Brian Friel Plays 2

by Brian Friel

  O’Neill So Mabel …?

  Lombard (pretending irritation) You’re incorrigible, Hugh O’Neill! You know that, don’t you? You never give up. All I’ve got down on paper is a general outline and a couple of opening pages and the man keeps badgering me about minor details!

  O’Neill So Mabel …?

  Lombard Let me ask you a question. In the big canvas of national events – in your exchanges with popes and kings and queens – is that where Mabel herself thought her value and her importance resided? Is that how she saw herself? But she had her own value, her own importance. And at some future time and in a mode we can’t imagine now I have no doubt that story will be told fully and sympathetically. It will be a domestic story, Hugh; a love story; and a very beautiful love story it will be. But in the overall thing, Hugh … How many heroes can one history accommodate? And how will I emerge myself for heaven’s sake? At best a character in a subplot. And isn’t that adequate for minor people like us? Now, Hugh, tell me, how do you want to rewrite my outline?

  O’Neill The overall thing – yes, that was her expression.

  Lombard I made you a solemn promise. I’ll rewrite it in any way you want. What changes do you want me to make? (Pause.) Not necessarily anything major. (Pause.) Even small adjustments. (Pause.) Just say the word. (Pause.) Now I’m badgering you – amn’t I? Forgive me. And if any idea or suggestion does occur to you over the next weeks or months, sure I’ll be here, won’t I? Neither of us is going anywhere – unless Plunkett and O Domhnaill recruit us for their next expedition. Now. It’s time for a drink. We’ve earned it. My poor mouth’s dry from blathering. Affane – where are you?

  O’Neill A lure to perdition – is that what you called it?

  Lombard A foretaste of immortality. It really is wonderful. Easy – easy – don’t gulp it down. Sip it slowly. Savour it.

  Harry enters, carrying a bottle.

  Ah, Harry! We’re just about to kill this bottle of poitin. But, as the man says, it’s not going to die without the priest. Will somebody please hit me every time I make one of those hoary clerical jokes? What’s that you have?

  Harry A bottle of wine.

  Lombard Where did that come from?

  Harry I got it ten minutes ago.

  O’Neill I thought we had no money?

  Harry It’s only cheap chianti.

  O’Neill Where did the money come from?

  Harry I had an old pair of shoes I didn’t want. The porter had some bottles to spare. Who wants a glass?

  Lombard Do you know what you are, Harry? A loyal and faithful man. Now that is a truth! (He pauses beside Hugh as he goes to the desk. Privately) Trust it, Hugh. Trust it. (aloud) To all of us. May we live for ever – in one form or another. And now I’m going to give the first public recital of The History of Hugh O’Neill. In the name of God – I know the opening by heart! In the name of God. Herewith I set my hand to chronicle the life of Hugh O’Neill –

  When O’Neill speaks he speaks almost in a whisper in counterpoint to Lombard’s public recitation. His English accent gradually fades until at the end his accent is pure Tyrone.

  O’Neill By the Queen of England, France and Ireland her most gracious favour created Earl of Tyrone –

  Lombard Son of Feardorcha, son of Conn Bacagh, son of Conn Mor, noblest son of noble lineage, who was fostered and brought up by the high-born nobles of his tribe –

  O’Neill I do with all true and humble penitency prostrate myself at your feet and absolutely submit myself to your mercy, most sorrowfully imploring your commiseration and appealing only to your clemency –

  Lombard He continued to grow and increase in comeliness and urbanity, tact and eloquence, wisdom and knowledge, goodly size and noble deeds so that his name and fame spread throughout the five provinces of Ireland and beyond –

  O’Neill May it please you to mitigate your just indignation against me for my betrayal of you which deserves no forgiveness and for which I can make no satisfaction, even with my life –

  Lombard And people reflected in their minds that when he would reach manhood there would not be one like him of the Irish to avenge their wrongs and punish the plunderings of his race –

  O’Neill Mabel, I am sorry … please forgive me, Mabel …

  Lombard For it was foretold by prophets and by predictors of futurity that there would come one like him –

  A man, glorious, pure, faithful above all

  Who will cause mournful weeping in every territory.

