Brian Friel Plays 1

by Brian Friel

  CASIMIR: Isn’t it?

  ALICE: Claire darling, that was just beautiful playing.

  CLAIRE: Thanks.

  CASIMIR: Yes; it’s a sonata.

  CLAIRE: So you’ve said.

  CASIMIR: Is it not?

  ALICE: Would you like to sit here, facing the sun?

  CLAIRE: I’m fine. (To CASIMIR) You don’t know!

  JUDITH: Please, everybody –

  CASIMIR: And it’s either – and I’m not absolutely certain –

  CLAIRE: You don’t know!

  JUDITH: Claire –

  CASIMIR: It’s either the –

  JUDITH: May I –?

  CASIMIR: 58 – right?

  JUDITH: Please may I speak?

  CLAIRE: (Whispers) Wrong.

  CASIMIR: (Whispers) 59?

  JUDITH: Could I have a moment now that we’re all here?

  CASIMIR: Sorry – sorry. I beg your pardon, Judith.

  CLAIRE: (Whispers) Completely wrong.

  JUDITH: We haven’t got all that much time. (To CASIMIR) Here’s a seat.

  (He sits. CLAIRE grins at him behind Judith’s back. He signals another answer. She rejects this, too. He is deflated. ALICE has not taken her eyes off CLAIRE. Now she goes to her.)

  ALICE: I got a glimpse of you coming down the aisle this morning and I had a sudden memory of you coming down on the morning of your first communion; and you looked exactly the same as you did then – not one day older – a beautiful little innocent child. Hasn’t changed a bit, has she? (She looks round for confirmation; but everyone is silent and waiting.) What’s wrong?

  JUDITH: I would like to talk about what’s to happen now that Father’s gone – before you all leave.

  ALICE: Sorry. Sorry. Of course. Go ahead.

  JUDITH: I know he has left everything to the four of us – the house, the furnishings, the land. And the question is: what are we going to do?

  ALICE: Well, as far as I’m concerned, my home’s in London, Casimir’s is in Hamburg, and this house is yours and Claire’s. (To CASIMIR) Isn’t that right?

  CASIMIR: Oh, yes; oh‚ yes, indeed.

  ALICE: Naturally we’ll come back now and again. But the Hall must be your home. So the next time we’re here we’ll sign over to you whatever our share is – or better still have the papers drawn up and sent to us. The important thing is to have it all formal. (TO CASIMIR) Don’t you agree?

  CASIMIR: I –

  ALICE: (To JUDITH) I see no problem.

  EAMON: What has Casimir to say?

  CASIMIR: Me? Oh, yes, Alice is right, absolutely right. I mean I would hope to bring the boys over some time for a holiday – a short holiday – if I may. But I would be really happy for you to have it all, Judith – and Claire – oh, yes, very happy. You deserve it. It should be yours. It must be yours. Oh, yes.

  ALICE: So. We’re all agreed.

  CASIMIR: One small thing: would it be possible – would you mind very much if I took that photo of mother in the silver frame – a keepsake, you know –

  ALICE: That’s the one on the drawing-room mantelpiece?

  CASIMIR: Yes. It’s really very small. But I would – I would really cherish that. If I may.

  ALICE: And the sooner the place is in your names the better – before we all have a big row some day! And that’s that. All settled. (To EAMON) Do we need to keep an eye on the time?

  EAMON: Judith has other ideas, I think.

  ALICE: Have you? What ideas?

  JUDITH: Owning the place, going on living here – it’s not as simple as it looks. In fact it’s impossible.

  ALICE: Why?

  JUDITH: We can’t afford it. You’ve forgotten – no, you’ve never known – the finances of this place. For the past seven years we’ve lived on Father’s pension. That was modest enough. And now that’s gone. The only other income is from the land and Willie takes that because no one else would; but that can’t continue. So that from now on there’s no money coming in. Last October when the storm lifted the whole roof off the back return I tried to get an overdraft from the bank. The manager was very sympathetic but he couldn’t help – actually what he said was that the house was a liability.

  EAMON: That’s bloody –

  JUDITH: Then I got a dealer down from Dublin to evaluate the library and some of the furniture. He offered me £70 for the grandmother clock and £90 for the whole library. So eventually Willie and I put up polythene sheets and nailed them to the rafters. And the floor in the morning-room has collapsed with dry-rot – haven’t you seen it? – and every time there’s heavy rain, we have to distribute – (To CLAIRE) how many is it? – seventeen buckets in the upstairs rooms to catch the water. And the only fire we had all last winter was in Father’s bedroom. And on a day like this it looks so beautiful, doesn’t it?

