister of Sir Henry Bagenal, the present Queen’s Marshal.

  Silence.

  Harry Anybody for more wine?

  Silence.

  Lombard Where did you get married?

  O’Neill The Bishop of Meath married us in Drumcondra – on the outskirts of Dublin.

  Lombard Which Bishop of Meath?

  O’Neill Tom Jones, the Protestant Bishop. Mabel is a Protestant.

  O’Donnell Hold on, Hugh – wait now – wait – wait. You can’t marry into the Upstarts! And a sister of the Butcher Bagenal! Jesus, man –

  O’Neill I’m going to ask her to come and meet you.

  O’Donnell Keep her for a month, Hugh – like that McDonald woman – that’s the very job – keep her for a month and then kick her out. Amn’t I right, Harry? (to O’Neill) She won’t mind, Hugh, honest to God. That’s what she’ll expect. Those New English are all half tramps. Give her some clothes and a few shillings and kick her back home to Staffordshire.

  O’Neill Her home is Newry.

  O’Donnell Wherever she’s from, (to Harry) That’s all she’ll expect. I’m telling you.

  O’Neill I’m going to ask her to join us.

  O’Donnell Amn’t I right, Peter?

  Lombard We have all got to assess the religious and political implications of this association, Hugh.

  O’Neill Marriage, Archbishop.

  Lombard Will Spain think so? Will Rome?

  O’Neill (very angry, in Tyrone accent) I think so. And this is my country. (quietly, in his usual accent) I have married a very talented, a very spirited, a very beautiful young woman. She has left her people to join me here. They will never forgive her for that. She is under this roof now, among a people she has been reared to believe are wild and barbarous. I am having a celebration tonight when I will introduce her to my people. I particularly ask you two to welcome her here. But if that is beyond you, I demand at least civility.

  He leaves. Silence. Lombard begins gathering up his papers. Harry helps him. After a very long pause:

  O’Donnell The bugger’s off his aul head! – that’s all there is to it! She’s turned the bugger’s aul head.

  Harry (to Lombard) Stay overnight. We can meet again tomorrow morning.

  O’Donnell And he let me blather on about the English building new forts – and him jouking about the Ne
wry fort all the time! That’s a class of treachery, Harry – that’s what that is!

  Harry You’re talking rubbish, Hugh.

  O’Donnell Do you know where the Butcher Bagenal was last week? In the Finn valley. Raiding and plundering with a new troop of soldiers over from Chester – the way you’d blood young greyhounds! Slaughtered and beheaded fifteen families that were out saving hay along the river bank, men, women and children. With the result that at this moment there are over a hundred refugees in my mother’s place in Donegal Town.

  Harry (to Lombard) I’ll have copies made of these.

  O’Donnell I’ll tell you something, Harry Hoveden: as long as he has that Upstart bitch with him, there’ll be no welcome for him in Tyrconnell!

  Lombard is about to leave with his papers.

  Harry At least wait and meet her, Peter. For his sake.

  O’Neill enters, leading Mabel by the elbow.

  Mabel is twenty, forthright, determined. Now she is very nervous. Her accent has traces of Staffordshire.

  O’Neill Here we are. I want you to meet two of my friends, Mabel. Hugh O’Donnell – Sir Hugh O’Donnell – Earl of Tyrconnell. My wife, Mabel.

  Mabel I’m pleased to meet you.

  She holds out her hand. O’Donnell has to take it. He does not speak. Pause.

  O’Neill And Dr Peter Lombard, Titular Bishop of Armagh and Primate of All Ireland.

  Mabel I’m pleased to meet you.

  Again she holds out her hand. After a pause Lombard takes it. He does not speak. Pause.

  O’Neill We’ve got to keep on the right side of Peter: he’s writing our history.

  Lombard That seems to make you uneasy for some reason.

  O’Neill Not as long as you tell the truth.

  Lombard You keep insisting on this ‘truth’, Hugh.