  He will be a God-like prince

  And he will be king for the span of his life.

  O’Neill is now crying. Bring down the lights slowly.

  WONDERFUL TENNESSEE

  for D. E. S. Maxwell

  Characters

  Three married couples

  all in their late thirties/early forties:

  Terry

  Berna

  George

  Trish

  Frank

  Angela

  Terry is Trish’s brother.

  Angela and Berna are sisters.

  Set

  The action takes place in the present day on a remote pier in north-west Donegal.

  A stone pier at the end of a headland on the remote coast of north-west Donegal. The stonework is grained with yellow and grey lichen. The pier was built in 1905 but has not been used since the hinterland became depopulated many decades ago. The pier extends across the full width of the stage. It begins stage left (the mainland) and juts out into the sea so that it is surrounded by water on three sides – the auditorium, the area stage right, and the back wall (left and right from the point of view of the audience).

  From the floor of the pier stone steps lead down to the sea/auditorium. Steps also lead up to the catwalk, eighteen inches wide and about five feet above the floor of the pier. From the catwalk one can see over the back wall of the pier (about ten feet high) and right across the surrounding countryside and sea.

  There are some weather-bleached furnishings lying around the pier floor: fragments of fishing nets, pieces of lobster pots, broken fish-boxes. Some rusty bollards and rings. A drift of sand in the top right-hand corner. Stones once used as weights inside lobster pots. A listing and rotting wooden stand, cruciform in shape, on which hangs the remnant of a life-belt.

  People can enter and exit only stage left.

  Wonderful Tennessee was first performed at the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, on 30 June 1993. The cast was as follows:

  Terry Donal McCann

  Berna Ingrid Craigie

  George Robert Black

  Trish Marion O’Dwyer

  Frank John Kavanagh

  Angela Catherine Byrne

  Directed by Patrick Mason

  Designed by Joe Vanek

  Lighting by Mick Hughes

  Act One

  SCENE ONE

  A very warm day in August. Early afternoon. Silence and complete stillness. Then after a time we become aware that there are natural sounds: the gentle heave of the sea; a passing seagull; the slap and sigh of water against the stone steps. This lasts until we have established both a place and an environment of deep tranquillity and peace.

  Now we hear another sound from a long distance away – an approaching minibus, and almost as soon as we identify the sound, discrepant and abusive in this idyllic setting, fade in the sound of people singing ‘Happy Days are Here Again’. Boisterous singing, raucous singing, slightly tiddly, day-excursion singing that is accompanied on the piano accordion. Trish sings a solo line and this is greeted with laughter, mockery, cheers, encouragement. Then everybody joins in again.

  Now the minibus has arrived and stops at the end of the pier (i.e. stage left off) and the idyllic atmosphere is completely shattered: doors banging; shouting; laughter; a sense of excitement and anticipation; animated, overlapping chatter:

  Trish Help! We’re lost!

  Berna Where are we?

  Terry This is it.

  Trish You’re lost, Terry;
admit it; we’re lost.

  Frank It – is – wonderful!

  Angela This can’t be it, is it?

  Terry Believe me – this is it.

  Trish Help!

  Frank (off) sings the title line of the song, ‘Happy Days are Here Again’.

  Angela Where’s this wonderful island? I see no island.

  Trish We’re lost – we’re lost – we’re lost! Help!

  Terry This is where we get the boat, Trish.

  Trish Oh my God – lost!

  Frank Anybody see my camera?

  Trish Lost – lost!

  Terry Isn’t it wonderful?

  Frank Sober up, everybody, please.

  Angela You’re joking, Terry, aren’t you?

  Trish Lost, I’m telling you. This is the back of nowhere.

  Terry This is it – believe me.

  George plays ‘O Mother, I could weep for mirth / Joy fills my heart so fast’. Trish sings, ‘– weep for mirth –’ and says:

  Trish So could I, George.

