Brian Friel Plays 1

by Brian Friel

  TOM: Yeah.

  CASIMIR: And you’ve seen all the old diaries in the library?

  TOM: That’s all covered.

  CASIMIR: Splendid, splendid. So what you want now is – well, what?

  TOM: Family lore, family reminiscences. For example, where did this (crucifix) come from?

  CASIMIR: Cardinal O’Donnell; present from Salamanca. No relation, just a great family friend. And a Donegal man, of course; a neighbour, almost. Remember him, Alice?

  ALICE: Who?

  CASIMIR: Cardinal O’Donnell.

  ALICE: Do I remember him? He must be dead seventy years.

  CASIMIR: He’s not.

  ALICE: At least.

  CASIMIR: Is he? Ah. Good heavens. I suppose you’re right. In that case. Well, let’s see what else we have. Oh, yes, everything has some association. Hopkins you know.

  (TOM begins writing again.)

  TOM: Got that.

  CASIMIR: And this is Chesterton.

  TOM: Sorry?

  CASIMIR: G. K. Chesterton.

  TOM: The ashtray?

  CASIMIR: The footstool.

  TOM: Foot –

  CASIMIR: He was giving an imitation of Lloyd George making a speech and he lost his balance and – Kraask! – Bam! – Smaak! – Boom! – down on his back across the fender. And you know the weight of Chesterton – he must be twenty stone! The fender’s still dented, isn’t it, Alice?

  ALICE: Yes.

  (She goes out to the lawn and sits on one of the deck-chairs. CLAIRE begins to play Sonata No. 3 in B minor, Op. 58 – Third Movement.)

  CASIMIR: Sprained elbow and bruised ribs.

  TOM: Great.

  CASIMIR: Laid up in the nursery for five days.

  TOM: That could have been when? – doesn’t matter – I’ll check it out. How often did he visit Ballybeg Hall?

  CASIMIR: Oh, I’ve no idea – often, often, often – oh, yes. And Father and Mother spent part of their honeymoon with him in England, (To ALICE) didn’t they? – (Sees she is gone.) Oh, they were very close friends. Father wanted me to be christened Gilbert Keith but Mother insisted on Casimir – he was a Polish prince – Mother liked that. And this (chaise-longue) is Daniel O’Connell, The Liberator – tremendous horseman, O’Connell – see the mark of his riding-boots? And that’s the fifty-eight –

  TOM: The clock?

  CASIMIR: Chopin sonata – third movement.

  TOM: Oh.

  CASIMIR: And this (candlestick) is George Moore, the writer – I wonder why that’s George Moore. And this (book) is Tom Moore – you know – Byron’s friend – (Sings) ‘Believe me if all those endearing young charms which I gaze on so fondly today’. And this (Bible) is Hilaire Belloc; wedding present to Father and Mother. And this is Yeats. And –

  TOM: What’s Yeats?

  CASIMIR: This cushion (on chaise-longue).

  TOM: Cushion – Yeats –

  CASIMIR: Oh, he was – he was just tremendous, Yeats, with those cold, cold eyes of his. Oh, yes, I remember Yeats vividly.

  TOM: That would have been when you were? –

  CASIMIR: On one occasion sat up three nights in succession, just there, on Daniel O’Connell, with his head on that cushion and his feet on Chesterton, just because someone had told him we were haunted. Can you imagine! Three full nights! But of course we weren’t haunted. There was never a ghost in the Hall. Father wouldn’t believe in ghosts. And he was quite peeved about it; oh, quite peeved. ‘You betrayed me, Bernard,’ he said to Father. ‘You betrayed me’, and those cold eyes of his burning with –

  (He breaks off suddenly because CLAIRE has switched from the Sonata to a waltz – A flat major (Posth.) – ‘The Bedtime Waltz’.)

  CASIMIR: Listen! Listen! The Bedtime Waltz! Oh, that’s my favourite – that’s easily my favourite.

  (He joins ALICE outside.)

  CASIMIR: Alice, do you know what that is?

  ALICE: (Sings) ‘Now off to bed, my darlings

  It’s time to say goodnight’

  (CASIMIR and ALICE sing together.)

  ‘So up the stairs, my sweethearts

  And soon you’ll be sleeping tight.’

  (TOM has joined them outside.)