  O’Neill Don’t you believe in the truth, Archbishop?

  Lombard I don’t believe that a period of history – a given space of time – my life – your life – that it contains within it one ‘true’ interpretation just waiting to be mined. But I do believe that it may contain within it several possible narratives: the life of Hugh O’Neill can be told in many different ways. And those ways are determined by the needs and the demands and the expectations of different people and different eras. What do they want to hear? How do they want it told? So that in a sense I’m not altogether my own man, Hugh. To an extent I simply fulfil the needs, satisfy the expectations – don’t I? (He turns away.)

  Harry You’re looking rested now.

  O’Neill And Harry Hoveden you know.

  Mabel Oh yes. I know Harry.

  Harry Do you like the flowers?

  Mabel Yes, they’re lovely.

  O’Neill Broom.

  Mabel Yes.

  O’Neill Spanish broom.

  Mabel Yes.

  O’Neill Member of the genista family.

  Mabel Ah. I wouldn’t know that.

  O’Neill Actually that’s Spanish broom … comes from Spain. They need plenty of water.

  Mabel Broom? No, they don’t. They need hardly any water at all.

  O’Neill looks accusingly at Harry.

  O’Donnell I’ll have another slug of that wine – if that’s all right with you, Hugh.

  O’Neill Of course. Anybody else?

  Silence.

  Harry Did you have a rest?

  Mabel I lay down but I didn’t sleep any – I was too excited. Everything’s so … And the noise of those cows! I mean, I looked out the window and all I could see was millions of them stretching away to the hills. I mean, I never saw so many cows in one place in all my life. There must be millions of them. Cows and horses.

  Harry We’re moving you into the bedroom just above us. It’s quieter there.

  Lombard If you’ll pardon me. I’ve some letters to write.

  O’Neill The celebration begins at nine, Peter.

  Lombard exits.

  Harry (taking O’Donnell’s elbow) And Hugh hasn’t eaten since this morning.

  O’Donnell What are you talking about? I ate only –

  Harry We’ll join you later.

  He steers O’Donnell out in front of him. The moment they are alone O’Neill grabs Mabel from behind and buries his face in her neck and hair.

  Mabel Oh, my God.

  O’Neill Put your arms around me.

  Mabel I’m trembling all over.

  O’Neill I want you now.

  Mabel ‘Come and meet two friends,’ you said.

  O’Neill Now! – now! – now!

  Mabel You should have warned me, Hugh.

  O’Neill Let’s go upstairs.

  Mabel I’m in pieces, I am! Hugh O’Donnell and a popish priest all in a couple of minutes! Did you not see my hand? – it was shaking!

  O’Neill I want to devour you.

  Mabel Our Henry calls him the Butcher O’Donnell. He says he strangles young lambs with his bare hands.

  O’Neill That’s true.

  Mabel Oh God! Are you serious?

  O’Neill And eats them raw.

  Mabel Oh God! – you’re not serious?

  O’Neill We all do that here.

  Mabel Stop it, Hugh. And he speaks so funny! Why doesn’t he speak like you?

  O’Neill How do I speak?

  Mabel ‘How do I speak?’ – like those Old English nobs in Dublin.

  O’Neill (Tyrone accent) That’s why you’re fair dying about me.

  Mabel And I met a popish priest, Hugh! That’s the first time in my life I ever even saw one of them! And I said, ‘I’m pleased to meet you’! Oh, my God, wait till my sister Mary hears this!

  O’Neill And your brother Henry.

  Mabel Our Henry would shoot me, Hugh!

  O’Neill Would he?

  Mabel You know he would! I shook the hand of a popish priest!

  O’Neill An archbishop.

  Mabel Is that worse?

  O’Neill Much worse. And look at it.

  Mabel At what?

  O’Neill Your hand.

  She looks at her hand.

  It’s turning black.

