Collected Plays and Teleplays (Irish Literature) (11 page)

BOOK: Collected Plays and Teleplays (Irish Literature)
11.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

KELLY:
(
Trying to cheer her up.
) O, now listen, woman, CHEER UP! (
He takes her hand again and looks at her entreatingly.
) Are you not glad I’m winning? Come on, now! Are you? Honest?

MARGARET:
(
Looking up.
) I am, I am glad. But I’m worried. I was thinking about things. I was talking to Father Healy today.

KELLY:
(
Impatiently.
) Now for God’s sake you’re not going to start again about this business of being a nun? You’re not going to be a nun and that’s all about it. You’re going to marry me. You’re not going into any convent, Margaret. I WON’T HAVE IT!

MARGARET:
Turning on him suspiciously.
) I believe you have drink taken again today.

KELLY:
(
Shocked.
) Margaret! Me? How can you say a thing like that?

MARGARET:
Well, you had a drink taken last night, and so had that Town Clerk.

KELLY:
(
Soothingly.
) Listen, Margaret, you’re a little bit unnerved by the worry of this election and I don’t blame you. You know in your heart I never touch it, Margaret. Don’t you believe me, Margaret?

MARGARET:
(
Putting her hand wearily to her head.
) O, I don’t know. I’m very worried. God forgive me for quarrelling with James. He has made a fool of himself at the elections. And I’m to blame for that. I was talking to Father Healy about people with late vocations. I’m sorry I didn’t do what I wanted to do years ago. I’m honestly thinking of going away. Away from all this bitterness and fighting. Nearly everybody in the town was drunk when they were voting. Father Healy was telling me all about it. Drink, drink, drink.

KELLY:
Listen, Margaret, don’t be talking like that. Public life is by no means perfect but please God we will change what is bad and shameful in it. And I said we, Margaret. You and I. Together we can strike a blow for the old land. Together we can do our small part to right the wrongs that have come down through seven centuries of alien domination and godless misrule. What do you say, Margaret?

MARGARET:
(
Deflating him.
) I can’t get it out of my head that you take drink.

KELLY:
Margaret!

MARGARET:
Drink is what killed my husband.

KELLY:
(
Earnestly.
) I tell you, Margaret, I never touch it. I never touch it. (
He pauses and bursts out.
) My God, Margaret, why do you keep on saying that?

MARGARET:
(
Sadly, in a preoccupied way.
) Drink is what killed my husband. And my father. I would never marry a man that took drink. Never!

KELLY:
(
Going over solicitously and sitting down beside her again.
) Listen to me, now, Margaret. We won’t go into the poor weak souls who were tortured and destroyed in the past by indulgence in bacchanalian vice. It is a branch of the national character which we must reform—

MARGARET:
And why must you go back to the past? Look at this town today. Look at that Town Clerk. He’s the cheekiest little man in this town and he’s always half drunk. He is always full of stout.

KELLY:
(
Impatiently.
) I know, Margaret, I know, but can we never talk of anything else? Listen, girl, I’m nearly certain to be elected. When I am and when I have taken my seat in the parliament of Ireland, can’t the two of us get married and go up and live above in Dublin!

MARGARET:
(
Still despondent.
) O, I don’t know what to say. But I don’t know what I should do. I always wanted to enter religion. I don’t like a lot of things I see in the world around me——

KELLY:
What things?

MARGARET:
O, a lot of things. Everything. I don’t like the way people behave. It’s not Christian. Look at the terrible things James, my own brother, said about you last Sunday. People are laughing at me—I know they are. I feel I am to blame for a lot of the trouble. And you are to blame too. We’re all to blame. How could James say what he said on Sunday if he was a proper Christian?

KELLY:
(
Indulgently.
) Ah, Margaret, it’s all poor old human nature. Poor sinful broken-down human nature. Bad as it is at the best of times, it goes to hell altogether when there’s an election in the air.

MARGARET:
And how could you talk the way you did a moment ago about drink when you own a public-house yourself?

KELLY:
(
Shocked and hurt.
) Margaret, that isn’t true. That isn’t true at all. I don’t own a public-house. It’s only an off-licence.

MARGARET:
I don’t care what it’s called.

KELLY:
(
Emphatically.
) And it’s only a six-day licence.

MARGARET:
Hannah was saying that she sees a lot of people going into your shop after the last Mass on Sunday, even though you’re closed.

KELLY:
Ah, they would be the language workers—the Gaelic League. I give them a room free of charge for their classes, you know. I do what I can to encourage the old tongue.

MARGARET:
But surely people wouldn’t be learning Irish at that hour on a Sunday. I always thought it’s at night people learn Irish.

KELLY:
Yes, yes, Margaret, but there is such a thing as a committee meeting, there is such a thing as a committee of ways and means. The real spade work has to be done behind closed door. O, well I know it—many’s a committee I served on.

MARGARET:
(
Fiercely.
) O, I don’t care.

KELLY:
(
Impatiently.
) Listen, Margaret. (
He takes her hand ingratiatingly.
) One simple question now. The same one I asked before. Margaret, will you marry me? Yes or no? After I get my seat, of course. Will you marry me? Will you?

(
The telephone rings violently.
KELLY
,
startled, jumps up and without a word takes up the receiver; just when he has begun listening he remembers to say ‘Excuse me’ to
MARGARET
,
who looks very disconcerted by his abrupt departure from her.
)

KELLY:
(
Excitedly.
) Hullo? Yes? Yes. What? (
There is a long pause.
) WHAT? Yes. YES. I AM? Are you certain? Good! Great! GREAT! Thanks, thanks, thanks.