  CASIMIR: Beautiful, isn’t it? Oh, that’s easily my favourite; oh, easily, easily. The Bedtime Waltz. It’s the A flat major actually but we call it The Bedtime – don’t we, Alice? – because as soon as Mother’d begin to play it, we’d have to dash upstairs – remember? – dash upstairs and wash ourselves and say our night prayers and be in bed before she’d finished. Isn’t it so beautiful? (Sings) ‘Now off to bed, my darlings …’

  (They all listen to the music for a few moments.)

  CASIMIR: My God, isn’t she playing well? The impending

  marriage – that’s what it is: the concentration of delight and fear and expectation. And Judith tells me she’s been in really bubbling humour for months and months – not one day of depression. Not even one; maybe she’s grown out of it. Isn’t it marvellous? May I tell you something, Tom? We always said among ourselves, Judith and Alice and I – isn’t this true, Alice?

  ALICE: Isn’t what true?

  CASIMIR: We always said – well, no, it was never quite expressed; but we always, you know, we always suspected – amn’t I right, Alice?

  ALICE: What are you saying, Casimir?

  CASIMIR: Just that we always thought that perhaps Claire

  darling was the type of girl, you know, the kind of girl – we always had the idea that our little Claire was one of those highly sensitive, highly intelligent young girls who might choose – who might elect to remain single in life. Ha-ha. That’s what we thought. Isn’t that true, Alice?

  ALICE: And we were wrong.

  CASIMIR: Indeed we were wrong! Thank goodness we were wrong! Not that she isn’t an attractive girl, a very attractive girl – isn’t she attractive, Tom? – don’t you find Claire attractive?

  ALICE: For God’s sake, Casimir –

  CASIMIR: What’s wrong with that? Tom finds little Claire attractive or he doesn’t find her attractive?

  TOM: She’s a very personable young lady.

  CASIMIR: Personable – that’s the word – an excellent word – personable. Of course she is. And such a sweet nature. And her young man, I gather, is an exceptionally fine type. You’ve met him, Tom, have you?

  TOM: Just once – briefly.

  CASIMIR: I’m really looking forward to meeting him. Aren’t you, Alice? A mature man who neither smokes nor drinks and –

  ALICE: A middle-aged widower with four young children.

  CASIMIR: That’s fine – that’s fine. Claire is exceptionally good with children. Judith told me that when she was giving those piano lessons to the children in the village –

  ALICE: What lessons? What children?

  CASIMIR: All last winter she went every evening to five or six houses until – you know – poor old Claire – the old trouble – over-anxiety, that’s all it is basically, I’m sure that’s all it is – and when she had to give it up, I’m sure she missed the pin-money – I mean she must have – what was I talking about? Yes, all those children. Judith wrote and told me they were devoted to her – Judith told me that. And her young man, Jerry, runs a very successful greengrocer’s business and he has a great white lorry with an enormous plastic banana on top of the cab and he supplies wonderful fresh vegetables to all the hotels within a twenty-mile radius and he’s also an accomplished trumpet player and they play duets together. Good. Good. It all sounds just – just – just so splendid and so – so appropriate. Everything’s in hand. Everything’s under control. I’m so happy, so happy for her. Ha-ha.

  (His head rotates between ALICE and TOM in very rapid movements, staring at them with his fixed, anguished smile. Silence. Then suddenly the music changes – a waltz – E flat major (Posth.).)

  CASIMIR: Dance with me, Alice.

  ALICE: Casimir.

  CASIMIR: (Shouts) Clever, clever, Claire! Bravo! (
To ALICE) Please.

  ALICE: Not now.

  CASIMIR: In celebration.

  ALICE: You never could dance.

  CASIMIR: Try me – come on – come on!

  ALICE: Please. I’m –

  (He grabs her hands and pulls her to her feet.)

  CASIMIR: One-two-three

  One-two-three –

  ALICE: For God’s sake –

  CASIMIR: One-two-three

  One-two-three

  ALICE: Casimir!

  CASIMIR: (Sings) Alice and Casimir

  Alice and Casimir

  Alice and Casimir

  One-two-three

  One-two-three –

  (He is now dancing with the reluctant ALICE and singing so loudly that he does not hear the phone ring.)

  TOM: Your call, Casimir!

  CASIMIR: Over and round again

  Back and forth, down again –

  TOM: Casimir!

  CASIMIR: Isn’t she terrific! And an even better ballet dancer, and she has certificates in French to prove it!

  TOM: Call to Hamburg!

  CASIMIR: What?

  TOM: Germany!

