Brian Friel Plays 1

by Brian Friel

  NED: I seen one.

  TOM: ’Cos they’re English. Staying at the hotel. But the big red thing – she’s one of Neil McFadden’s girls.

  NED: Annie? Is Annie home?

  JOE: Aye, she is. So I heard the mammy saying.

  NED: Bloody great! That’s me fixed up for the next two weeks! Were any of youse ever on that job?

  JOE: No, I wasn’t, Ned.

  TOM: For God’s sake, she wouldn’t spit on you!

  NED: Game as they’re going, big Annie. But you need the constitution of a horse. I had her for the fortnight she was home last year and she damned near killed me.

  PUBLIC: Big Annie from up beyond the quarry?

  JOE: You know, Gar – the one with the squint.

  NED: (With dignity) Annie McFadden has no squint.

  PUBLIC: Away and take a running race to yourself, Ned.

  NED: (With quiet threat) What do you mean?

  PUBLIC: You were never out with Big Annie McFadden in your puff, man,

  NED: Are you calling me a liar?

  PRIVATE: (Wearily) What’s the point.

  TOM: (Quickly) Oh, by God, Ned was there, Gar, many’s and many’s the time. Weren’t you, Ned?

  PUBLIC: Have it your own way.

  JOE: (Nervously) And maybe she got the squint straightened out since I saw her last. All the women get the squints straightened out nowadays. Dammit, you could walk from here to Cork nowadays and you wouldn’t see a woman with a –

  NED: I just don’t like fellas getting snottery with me, that’s all. (There follows an uneasy silence during which PRIVATE surveys the group.)

  PRIVATE: The boys … They weren’t always like this, were they? There was a hell of a lot of crack, wasn’t there? There was a hell of a lot of laughing, wasn’t there?

  TOM: (Briskly) Bit of life about the place next week, lads – the Carnival. Too bad you’ll miss it, Gar. By God it was a holy fright last year, night after night. (To NED) Remember?

  NED: (Sulkily) Bloody cows, the whole bloody lot of them!

  TOM: Mind the night with the two wee Greenock pieces?

  NED: (Thawing) Aw, stop, stop!

  TOM: Talk about hot things!

  NED: Liveliest wee tramps I ever laid!

  TOM: And the fat one from Dublin you picked up at the dance that night – the one that hauled you down into the ditch!

  NED: I was never the same since.

  TOM: (To PUBLIC) Whatever it is about him (NED), if there’s a fast woman in the country, she’ll go for Ned first thing.

  Lucky bugger! (Pause.) Aye, lucky bugger!

  (Another brief silence. These silences occur like regular cadences. To defeat them someone always introduces a fresh theme.)

  PUBLIC: I’m for off tomorrow, boys.

  NED: (Indifferently) Aye, so, so …

  TOM: Brooklyn, isn’t it?

  PUBLIC: Philadelphia.

  TOM: Philadelphia. That’s where Jimmy Crerand went to, isn’t it? Philadelphia …

  NED: (Quickly) Mind the night Jimmy and us went down to the caves with them Dublin skivvies that was working up at the Lodge? (To PUBLIC) Were you? – No, you weren’t with us that night.

  JOE: Was I there, Ned?

  NED: You mind the size of Jimmy? – five foot nothing and scared of his shadow.

  PUBLIC: Best goalie we ever had.

  NED: One of the women was Gladys and the other was Emmy or something –

  TOM: Dammit, I mind now! Gladys and Emmy – that was it, Ned!

  NED: Anyhow the rest of us went in for a swim –

  TOM: In the bloody pelt!

  NED: – and your man Jimmy was left in the cave with the women; and what the hell do they do but whip the trousers off him!

  JOE: No, I wasn’t there that night.

  NED: And the next thing we see is wee Jimmy coming shouting across the White Strand and the two Dublin cows haring after him.

  TOM: Not a stab on him!

  NED: – and him squealing at the top of his voice, ‘Save me, boys, save me!’

  TOM: Never drew breath till he reached home!

  NED: You (GAR) missed that night.

  TOM: ‘Save me, boys, save me!’

  NED: I don’t think we went to bed that night at all.

  TOM: You may be sure we didn’t.

  NED: Powerful.

  (Another silence descends. After a few seconds PRIVATE speaks.)