  Mabel It’s –?! (She suddenly realizes she has been fooled. She gives a great whoop of laughter and punches him.) Oh, my God, I actually looked! You’re a bastard, Hugh O’Neill – that’s what you are – a real bastard! (She laughs again, this time on the point of tears.) Oh, my God, it’s a bit too much, Hugh … I think maybe – I think maybe I’m going to cry – and the stupid thing is that I never ever cry … All that secrecy – running away – the wedding ceremony – all the excitement – being here – meeting those people … (now crying) They weren’t very welcoming, Hugh – were they? I mean they couldn’t even speak to me – could they?

  O’Neill Give them time.

  Mabel Just when I was riding away from home I turned round and there was my father looking out the landing window. And he smiled and waved – he had no idea I was running away. And he’ll never understand why I did. He’s a good man and a fair-minded man and he’ll try; but it will never make sense to him. And he’s going to be puzzled and hurt for the rest of his life.

  O’Neill Shhhh.

  Mabel I’m all right. Just a little bit confused, Hugh. Just a little bit nervous. Everything’s so different here. I knew it would be strange – I knew that. But I didn’t think it would be so … foreign. I’m only fifty miles from home but I feel very far away from everything I know.

  O’Neill Give me your hand.

  Mabel It’s not black. I’ll be all right, Hugh. Just give me time. We’re a tough breed, the Upstarts.

  O’Neill I have a present for you.

  Mabel Yes?

  O’Neill It’s a new invention – a time-piece you carry around with you. It’s called a watch.

  Mabel A what?

  O’Neill A watch. You wear it on your finger just like a ring.

  Mabel Where did you get that thing?

  O’Neill I had it made for you in London; specially.

&nb
sp; Mabel Oh, Hugh –

  O’Neill The only other person I know who has one is Queen Elizabeth.

  Mabel It’s a beautiful thing, Hugh, really beautiful.

  O’Neill Elizabeth wears it on this finger.

  Mabel The Queen has one! And I have the only other one! Queen Elizabeth and Countess Mabel – why not?

  O’Neill Why not indeed?

  Mabel It really is beautiful. Thank you. Thank you very much. (She kisses him.) I’m sorry, Hugh. I’ll never cry like that again. That’s a promise. Never again. Ever. We’re a tough breed, the O’Neills.

  Quick black.

  SCENE TWO

  Almost a year has passed. The same rooms as in Scene One, but Mabel has added to the furnishings and the room is now more comfortable and more colourful.

  Mabel is sitting alone doing delicate and complicated lacework. She works in silence for some time. Then from offstage the sudden and terrifying sound of a young girl shrieking. This is followed immediately by boisterous laughter, shouting, horseplay and a rapid exchange in Irish between a young girl and a young man.

  Mabel is terrified by the shriek. She drops her lacework. Her eyes are shut tight. She sits frozen in terror for a few seconds – even when it is obvious that the screaming is horseplay. Then in sudden fury she jumps to her feet and goes to the exit left. As she goes – and unseen by her – her sister Mary enters right. Mary Bagenal is slightly older than Mabel. Like Mabel there is a hint of Staffordshire in her accent. And like Mabel she is a determined young woman.

  Mabel (at exit) Shut up out there! D’you hear me? Just shut up! If you want to behave like savages, go on back to the bogs! (She is suddenly aware – and embarrassed – that Mary has overheard her outburst.) Just horseplay. You would think they were killing each other, wouldn’t you? And I’m wasting my breath because they don’t understand a word of English. (There is an awkward silence. Mabel picks up her lacework.)

  Mary They’re getting my carriage ready. It’s a long way back to Newry.

  Mabel It’s only fifty miles.

  Mary I suppose that’s all.

  Mabel (impulsively) Stay the night, Mary.

  Mary I can’t.

  Mabel Please. For my sake. Please.

  Mary I’d like to, Mabel; you know I would but –

  Mabel Just one night.

  Mary If I’m not home before dark – you know our Henry – he’d be worried sick.