  (Short pause.)

  ALICE: Judith, God forgive us, we never for a second suspected –

  JUDITH: That’s just one side of the story.

  ALICE: Oh but we can all help. We must. None of us is wealthy but the very least we can do is –

  JUDITH: So there’s no point in signing the place over to us – well over to me. I’m not going to go on living here. Maybe Claire –

  CLAIRE: I’m getting out, too, amn’t I? I’m getting married, amn’t I?

  ALICE: (To JUDITH) Where will you go? What will you do?

  JUDITH: The first thing I’m going to do is take the baby out of the orphanage.

  ALICE: Of course. Yes.

  JUDITH: ‘The baby’ – he’s seven now. (To CASIMIR) Do you know he’s two days younger than your Heinrich? Where I’ll go I haven’t made up my mind yet. Willie has a mobile home just outside Bundoran. He has a lot of slot-machines around that area and he wants me to go there with him.

  ALICE: That would be –

  JUDITH: But he doesn’t want the baby. So that settles that. Anyhow I’ve got to earn a living somehow. But the only reason I brought all this up is – what’s to become of Uncle George?

  EAMON: What you’re saying is that after Claire’s wedding – if you can wait that length – you’re going to turn the key in the door and abandon Ballybeg Hall?

  JUDITH: I’m asking –

  EAMON: You know what will happen, don’t you? The moment you’ve left the thugs from the village will move in and loot and ravage the place within a couple of hours. Is that what you’re proposing? Oh, your piety is admirable.

  JUDITH: I’m asking what’s to become of Uncle George.

  EAMON: Judith’s like her American friend: the Hall can be assessed in terms of roofs and floors and overdrafts.

  ALICE: Eamon –

  EAMON: No, no; that’s all it means to her. Well I know it’s real worth – in this area, in this county, in this country. And Alice knows. And Casimir knows. And Claire knows. And somehow we’ll keep it going. Somehow we’ll keep it going. Somehow we’ll –

  ALICE: Please, Eamon.

  (JUDITH breaks down. Pause.)

  EAMON: Sorry … sorry … sorry again … Seems to be a day of public contrition. What the hell is it but crumbling masonry. Sorry. (Short laugh.) Don’t you know that all that is fawning and forelock-touching and Paddy and shabby and greasy peasant in the Irish character finds a house like this irresistible? That’s why we were ideal for colonizing. Something in us needs this … aspiration. Don’t despise us – we’re only hedgehogs, Judith. Sorry.

  (He goes to the gazebo.)

  ALICE: He hates going back to London. He hates the job. (Pause.) What is there to say? There’s nothing to say, is there?

  JUDITH: No.

  (Silence. CLAIRE rises and crosses the lawn. As she passes CASIMIR:—)

  CLAIRE: A ballade.

  CASIMIR: Sorry?

  CLAIRE: Ballade in A flat major.

  CASIMIR: (Indifferently) Ah. Was it really? No, I’d never have got that. There you are. Never.

  (He gets up and begins his pacing. Pause.)

  ALICE: So the baby’s seven now?

>   JUDITH: Eight next month.

  ALICE: The woman in the flat above us has a little girl. She comes in to us every evening after school. Eamon buys her sweets. She’s devoted to him. He’s great with children.

  JUDITH: Yes?

  ALICE: Avril, Avril Harper. Lovely affectionate child.

  JUDITH: What age is she?

  ALICE: She’s just eight.

  JUDITH: They say that’s a very interesting age.

  ALICE: She’s a very interesting child. And a very affectionate child.

  (The conversation dies again. ALICE rises.)

  CASIMIR: (To CLAIRE) There’s still some clay on your shoes.

  CLAIRE: Did you notice a wreath of red and yellow roses at the foot of the grave? That was from the children I taught last winter. There were five of them and they put their pocket money together to buy it. Wasn’t that kind of them? And each of them came up to me in turn and shook my hand very formally and said how sorry they were. I asked them to be sure and visit me in my new home. They said they would. I made them promise. They said they would.

  (Another silence.)

  ALICE: Are you sure Willie’s coming?

  JUDITH: Yes; he knows; he’ll be here.

  ALICE: Time enough anyway.

  CASIMIR: There was a telegram from the bishop, Judith.

  JUDITH: Yes.

  CASIMIR: Out on the hall table.

  JUDITH: I saw it.

  ALICE: What did it say?

