by Brian Friel
TOM: What have you got against me, Eamon?
EAMON: And of course you’ll have chapters on each of the O’Donnell forebears: Great Grandfather – Lord Chief Justice; Grandfather – Circuit Court Judge; Father – simple District Justice; Casimir – failed solicitor. A fairly rapid descent; but no matter, no matter; good for the book; failure’s more lovable than success. D’you know, Professor, I’ve often wondered: if we had had children and they wanted to be part of the family legal tradition, the only option open to them would have been as criminals, wouldn’t it? (Offering the bottle) There’s enough here for both of us. No? (He pours a drink for himself.) After we went upstairs last night, Alice and I, we had words, as they say. She threw a book at me. And I struck her. You’ve noticed her cheek, haven’t you? No one else here would dream of commenting on it; but you did, didn’t you? And she didn’t tell you, did she? Of course she didn’t. That’s why she’s freezing me. But she’ll come round. It’ll be absorbed. Duty’ll conquer.
TOM: I don’t want to hear about your –
EAMON: What have I got against you?
TOM: Yes. You’re the only member of the family who has been … less than courteous to me since I came here. I don’t know why that is. I guess you resent me for some reason.
(EAMON considers this. He is not smiling new.)
EAMON: Nervous; that’s all. In case – you’ll forgive me – in case you’re not equal to your task. In case you’ll loot and run. Nervous that all you’ll see is – (Indicates the croquet game) – the make-believe.
(JUDITH enters the study. As she does, the phone rings. She answers it.)
EAMON: No, I don’t resent you, Professor. I’m sure you’re an honest recorder. I’m nervous of us; we don’t pose to our best advantage.
JUDITH: Casimir!
CASIMIR: Hello?
CLAIRE: I have you on the run now.
CASIMIR: You certainly have not.
JUDITH: Phone, Casimir!
(His usual response to this.)
CASIMIR: The phone! – Helga – that’ll be Helga – sorry – sorry – excuse me – sorry –
(As he rushes into the study he trips on the step.)
CASIMIR: I beg your pardon – forgive me –
(He rushes on in.)
CLAIRE: You play for him until he comes back, Willie.
WILLIE: Me?
CLAIRE: There’s nothing to it.
WILLIE: Aw, g’way out of that.
CLAIRE: Come on. You start over there.
WILLIE: Sure I mean to say –
CLAIRE: You aim for that post first and then you drive the ball through the hoop over in that far corner.
CASIMIR: Hello? Hello? Hello?
(WILLIE looks round at the others. He is embarrassed and afraid of being laughed at – particularly by EAMON – so he laughs foolishly.)
WILLIE: Me playing croquet – and nothing to play with! Jaysus! Sure I never even seen the game in my –
CLAIRE: You’ve been watching us, haven’t you? (Thrusts a mallet into his hand.) Go on! All you do is hit the ball. It’s very simple.
WILLIE: All the same you feel a bit of an eejit – (To EAMON) They have me playing croquet now, Eamon! Without balls nor nothin’! Jaysus!
EAMON: Go ahead, William. Take the plunge. Submit to baptism. You’ll never look back.
WILLIE: I couldn’t –
CLAIRE: If you’re going to play, will you play!
CASIMIR: Halloh? Halloh? Helga? Wer spricht dort, bitte?
(WILLIE hesitates. Then suddenly flings off his jacket, spits on his hands and rubs them together.)
WILLIE: Right – right – I’ll play – indeed and I’ll play – where’s the ball? – Give us a mallet – out of my road – where do I begin? Let me at it.
(As before keep up the dialogue during the CLAIRE – WILLIE game. JUDITH, who has been tidying in the study, now comes out.)
EAMON: How is he?
JUDITH: All right. I think. It might be just the heat. (He gives her his glass.) What about you?
(He looks around – finds another.)
EAMON: Here we are.
CLAIRE: Very good, Willie. You’re getting the hang of it.
WILLIE: Am I? By Jaysus maybe I am too.
(EAMON sits beside JUDITH. She is aware he is looking at her.)
JUDITH: It’s almost warm. (Pause.) I get sleepy if I take more than one glass. (Pause.) This must be my third today.
(ALICE moves in her seat.)