  (CASIMIR stops suddenly. He hears the phone now. The high spirits vanish instantly.)

  CASIMIR: God – Helga – that’ll be Helga! Ha-ha.

  (He runs into the study and grabs the phone.)

  CASIMIR: Halloh? Halloh? Helga? Bist du da, Helga? Halloh? Halloh?

  (ALICE flops into a seat.)

  TOM: I’m sorry I can’t dance.

  ALICE: Thank God for that. Is that whiskey I saw in there?

  TOM: Can I get you some?

  ALICE: Would you, please?

  (TOM goes into the study and picks up the drinks tray.)

  CASIMIR: Yes, yes, I’m holding, Mrs Moore, I’m holding.

  (To TOM) Terrific!

  TOM: You’re through?

  CASIMIR: Yes.

  TOM: Good.

  CASIMIR: To Letterkenny. (Into phone) Very well, thank you, Mrs Moore – they’re all very well. And how is Mr Moore keeping? Oh, good Lord, I never heard that – six years ago? Oh, good heavens, I’m very sorry – (To TOM) Ha-ha.

  (TOM carries the tray outside.)

  ALICE: Has he got through?

  TOM: I think not quite.

  ALICE: Sometimes when I ring home from London it takes me two hours.

  TOM: Hey, you’ve hurt your cheek.

  ALICE: Have I? Must have bumped into something last night. It’s not sore. Have a drink yourself.

  TOM: I will, thanks. Do you come home often?

  ALICE: You’re not going to interrogate me again, are you?

  TOM: Would you mind?

  ALICE: I don’t know any answers.

  TOM: When you were growing up, did you mix at all with the local people?

  ALICE: We’re ‘local people’.

  TOM: Sure; but you’re gentry; you’re big house.

  ALICE: Eamon’s local – Eamon’s from the village.

  TOM: But as kids did you play with other Ballybeg kids?

  ALICE: We were sent off to boarding-school when we were seven or eight.

  TOM: Casimir, too?

  ALICE: He went to the Benedictines when he was six.

  TOM: Wow. And afterwards?

  ALICE: After we left boarding-school? Judith and Claire and I went to a convent in Carcassone – a finishing school – and became … young ladies (Raises glass), didn’t we?

  TOM: Indeed. And Casimir?

  ALICE: Began law in the family tradition but always hated books. So he left home – went to England – worked at various ‘genteel’ jobs. Then he met Helga and she took him off to Germany. I think he works part-time in a food-processing factory – I don’t want to ask him. Helga’s the real bread-winner: she’s a cashier in a bowling alley. Anything else?

  TOM: Tell me about Eamon.

  (She rises and fills her glass again.)

  ALICE: Didn’t we talk about that last night?

  TOM: Briefly.

  ALICE: What did I tell you?

  (He consults his notebook.)

  TOM: ‘Poised for a brilliant career in the diplomatic service when –’

  ALICE: ‘Poised for a –’ I never said that!

  TOM: I’m quoting you.

  ALICE: I must have been drunk.

  TOM: Then the civil rights movement began in the North in ’68. The Dublin government sent him to Belfast as an observer and after a few months observing and reporting he joined the movement. Was sacked, of course. Moved to England and is now a probation officer with the Greater London Council. Right?

  ALICE: Listen – Claire’s tired at last.

  TOM: What was your father’s attitude?

  ALICE: To Eamon?

  TOM: To the civil rights campaign.

  ALICE: He opposed it. No, that’s not accurate. He was indifferent: that was across the Border – away in the North.

  TOM: Only twenty miles away.

  ALICE: Politics never interested him. Politics are vulgar.

  TOM: And Judith? What was her attitude? Was she engaged?

  ALICE: She took part in the Battle of the Bogside. Left Father and Uncle George and Claire alone here and joined the people in the streets fighting the police. That’s an attitude, isn’t it? That’s when Father had his first stroke. And seven months later she had a baby by a Dutch reporter. Does that constitute sufficient engagement?

  (They are interrupted by the sound of laughter and horse-play from the hall.)

  CLAIRE: Give me that, Eamon!

  EAMON: Jump for it!

  CLAIRE: I’m warning you!

  CASIMIR: Shhhh – please!

  EAMON: Jump-jump-jump-jump-jump!

  CLAIRE: Eamon, I’m telling you! –

  EAMON: Doesn’t it suit me?