  And Frank simultaneously sings the line, ‘Joy fills my heart so fast’ to George’s accompaniment.

  Berna Mind the step.

  Angela Admit it, Terry: you’re lost.

  Berna Here’s your camera, Frank.

  Trish Let me out of here. Help!

  Frank Thanks, Berna.

  Trish I’m going straight back with you, Charlie.

  Angela What in God’s name are we doing here?

  Terry Admit it – isn’t it wonderful?

  Trish Wonderful, he says! Help!

  Terry Yes, I think it’s wonderful.

  Frank There’s not a house within a hundred miles.

  Berna Let’s all go back with Charlie.

  Trish Heeeeeeeeelp!

  Now George begins to play ‘I Want to be Happy’. Cheers and mocking laughter at the choice. Through his playing:

  Angela Right, George! So do I!

  Trish Happy – here?

  Angela Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah! Why not?

  Berna Happy, happy, happy, happy.

  Frank Yes, George, yes.

  And they join in the song and continue talking through it.

  Berna Whose sleeping-bag is this?

  Trish Mine, Berna. Thank you.

  Angela At least we’ll get a bit of sun.

  Trish Hand me that blanket, Berna.

  Frank We’re the first people ever to set foot here.

  Berna Here’s your sun hat, Angela.

  Frank Careful. I’m closing this door.

  Trish Help!

  Terry enters, animated, laughing, excited. Like all the others he is dressed in colourful summer clothes. He has a sleeping-bag slung over his shoulder and carries two large expensive hampers filled with food and drink.

  As Terry enters, calling, off:

  Is this your idea of a joke, Terry?

  George stops playing.

  Terry (on) What’s that?

  Trish (off) Is this some kind of practical joke?

  Terry Believe me – it’s everything you ever dreamed of.

  Frank (off) Wonderful!

  Terry Believe me.

  And immediately George strikes up ‘I Want to be Happy’ again.

  Quite right, George! (sings:)

  ‘… But I won’t be happy

  Till I make you happy, too’.

  George continues with the song; and some of the people off join in the singing. But Terry’s laughter suddenly stops. Eagerly, with a hint of anxiety, he searches out the island (at the back of the auditorium, right) and at the same time in a low, barely audible voice, he mumbles/speaks the words of the song the others are singing off. Now he has found the island. He drops the hampers. He slips the straw hat off his head, holds it against his chest and gazes out to sea. After a few seconds Frank enters. Like Terry he is dressed in bright summer clothes.

  Frank The minibus is about to –

  Terry is so intent on the island that he does not hear him.

  Terry, your minibus is about to head home and Charlie wants to know – (He calls, impatiently:) Please, Angela!

  Terry Look, Frank.

  Frank Turn it down, Angela, would you?

  Terry There it is.

  Frank That’s a crowd of lunatics you have there. So what time tomorrow is Charlie to come back for us?

  Terry Whenever it’s bright.

  Frank It’ll be sort of bright all night, I hope. Let’s say – what? – seven? – seven thirty?

  Terry That’s fine.

  Frank Seven thirty OK with you?

  Terry (indifferently) Fine – fine.

  Burst of laughter off.

  Frank Surely to God they can’t keep that pace up all night!

  As he turns to leave, Berna enters. Dressed for the outing and carrying a hold-all, various bags, a sleeping-bag, etc.

  Berna (singing earnestly) ‘When skies are grey and you say you are blue –’

  Frank Certainly am, Berna.

  He swings her round in a dance and sings along with her.

  Frank and Berna ‘I’ll send the sun smiling through –’

  Frank Wowo-wow-wow-wow! Hey, Terry; some mover that lady of yours! (exiting) Right, Charlie. All settled. Seven thirty tomorrow morning.

  The moment Frank exits, Berna’s brittle-bright face is transformed with anxiety. She goes quickly to Terry’s side and speaks in a low, urgent voice. George suddenly stops playing ‘I Want to be Happy’ in mid-phrase and plays ‘Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring’.

  Trish Lovely, George. (She sings with George.)