  PRIVATE: We were all there that night, Ned. And the girls’ names were Gladys and Susan. And they sat on the the rocks dangling their feet in the water. And we sat in the cave, peeping out at them. And then Jimmy Crerand suggested that we go in for a swim; and we all ran to the far end of the shore; and we splashed about like schoolboys. Then we came back to the cave, and wrestled with one another. And then out of sheer boredom, Tom, you suggested that we take the trousers off Crerand – just to prove how manly we all were. But when Ned started towards Jimmy – five foot nothing, remember? – wee Jimmy squared up and defied not only the brave Ned but the whole lot of us. So we straggled back home, one behind the other, and left the girls dangling their feet in the water. And that was that night.

  PUBLIC: If the ground’s not too hard, you’ll do well on Sunday.

  NED: Hard or soft – (Examining his boot.) – I’ve a couple of aul scores to settle.

  PUBLIC: You’ll never get as good a half-back as the one you’re losing.

  NED: (Quickly, with pretended interest) D’you know what I’m thinking? We’d better see about transport.

  TOM: Dammit, you’re right. I’ll get the aul fella’s van easy enough. Can you get your Charlie’s lorry?

  NED: Just maybe. I’d better try him the night.

  JOE: What about a song from Gar, boys, before we break up?

  NED: What time is it?

  JOE: It’s early in the night yet.

  TOM: Twenty past nine.

  NED: We’d better move then; Charlie was talking about going to a dance in Ardmore.

  TOM: Dammit, that’s an idea!

  JOE: We’ll all go-a big last night for Gar!

  NED: Ardmore? Are you mad? Bloody women in that place don’t know what they’re for!

  TOM: True for you. Scream their heads off if you laid a hand on them.

  NED: But I’ll tell you what we’ll do – call in home first to see Charlie and then go on to the hotel for a dirty big booze-up.

  JOE: I don’t like drinking in that place.

  NED: Them two English bits – what’s their name?

  TOM: Them strangers? Agh you wouldn’t have a chance there. They do nothing but walk and look at weeds and stuff –

  NED: Who wouldn’t have a chance?

  TOM: I know, Ned. But them two – they’re sort of

  stiff-looking – like – like they worked in a post-office or something.

  NED: They’re women, aren’t they?

  TOM: Dammit, we might! … Still I don’t know … They knit a lot … (To PUBLIC) What d’you think?

  JOE: I vote we stay here.

  PUBLIC: And you can count me out. I’ve an early start.

  NED: £10 to a shilling I click with one or other of them!

  PUBLIC: I won’t be here to collect my winnings.

  NED: Come on! Any takers? Never clapped eyes on them and I’m offering ten notes to a bob!

  TOM: Cripes I know that look in his eyes!

  NED: Wise bloody men! The blood’s up, lads! Off to the front! Any volunteers for a big booze-up and a couple of women?

  TOM: Did he say women? Sign me on!

  JOE: I don’t think I’m in form the night, boys –

  NED: We’ll show them a weed or two, eh?

  TOM: Out to the sandbanks! Get them in the bloody bent!

  NED: We’re away – Wait! Wait! – How much money have you?

  (They both produce their money – a fistful of small coins.)

  TOM: 2s 6d … 2s 11d … 3s 3d … 3s 5½d.

  NED: And I have 6s 2d. It’ll have to do. Say a
prayer they’re fast and thrifty.

  TOM: Dirty aul brute! Lead the way, Bull!

  NED: I’m telling you-the blood’s up!

  TOM: Coming, lads?

  PUBLIC: I’m getting up at half six.

  NED: (Casually from the door) So long, Gar. You know the aul rule – if you can’t be good …

  TOM: Send us a pack of them playing cards – the ones with the dirty pictures on the back!

  NED: And if the women are as easy as the money out there, we might think of joining you. (To TOM) Right, old cock?

  TOM: Bull on regardless! Yaaaaaaaaaaah!

  (They open the door. NED hesitates and begins taking off the broad leather belt with the huge brass buckle that supports his trousers.)

  NED: (Shyly, awkwardly) By the way, Gar, since I’ll not see you again before you go –

  TOM: Hi! What are you at? At least wait till you’re sure of the women!

  NED: (Impatiently to TOM) Agh, shut up! (To PUBLIC) If any of them Yankee scuts try to beat you up some dark night, you can … (Now he is very confused and flings the belt across the room to PUBLIC) … you know … there’s a bloody big buckle on it … many’s a get I scutched with it …

  TOM: Safe enough, lads: he has braces on as well!