ALICE: Oh, that’s very nice.
JUDITH: She’s got older looking.
EAMON: Yes.
JUDITH: Has it become a real problem?
EAMON: When is a problem a real problem?
JUDITH: I suppose when you can’t control it.
EAMON: She was fine until November, dry for almost eighteen months. Since then she’s been in hospital twice. And I knew this trip would be a disaster.
JUDITH: I tried to talk to her last night –
EAMON: About her drinking?
JUDITH: No, no; about London. I was suggesting she get a job. She said none of us was trained to do anything. And she’s right – we’re not. Anyhow she cut me off. But she was always closer to Claire; and Casimir, of course.
EAMON: We live in a damp basement flat about half the size of the morning-room. I’m out all day and a lot of nights. It’s a very lonely life for her. You’ll miss Claire.
JUDITH: Yes.
EAMON: She won’t be far away.
JUDITH: That’s true.
EAMON: Just you and Father.
JUDITH: And Uncle George.
EAMON: And Uncle George.
JUDITH: Yes.
EAMON: It’ll be a quiet house.
JUDITH: We manage.
WILLIE: Go on – go on – go on – go on.
EAMON: You said that morning you’d marry me.
JUDITH: We manage because we live very frugally. There’s Father’s pension; and I get some money from letting the land; and I grow all the vegetables we use; and I enjoy baking –
EAMON: Why did you change your mind?
JUDITH: So that apart from doctor’s bills the only expenses we have are fuel and electric and the phone. And I’m thinking of getting rid of the phone. It’s used very little anyhow.
EAMON: You never told me why.
WILLIE: You missed it! You missed it!
CLAIRE: I did not!
WILLIE: You weren’t within a bloody mile of it! Ha-ha-ha-ha.
JUDITH: And I have Willie. I don’t think I could manage without Willie’s help. Yes, I probably could. Yes, of course I would. But he’s the most undemanding person I know. Some intuitive sense he has: he’s always there when I want him. And everything he does is done so simply, so easily, that I almost take him for granted.
EAMON: Judith, I –
(She closes her eyes and her speech becomes tense and deliberate, almost as if she were talking to herself.)
JUDITH: Listen to me, Eamon. I get up every morning at 7.30 and make breakfast. I bring Father his up first. Very often the bed’s soiled so I change him and sponge him and bring the clothes downstairs and wash them and hang them out. Then I get Uncle George his breakfast. Then I let the hens out and dig the potatoes for the lunch. By that time Claire’s usually up so I get her something to eat and if she’s in one of her down times I invent some light work for her to do, just to jolly her along, and if she’s in one of her high times I’ve got to try to stop her from scrubbing down the house from top to bottom. Then I do out the fire, bring in the turf, make the beds, wash the dishes. Then it’s time to bring Father up his egg-flip and shave him and maybe change his clothes again. Then I begin the lunch. And so it goes on and on, day after day, week after week, month after month. I’m not complaining, Eamon. I’m just telling you my routine. I don’t even think of it as burdensome. But it occupies every waking moment of every day and every thought of every day. And I know I can carry on – happily almost, yes almost happily – I know I can
keep going as long as I’m not diverted from that routine, as long as there are no intrusions on it. Maybe it’s an unnatural existence. I don’t know. But it’s my existence – here – now. And there is no end in sight. So please don’t intrude on it. Keep out of it. Now. Altogether. Please.
(She lights a cigarette. Pause.)
EAMON: Whatever the lady wants. (
TOM joins them. EAMON rises and flashes a radiant smile at him.)
EAMON: Semper permanemus. (Almost into Tom’s face as he shuffles past him.) ‘Ba-doo-be-da-da-da-ba-dab …’
(TOM ignores him. EAMON picks up an empty wine bottle and examines it with excessive interest.)
TOM: I’ve some packing to do. Thank Casimir for lunch, will you?
JUDITH: Yes.
TOM: I’d be careful of that sun. You should have your head covered.
(He goes off right, WILLIE is dawn on his hunkers, fanning an imaginary ball through an imaginary hoop.)
WILLIE: Come on, my wee darling, come on, come on, come on, another inch, another wee fraction – And it’s through! I’ve won! I’ve won!