  Berna I want to go home.

  Terry There it is, Berna. Look.

  Berna Take me home, Terry – please.

  Terry Wonderful, isn’t it?

  Berna Please, Terry.

  Terry Just for tonight, Berna – just one night. Believe me – you’ll love it.

  Berna Have you any idea how desperately unhappy I am?

  Terry Berna, I –

  Berna I don’t think I can carry on, Terry.

  Terry Of course you can carry on. The doctor says you’re a lot better. (He reaches out to touch her.) Did you remember to take your pills this morning?

  The music stops.

  Berna (quietly, almost with pity) For God’s sake …

  She moves quickly away from him and busies herself with her belongings. The moment she says ‘For God’s sake’ the engine starts up. Again the overlapping voices off:

  Trish He’s going.

  Angela See you tomorrow morning.

  Trish Help!

  Frank Don’t go, Charlie! Don’t abandon us!

  Angela Thank you, Charlie.

  Trish Stop him! Don’t let him go!

  George begins to play ‘Aloha’ and this is greeted with laughter and groans and singing.

  Frank Perfect, George! (He sings a phrase of the song.)

  Trish Come back, Charlie! Help! Come back!

  Angela ’Bye, lovely world!

  Frank continues singing.

  Trish ’Bye, civilization.

  Angela ’Bye, Charlie.

  Trish Don’t forget us, Charlie.

  All ’Bye … ’bye … ’bye …

  Terry and Berna stand in silence, motionless, watching the departing bus.

  Berna (softly) ’Bye, Charlie … ’bye …

  The music, the singing, the shouting all stop. The sound of the departing bus fades away. Silence. Once again the landscape is still and totally silent. Then Angela, unaccompanied and at half the song’s usual tempo, belts out the defiant line –

  Angela (sings) ‘I want to be happy –’

  Trish Damn right, Angela!

  Angela (sings) ‘But I won’t be happy –’

  Trish Why not?

  Angela (sings) ‘Till I make you happy, too.’

  And at this point she is joined first by George on the accordion, then by Trish, and then, very privately, almost inaudibly, by Berna. After Angela’s first line, ‘I want to be happy’, slowly
accelerate the tempo to normal.

  Now enter – immediately after the line ‘Till I make you happy too’ – George, Angela, Frank and Trish (in that order); each holding on to the waist of the person in front; all (except George) singing lustily; all doing a clownish, parodic conga dance, heads rolling, arms flying – a hint of the maenadic. All are dressed in bright summer clothes and each carries some gaudy summer equipment – straw bags, sun hats, sleeping-bags, sun umbrellas, cameras, binoculars, etc., etc. Suddenly the pier becomes a fairground. George is the accordionist. His neck is swathed in a white bandage. On those rare occasions when he speaks his voice is husky and barely audible. Trish has a plastic cup (wine) in one hand. Angela swings an empty wine bottle by the neck. The moment they come on stage Terry’s face lights up and happily, extravagantly, he joins in the singing and the dance.

  All ‘Life’s really worth living –’

  Trish Come on, Berna! Party time!

  And after a moment’s hesitation Berna joins in the parade and the singing with earnest, deliberate enthusiasm.

  All

  ‘When we are mirth-giving –

  Why can’t I give some to you?’

  Frank now stands aside and takes a series of rapid photographs. Now only Terry and Angela sing to George’s accompaniment.

  Terry and Angela ‘When skies are grey –’

  Trish Terrific, Angela!

  Terry and Angela ‘– and you say you are blue –’

  Terry Your wife’s a star, Frank.

  Frank Blessed, amn’t I?

  Angela (solo) ‘I’ll send the sun smiling through –’

  Give me your hand, Berna! So –

  Now back to the very slow tempo and the exaggerated steps. Angela and Berna, hand in hand, dance/promenade across the pier.

  Angela and Berna ‘I want to be happy –’

  Frank The wonderful sisters!

  Angela and Berna

  ‘But I won’t be happy

  Till I make you happy too.’

  Angela suddenly stops and holds her head.