  NED: I meant to buy you something good, but the aul fella didn’t sell the calf to the jobbers last Friday … and he could have, the stupid bastard, such a bloody stupid bastard of an aul fella!

  PUBLIC: (Moved) Thanks, Ned … thanks …

  JOE: Dammit, I have nothing for you, Gar.

  TOM: (Quickly) Are we for the sandbanks or are we not?

  NED: You’ll make out all right over there … have a …

  TOM: I know that look in his eyes!

  (NED wheels rapidly on TOM, gives him a more than playful punch, and says savagely:)

  NED: Christ, if there’s one get I hate, it’s you!

  (He goes off quickly, TOM looks uncertainly after him, looks back at PUBLIC, and says with dying conviction:)

  TOM: The blood’s up … Oh, by God, when he goes on like that, the … the blood’s up all right …

  (TOM looks after NED, then back to JOE and GAR, as if he can’t decide which to join, then impetuously he dashes off after NED, calling:)

  Hi! Ned, Ned, wait for me …

  (There is a silence. PUBLIC is looking at the belt. JOE begins to fidget. Now PUBLIC becomes aware of him.)

  PUBLIC: What the hell are you waiting for?

  JOE: Dammit, man, like it’s your last night and all, and I thought –

  PUBLIC: Get to hell and run after them.

  JOE: Sure you know yourself they’ll hang about the gable of the hotel and chat and do nothing.

  PUBLIC: For God’s sake, man, those English women will be swept off their feet!

  JOE: (Uncertainly) You’re taking a hand at me now.

  PUBLIC: I’m telling you, you’re missing the chance of a lifetime.

  JOE: Maybe – eh? – what d’you think?

  PUBLIC: Go on! Go on!

  JOE: God, maybe you’re right. You never know what’ll happen, eh? You finish that (drink) for me! God, maybe we’ll click the night! Say a wee prayer we do! Cripes, my blood’s up too! Where’s my cap?

  (He grabs the cap, dashes to the door, remembers he won’t see GAR again.)

  JOE: Send us a card, Gar, sometimes, eh?

  PUBLIC: Surely, Joe.

  JOE: Lucky bloody man. I wish I was you.

  PUBLIC: There’s nothing stopping you, is there?

  JOE: Only that the mammy planted sycamore trees last year, and she says I can’t go till they’re tall enough to shelter the house.

  PUBLIC: You’re stuck for another couple of days, then. Away off with you, man.

  JOE: Good luck, Gar. And tell Madge that the next time she asks us up for tea we’d bloody well better get it.

  PUBLIC: She asked you?

  JOE: That’s why I was joking her about us keeping our word. As if we wanted tea, for God’s sake! But I’d better catch up with the stirks before they do damage … So long, aul cock!

  (He runs off.)

  PUBLIC: Madge … Oh God …

  (PRIVATE moves over beside him. He speaks quickly, savagely at first, spitting out the first three lines. Gradually he softens, until the speech ends almost in a whisper:)

  PRIVATE: They’re louts, ignorant bloody louts and you’ve always known it! And don’t pretend you’re surprised; because you’re not. And you know what they’ll do tonight, don’t you? They’ll shuffle around the gable of the hotel and take an odd furtive peep into the lounge at those English women who won’t even look up from their frigid knitting! Many a time you did it yourself, bucko! Aye, and but for Aunt Lizzy and the grace of God, you’d be there tonight, too, watching the lights go out over the village, and hearing the front doors being bolted, and seeing the blinds being raised; and you stamping your feet to keep the numbness from spreading, not wanting to go home, not yet for another while, wanting to hold on to the night although nothing can happen now, nothing at all … Joe and Tom and big, thick, generous Ned … No one will ever know or understand the fun there was; for there was fun and there was laughing – foolish, silly fun and foolish, silly laughing; but what it was all about you can’t remember, can you? Just the memory of it – that’s all you have now – just the memory; and even now, even so soon, it is being distilled of all its coarseness; and what’s left is going to be precious, precious gold …

  (There is a knock at the door. PUBLIC goes off to answer it.)

  KATE: (Off) Hello, Gar.

  PRIVATE: Kate!

  KATE: (On) This isn’t a healthy sign, drinking by yourself.

  PRIVATE: Talk! Talk!

  PUBLIC: What – what are you doing here?

  KATE: I hear you’re off to America.

  PUBLIC: First thing in the morning.