(He is elated with his triumph. His elation is genuine – not part of the make-believe. And his triumph has given him a confidence. He reaches for his jacket and swaggers off the court with great assurance.)
CLAIRE: It’s not over yet.
WILLIE: Over! Finished! You’re bet! Pack it in! I won, Eamon!
CLAIRE: I’ve one more shot –
WILLIE: Bet to the ropes! Your tongue’s hanging out! Throw in the towel! Aul’ Slooghter won hands down! Up the back shore boys!
CLAIRE: Watch this, Willie.
WILLIE: I’m watching nothing! The game’s over! (To EAMON) What do you make of that, lad, eh?
EAMON: ‘So deep is the n-n-n-n-n-night …’
CLAIRE: It’s through, Willie.
WILLIE: Takes an aul’ Diver every time!
(ALICE is awakened by the noise. WILLIE pursues EAMON.)
WILLIE: Never had a mallet in my hand before! Never stood on a croquet court before! Bloody good, eh?
EAMON: ‘Terrific’. (He gives one of Casimir’s grins.) A real insider now, Willie.
WILLIE: Give us a slug of something there – I’m as dry as a lime-kiln. What’s in that?
(EAMON hands him the empty wine bottle.)
EAMON: Here.
WILLIE: Jaysus, that’s empty!
EAMON: Imagine it’s full. Use your peasant talent for fantasy, man.
(CASIMIR has finished his call. He comes outside. He is uneasy but tries to hide it.)
CASIMIR: Well. That’s that job done. Glad to get that off my mind. What’s been happening out here?
JUDITH: Did you get through?
CASIMIR: Little Heinrich I was speaking to actually – he’s the baby – he’s seven – little Heinrich. Helga’s out at one of her SG meetings. Ha-ha.
ALICE: What’s her SG?
CASIMIR: The Spiritualisten Gruppe – she’s a spiritualist, Helga – table-rapping, seances, all that stuff – total believer. They meet every fortnight; and they’re so passionate about it – oh, my goodness, you’ve no idea how passionate. I pretend I’m sympathetic – you know – domestic harmony – ha-ha. So that’s where she is now – at her SG meeting.
JUDITH: I’m sure Heinrich misses you.
CASIMIR: Oh yes – oh yes. But the line was bad. And the trouble is, you see, the trouble is his English is as bad as my German – if that’s possible! No problem, no problem at all when we’re together – I mean we can smile and make signs and stagger on; but it’s so difficult on the phone. And of course Helga’s right – I mean they’ve got to be a little German family, haven’t they? After all they’re German, aren’t they? So. Yes, they’re all fine, thank goodness. Fine. He said to tell you all ‘Grüsse’ – that’s the German for – for ‘regards’ – ‘salutations’ – oh, he’s a very intelligent young man; very independent; very self-contained. I really must make one more big effort with my German.
JUDITH: Time we cleared this mess up.
CASIMIR: No, no; not yet. I’ve a great treat for all of you – Anna’s tape!
ALICE: I forgot about that.
CASIMIR: Could you all gather round and I’ll play the tape Anna sent me last Christmas. Messages for everybody! A real, real treat!
WILLIE: Maybe I should go and leave yous to –
CASIMIR: Go? For heaven’s sake! I’d be deeply offended if you left. And so would Anna.
(He begins to arrange the seats in a wide arc facing out. The others help him and begin picking up the remains of the picnic. As they do this work the following passages overlap.)
JUDITH: (To CLAIRE) What tape is this?
CLAIRE: I don’t know. Never heard of it.
ALICE: (To WILLIE) How did it go?
WILLIE: What?
ALICE: That mad game you were playing.
WILLIE: I won.
ALICE: How do you know when you lose?
CASIMIR: Would you sit here, Eamon?
EAMON: Anywhere you like.
CASIMIR: Splendid. Where’s Tom?
JUDITH: Gone to do some packing. He said thank you for the lunch.
CASIMIR: I don’t suppose he’d be very interested. (As he switches tapes.) Disposing of you temporarily, Claire. But don’t worry – we’ll reinstate you.
(Everyone is in position. CASIMIR stands before them, the cassette in his hand. He is happy to be master of ceremonies.)
CASIMIR: Good. Fine. Splendid. Are we all settled? Well, before I begin, may I explain to our guest here –
CLAIRE: Who’s the guest?