  (They burst into the study – EAMON wearing the head-dress of Claire’s wedding outfit. She is trying to recover it. EAMON is in his thirties. CLAIRE, the youngest daughter, is in her twenties. At this moment she is in one of her high moods: talkative, playful, energetic. On other occasions she is solitary and silent and withdrawn. They are now in the study.)

  CLAIRE: Beautiful on you. Now give it back to me at once!

  CASIMIR: Please – please.

  EAMON: Sorry.

  CASIMIR: Hamburg.

  EAMON: What?

  CASIMIR: Helga.

  EAMON: Ah. (To CLAIRE) Behave yourself.

  CASIMIR: Looking marvellous.

  EAMON: Me?

  CASIMIR: Splendid.

  EAMON: Hungover.

  CASIMIR: You weren’t drunk.

  CLAIRE: He was full.

  EAMON: Great cure this morning.

  CASIMIR: The A flat major, Claire? The Bedtime – wasn’t I right?

  CLAIRE: Full marks.

  (EAMON suddenly stoops down to the level of the mouthpiece of the phone and speaks rapidly into it.)

  EAMON: ‘Mrs Moore isn’t poor –’

  CASIMIR: Eamon –!

  EAMON: ‘Mrs Moore’s a rich aul’ hoor!’

  CASIMIR: Oh, God!

  CLAIRE: Troublemaker! Come on!

  EAMON: See you outside, Casimir.

  CASIMIR: No, nothing, Mrs Moore – I didn’t speak – sorry – sorry –

  (CLAIRE has EAMON by the arm and drags him outside. As he goes he bumps into the chaise-longue, the table, etc. As he does:–)

  EAMON: Begging your pardon, your eminence, your worship, your holiness – sorry, Shakespeare, Lenin, Mickey Mouse, Marilyn Monroe –

  (They are now out on the lawn.)

  EAMON: Like walking through Madame Tussaud’s, isn’t it, Professor? Or a bloody mine-field?

  (CLAIRE grabs her head-dress from his head.)

  CLAIRE: Thank you.

  EAMON: Won’t she be a beautiful bride?

  TOM: Certainly will.

  CLAIRE: Lucky for you it’s not soiled.

  ALICE: Let’s see it, Claire.

  CLAIRE: I’m going to shorte
n that net.

  ALICE: Very smart. Did you get it in Derry?

  CLAIRE: Judith made it. And the dress. And her own outfit, too. Economy.

  ALICE: It’s very pretty.

  CLAIRE: Did you know that on the morning Grandmother O’Donnell got married the whole village was covered with bunting and she gave a gold sovereign to every child under twelve? And the morning Mother got married she distributed roses to everyone in the chapel. I was wondering what I could do – what about a plastic bag of vegetables to every old-age pensioner? I suppose it’ll soon be lunch-time, won’t it?

  TOM: That was great music.

  (She looks directly at him and does not speak. He feels he has to add something.)

  Really wonderful. I enjoyed it. Really great.

  CLAIRE: No, it wasn’t.

  TOM: I thought it was.

  CLAIRE: I’m only a good pianist. I’m not a great pianist. I thought I was once. But I know I’m not.

  EAMON: (To TOM) So there!

  ALICE: Is this what you’re going to shorten?

  CLAIRE: Maybe. I don’t know. What do you think?

  ALICE: Let’s see it on.

  EAMON: (To ALICE) Granny sends her warmest love.

  (ALICE turns away from him.)

  She was disappointed you weren’t with me but I said you had a headache. That wasn’t a lie, was it?

  (ALICE ignores him. She addresses CLAIRE.)

  ALICE: Maybe a fraction of an inch; but I like it as it is.

  EAMON: Down in the village visiting my grandmother, Professor.

  TOM: So I understand.

  EAMON: Reared me from a pup, you might say. When I was three, the family had to emigrate to Scotland for work and I was left behind with granny. (Arms around CLAIRE.) Her very special love to you, she says. And she’s sending up a small present tomorrow.

  CLAIRE: I called in with her the day before yesterday.

  EAMON: And brought her yellow roses.

  CLAIRE: But I can’t persuade her to come to the wedding.

  EAMON: All she wanted is to be asked. And you were wearing a white cotton dress and a pale-blue headscarf and you looked like an angel. (He hugs her briefly and releases her.) Over the years, Professor, I’ve lusted after each of the three O’Donnell girls in turn. (Sees the drink.) Where was this hidden? I thought we guzzled every drop of booze in the house last night?

  TOM: Willie brought it.