  CASIMIR: Deepest sympathy to you all and to George on your great loss – something like that.

  JUDITH: We still haven’t reached a decision about Uncle George.

  (CASIMIR suddenly stops pacing and exclaims – almost wails – in his panic.)

  CASIMIR: Oh my God!

  CLAIRE: What?

  CASIMIR: Oh good God!

  (He dashes into the study, as always tripping an the step and apologizing over his shoulder.)

  CASIMIR: Sorry – sorry – I beg your –

  (He rushes to the phone. His sudden departure shatters the mood. EAMON comes out of the gazebo. The others come together.)

  ALICE: What’s wrong, Casimir?

  EAMON: What happened?

  JUDITH: Is he ill?

  ALICE: I don’t know. He suddenly bolted.

  CLAIRE: Listen!

  EAMON: Is he sick?

  CLAIRE: Listen!

  CASIMIR: Hello? Hello? Yes, Mrs Moore, it’s me again. I’m afraid. I’m a nuisance, amn’t I? That telegram I sent to Germany – Yes, yes, indeed the house will be lonely – Very nice sermon, indeed; very moving – I’ll tell her that; of course I will; thank you very much –

  ALICE: I thought he was going to be sick.

  CASIMIR: That telegram I sent to Germany an hour ago, Mrs Moore – has it gone? Ah. Well, That’s that – No, no, I’m not complaining – oh, no – I’m delighted, thank you, absolutely delighted, thank you …

  (He rings off and comes outside. He is thoroughly wretched. Everybody is staring at him. He manages one of his grins.)

  CASIMIR: Ha-ha. Oh good God.

  ALICE: Is something wrong?

  CLAIRE: What’s the matter, Casimir?

  CASIMIR: Sent a telegram to Helga. To let her know I’d be home tonight.

  ALICE: And so you will.

  CASIMIR: Yes.

  JUDITH: What’s wrong, Casimir?

  CASIMIR: Tried to cancel it but it’s gone. I told you she’s a great believer in that spiritualist stuff – seances, ghosts, things – I told you that, didn’t I? Yes, I did. Well, you see, I’ve only suddenly realized what I said in the telegram. What I said was: FATHER BURIED THIS MORNING ARRIVING HAMBURG MIDNIGHT TONIGHT. Ha-ha. Oh my God.

  (Their sympathy for his genuine anguish prevents them from laughing outright. But CLAIRE sniggers first – then ALICE – then they all collapse. And finally he joins them. Comments like ‘Arriving Hamburg midnight tonight’‚ ‘I thought he was sick’, ‘He said “I’m absolutely delighted, Mrs Moore”‚’ ‘Poor Father in Germany’. In the middle of this release UNCLE GEORGE enters right in his usual manner. ALICE sees him first. She looks at him – then makes a sudden decision. She rushes to EAMON.)

  ALICE: Do me a favour, Eamon.

  EAMON: What?

  ALICE: A big favour – please.

  EAMON: What is it?

  ALICE: Uncle George – let us take him.

  EAMON: To London?

  ALICE: Please, Eamon.

  EAMON: He wouldn’t come.

  ALICE: Let me try. Please.

  EAMON: Would he come?

  ALICE: (Calls) Uncle George!

  (He stops just as he is about to make his retreat. She goes to him.)

  ALICE: I want you to come to London with Eamon and me. You wouldn’t have to talk. You wouldn’t ever have to say a word. But you’d be great company for me, just being there. I wouldn’t be lonely if you were there with me.

  (ALICE reaches forward to catch his hand but withdraws again. Long pause. Then –)

  GEORGE: Haven’t been in London since the year nineteen and ten; to be precise the week Edward the Seventh died. Saw it all. That’s what I call a funeral.

  ALICE: Will you come? Please.

  (Short pause.)

  GEORGE: Another visit’s about due, I suppose. I’ll pack.

  (He marches off the way he came.)

  ALICE: Thank you, Uncle George – thank you. (Elated, to EAMON) He’s coming! (To all) He’s coming with us to London! Do you mind?

  EAMON: Where will he sleep?

  ALICE: On the divan – anywhere – he won’t mind – he never cared about his comfort. You’re sure you don’t mind?

  EAMON: He’ll be my keepsake.

  (WILLIE enters through the study.)

  WILLIE: Sorry I’m a bit late. Who needs a lift down to the bus?

  ALICE: Thanks, Willie. I suppose we should start moving.

  CASIMIR: Time enough yet, aren’t we?

  JUDITH: Anybody feel like something to eat?

  WILLIE: No time for eating now.