ALICE: I’m the guest.
CASIMIR: Willie’s our guest – and a very welcome guest he is, too. (ALICE claps.) And I just wish to explain to him that little Anna joined the convent twenty years ago, when she was only seventeen –
ALICE: Eighteen.
CASIMIR: – and that apart from one visit home she’s been in Africa ever since; so that her knowledge of our lives is perhaps slightly – hasn’t kept pace perhaps with the way –
ALICE: For God’s sake just play it, Casimir.
CASIMIR: Yes, Ah. Yes. Play it. Indeed I –
JUDITH: Shhhh!
CLAIRE: What?
JUDITH: Listen! (They all listen for a moment.) Sorry. Thought I heard Father. Go ahead.
CASIMIR: Should I get Uncle George out?
ALICE: Casimir!
CASIMIR: Sorry – sorry – no point at all, is there? Yes. Are we all ready? Splendid. Sister John Henry. Little Anna.
(He places the cassette an the lawn and switches it on. Anna’s voice is a child’s voice. She speaks slowly and distinctly as if she were reading from a school-book.)
ANNA: Hello Daddy and Judith and Alice and Casimir and little Claire.
ALICE: Hello, Anna.
ANNA: This is Anna speaking to you all the way from St Joseph’s mission in Kuala in Zambia. I hope you are all together when this is being played because I am imagining you all sitting before a big log fire in the drawing-room – Daddy spread out and enjoying his well-earned relaxation after his strenuous day in court and the rest of you sitting on the rug or around the Christmas tree in the north window.
(ALICE has been trying to attract Claire’s attention – she wants her glass refilled. But CLAIRE does not notice her. Finally she has to whisper: –)
ALICE: Claire.
CASIMIR: Shhh.
ALICE: Just a drop.
(CLAIRE fills the glass.)
ANNA: How are you all? May I wish each and every one of you – and you, too, dear Nanny – are you there, Nanny?
ALICE: Sorry, sister.
ANNA: – may I wish you all a holy and a happy Christmas and all of God’s peace and content for the New Year.
ALICE: Amen.
ANNA: Later in the tape Reverend Mother who is here beside me will say a few words to you and after that you will hear my school choir singing some Irish songs that I have taught them –
A
LICE: God!
ANNA: – and some African songs they have taught me.
ALICE: Good God!
ANNA: I hope you will enjoy them. But first I wish to speak to my own dear Daddy. How are you‚ Daddy? I ought to be cross with you for never writing to me but I know how busy you always are providing for us, and Judith tells me in her letters that you are in very good health. So thank God for that.
(FATHER enters the study. An emaciated man; eyes distraught; one arm limp; his mouth pulled down at one corner. A grotesque and frightening figure. He is dressed only in pyjamas. The tops are buttoned wrongly and hang off his shoulders; the bottoms about to slip off his waist. He moves very slowly – one step at a time – through the study. He is trying to locate where Anna’s voice is coming from – his distraught eyes are rolling round the room. When he speaks his voice is barely audible.)
FATHER: Anna?
ANNA: But before I go any further, I’m going to play the violin for you – a little piece you always liked me to play for you: The Gartan Mother’s Lullaby. Do you remember it?
FATHER: (Slightly louder) Anna?
ANNA: So this is my Christmas present to you, my dear Daddy. I hope you like it.
(She plays a few bars of the music – the playing of a child. Now FATHER is almost at the study door. He raises his head and emits an almost-animal roar.)
FATHER: Annaaaaaaaaaaa!
(The listeners outside do not react for a second. Then they panic. ALICE grabs the cassette to switch it off – and instead turns the volume up so that the tape’s scream and FATHER’s roar overlap for a few seconds. They all leap to their feet – chairs are overturned – but seem to be incapable of action. CASIMIR is on his knees, transfixed, immobile. CLAIRE is on the point of hysteria. FATHER’s roar stops. Saliva is dribbling from his mouth. He begins to sink to the ground. EAMON, who is furthest away from him‚ is the first to move. He runs to FATHER and catches him as he collapses so that they both sink to the ground together. Now the tape is silenced. EAMON screams at the others – screams as if his own life depended on it.)