  KATE: You wouldn’t think of calling to say good-bye to your friends, I suppose?

  PUBLIC: I was going to, but I –

  PRIVATE: Careful!

  PUBLIC: – it went clean out of my mind. You know how it is, getting ready …

  KATE: I understand, Gar.

  PRIVATE: She’s a married woman, you bugger!

  KATE: Philadelphia?

  PUBLIC: Yes. Take a seat.

  KATE: To an aunt, isn’t it?

  PUBLIC: That’s right. A sister of mother’s.

  KATE: And you’re going to work in a hotel.

  PUBLIC: You know as much about it as I do.

  KATE: You know Baile Beag – Small Town.

  PUBLIC: I’ll probably go to night-school as well – you know, at night –

  PRIVATE: Brilliant.

  PUBLIC: – do law or medicine or something –

  PRIVATE: Like hell! First Arts stumped you!

  KATE: You’ll do well. Gar; make a lot of money, and come back here in twenty years’ time, and buy the whole village.

  PUBLIC: Very likely. That’s my plan anyhow.

  PRIVATE: Kate … Kathy …

  PUBLIC: How’s your father and mother?

  KATE: Fine, thanks. And Mr O’Donnell?

  PUBLIC: Grand, grand. Is Dr King well?

  KATE: I hear no complaints.

  PRIVATE: Then the Dauphiness of Versailles. And surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she just began to move in –

  PUBLIC: (A shade louder than necessary) I’ll come home when I make my first million, driving a Cadillac and smoking cigars and taking movie-films.

  KATE: I hope you’re very happy there and that life will be good to you.

  PUBLIC: (Slightly louder) I’ll make sure life’s good to me from now on.

  KATE: Your father’ll miss you.

  PUBLIC: (Rapidly, aggressively) That’s his look out! D’you know something? If I had to spend another week in Ballybeg, I’d go off my bloody head! This place would drive a
nybody crazy! Look around you, for God’s sake! Look at Master Boyle! Look at my father! Look at the Canon! Look at the boys! Asylum cases, the whole bloody lot of them!

  PRIVATE: (Pained) Shhhhhhh!

  PUBLIC: Listen, if someone were to come along to me tonight and say, ‘Ballybeg’s yours – lock, stock, and barrel,’ it wouldn’t make that (Cracks his fingers) much difference to me. If you’re not happy and content in a place – then – then – then you’re not happy and content in a place! It’s, as simple as that. I’ve stuck around this hole far too long. I’m telling you: it’s a bloody quagmire, a backwater, a dead-end! And everybody in it goes crazy sooner or later! Everybody!

  PRIVATE: Shhhhhhhh …

  PUBLIC: There’s nothing about Ballybeg that I don’t know already. I hate the place, and every stone, and every rock, and every piece of heather around it! Hate it! Hate it! And the sooner that plane whips me away, the better I’ll like it!

  KATE: It isn’t as bad as that, Gar.

  PUBLIC: You’re stuck here! What else can you say!

  PRIVATE: That’ll do!

  PUBLIC: And you’ll die here! But I’m not stuck! I’m free! Free as the bloody wind!

  KATE: All I meant was –

  PUBLIC: Answerable to nobody! All this bloody yap about father and son and all this sentimental rubbish about ‘homeland’ and ‘birthplace’ – yap! Bloody yap! Impermanence – anonymity – that’s what I’m looking for; a vast restless place that doesn’t give a damn about the past. To hell with Ballybeg, that’s what I say!

  PRIVATE: Oh, man …

  KATE: I’d better go. Francis’ll be wondering what’s keeping me.

  PUBLIC: (Recklessly) Tell him I was asking for him.

  KATE: Good-bye, Gar.

  PUBLIC: (In same tone) Enjoy yourself, Kate. And if you can’t be good – you know?

  (PUBLIC goes with KATE.)

  (Off) Be sure to call the first one after me.

  (She is gone. PUBLIC returns and immediately buries his face in his hands.)

  PRIVATE: Kate … sweet Katie Doogan … my darling Kathy Doogan …

  (PUBLIC uncovers his face and with trembling fingers lights a cigarette and takes a drink. As he does:)

  PRIVATE: (Very softly) Oh, my God, steady man, steady – it is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France, then the Dauphiness, at Versailles, and surely never lighted on this orb – Oh, God, Oh, my God, those thoughts are sinful – (Sings) ‘As beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping with a pitcher of milk –’