  JUDITH: (To EAMON) A cup of tea?

  EAMON: No thanks.

  JUDITH: A drink?

  EAMON: Nothing.

  ALICE: How long a delay have you in London before your Hamburg flight?

  CASIMIR: An hour and a half.

  ALICE: We’ll stay with you at the airport and eat there.

  JUDITH: (To WILLIE) Uncle George is going with Alice and Eamon.

  WILLIE: Going where?

  JUDITH: London.

  WILLIE: You’re joking me. Are you serious?

  JUDITH: Yes.

  WILLIE: Jaysus, he’ll fair keep London in chat.

  (They are all seated again: CLAIRE close to CASIMIR; WILLIE beside JUDITH; EAMON on the ground at Alice’s feet, his head resting against her leg; the three couples spread across the lawn. There is an unspoken wish to protract time, to postpone the final breaking up. CASIMIR picks up the cassette.)

  CASIMIR: What’ll it be?

  CLAIRE: Your pleasure.

  CASIMIR: My pleasure – right.

  CLAIRE: But not a test.

  CASIMIR: Not a test; no more tests; just my pleasure.

  (Pause.)

  WILLIE: They gave him a nice enough wee send off, didn’t they?

  JUDITH: Yes.

  WILLIE: I was up in court before him once – did I ever tell you that one?

  JUDITH: What was that?

  WILLIE: First car I ever had. No tax, no insurance, no licence, no brakes, no nothing – buck all except that the damn thing kind of went. Jaysus. And I mind I swore a pack of lies to him.

  JUDITH: Were you fined?

  WILLIE: Let me off with a caution! He must have believed me. No, he didn’t. Knew damn well I was a liar. He just pretended he believed me. Jaysus, he was a strange bird. How are you?

  JUDITH: Slight headache. It’s nothing.

  WILLIE: I thought so – I was watching you in the chapel. Here.

  JUDITH: What’s that?
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  WILLIE: Aspirin. Got them on the way up.

  JUDITH: Thanks. I’ll take them later.

  (Bedtime Waltz on the cassette.)

  WILLIE: I don’t want to hustle yous; but if you’re getting the 3.30 you’d need to start moving.

  (Nobody hears him.)

  CASIMIR: You’re too young to remember Mother singing that.

  CLAIRE: Am I?

  CASIMIR: Oh, yes; much too young.

  CLAIRE: I think I remember her – I’m not sure. You’ll come back again for my wedding, won’t you?

  CASIMIR: Wouldn’t miss it for all the world. Three months time, isn’t it?

  CLAIRE: I wish it were tomorrow. I would love it would be tomorrow.

  CASIMIR: Three months? Oh my goodness three months’ll fly – just fly. We’ll all be back again before you know. What’s three months? Three months is nothing, nothing, nothing.

  (Brief pause.)

  ALICE: What are you thinking?

  EAMON: That in a way it’s as difficult for me as it is for you.

  ALICE: What is?

  EAMON: Leaving; leaving for good. I know it’s your home. But in a sense it has always been my home, too, because of granny and then because of you.

  ALICE: I don’t know what I feel. Maybe a sense of release; of not being pursued; of the possibility of – (Short pause) – of ‘fulfilment’. No. Just emptiness. Perhaps maybe a new start. Yes, I’ll manage.

  EAMON: Because you’re of that tradition.

  ALICE: What tradition?

  EAMON: Of discipline; of self-discipline – residual aristocratic instincts.

  ALICE: I’m the alcoholic, remember.

  EAMON: So was Uncle George – once.

  ALICE: You and Judith always fight.

  EAMON: No, we don’t. When did you discover that?

  ALICE: I’ve always known it. And I think it’s because you love her. I think it’s because you think you love her; and that’s the same thing. No, it’s even more disturbing for you. And that’s why I’m not unhappy that this is all over – because love is possible only in certain contexts. And now that this is finished, you may become less unhappy in time.

  EAMON: Have we a context?

  ALICE: Let’s wait and see.

  WILLIE: Does nobody want to catch this bus?

  JUDITH: Don’t worry, Willie. They’ll make it.

  (CASIMIR has been humming with the cassette. Now he stops.)

  CASIMIR: What you must all do – what you must all do very soon – is come to Hamburg for a holiday! Helga and I have some wonderful friends you’ll enjoy meeting – novelists, poets, painters, musicians! – marvellous people! – and we’ll have a great reunion of the whole family! It will be like old times! Everybody’ll come next summer! Next summer in Hamburg!