(
He bangs down the receiver and rushes exuberantly about the room, rubbing his hands gleefully; he is beside himself with delight.
)

KELLY:
I’m home, Margaret. I’m home and dried. The votes aren’t all counted but he can’t beat me now no matter what happens! Cooper’s second and your brother’s last! Master James is beaten, beaten to the ropes. HE’S BEATEN! And I’m in—I’m elected. I’m in!

MARGARET:
(
Rising.
) Are you sure?

KELLY:
Certain. CERTAIN! Sure I just got it on the wire.

(
The front door bell rings.
)

MARGARET:
O, I don’t know what to say to you! I’m glad.

(
She rushes over to him impetuously; he catches her in a sort of halfembrace but this is broken almost instantly as
HANNAH
bustles in from left to answer the door bell. She exits left back, taking no notice of
KELLY
and
MARGARET
.
Almost at once, the confused, thick babel of
SHAWN KILSHAUGHRAUN
and the
TOWN CLERK
is heard from without. In a second they march in
,
SHAWN
leading the way. The
TOWN CLERK
is threequarters drunk but has long experience in disguising the fact.
SHAWN
is not the type that can be changed by drink and for all anybody knows may be completely drunk. His hand is already outstretched on the way in preparation for a handclasp of congratulation.
MARGARET
has begun to retreat again from
KELLY
and sits down again on the sofa.
)

KELLY:
(
Beaming.
) Well, well, well.

TOWN CLERK:
(
Only half in through door.
) Good evenin’, one and all. And good evenin’ yourself, Mrs. Crockett.

SHAWN:
Ah, Chairman, Chairman, may you long live to wear the great, grand, fine honour that has been saddled on you this day by the people of this grand old historic country. May you live for long, long years to enjoy—and re-enjoy—every bit of it—every little bitteen of it, avic.

TOWN CLERK:
(
Coming forward to take
KELLY’S
hand away from
SHAWN
.) Congratulations, Chairman. Begob, you’re the right boyo. Sure I always knew you were a potential T.D.—you were threatened with it since the cradle, man.

KELLY:
(
Genially.
) Thank you, gentlemen, thank you. Thank you very much.

TOWN CLERK:
Yerrah, not at all.

KELLY:
This much I will say. Never has a public man been the fortunate recipient of more whole-hearted co-operation and assistance from true friends than I was on the occasion of this great election. (
He turns to
MARGARET
.) Margaret, I owe more than I can ever repay to these two gentlemen——

SHAWN:
(
Grinning broadly.
) I do, I do.

(
He makes his way heavily to the armchair near fire and sits.
KELLY
runs over again to
MARGARET
and sits down beside her solicitously.
)

KELLY:
Margaret, these are the two best friends I have. Both of us should be grateful to them.

MARGARET:
Yes, I know. They worked very hard.

TOWN CLERK:
Yerrah now, don’t be talkin’ to me, shure it’s only part of the day’s work. ‘Tisn’t worth a fiddler’s curse.

MARGARET:
And what about your other friend? The man that wears the bowler hat. The rate collector.

KELLY:
(
Not so pleased.
) O, him?

SHAWN:
I do, I do. Shure he worked like a steam-injun and he got hundreds of pounds from nowhere, wherever the devil he collected it.

KELLY:
Yes. He also showed himself a good friend.

TOWN CLERK:
(
Sotto voce.
) An’ why wouldn’t he, after been lurried into a job.

(
SHAWN
has genially lowered himself into a chair and begun the long operation of preparing his pipe. The
TOWN CLERK
wanders to a backward position where he is not visible to the two on the sofa, takes a halfpint from his hip pocket and takes an enormous slug.
)

SHAWN:
I do, I do. I congratulate you again, Chairman, but may the Lord comfort you and give you strength to bear the sad . . . terrible . . . mortifying . . . excruciating . . . fierce . . . trials and tribulations that you will meet with above in the Dail. Shure ‘tis like goin’ to bed with ten crocodiles—and without your boots on you itself.

KELLY:
(
Smiling.
) Ah, well, please God we will try, Shawn——

(
At this point the
TOWN CLERK
has taken his enormous slug of whiskey and gives an involuntary gasp or grunt that is clearly heard.
)

KELLY:
(
Turning in surprise.
) What——?

TOWN CLERK:
(
Covering up hastily.
) I was only clearin’ me throat, Chairman. These cigarettes has me destroyed.

(
MARGARET
wheels round and gets up, outraged by this noise. She moves back right, colossally irritated.
KELLY
shows concern.
)

KELLY:
What’s the matter, Margaret?

MARGARET:
O, nothing. Nothing at all.

SHAWN:
Shure aren’t we all worn away with the excitement of this wild . . . mad . . . ferocious . . . exciting day.

MARGARET:
(
Testily, facing them all generally.
) I think it’s yourselves you’re all thinking about all the time, not other people. You don’t care what happens as long as you get your own way——

KELLY:
Margaret, what’s the matter?

MARGARET:
It’s true. You’re like three peacocks here, only that one of the peacocks has drink taken.

TOWN CLERK:
(
Who has become a bit hilarious after the last slug.
) That’s a bit of a crack at you, Chairman.

KELLY:
(
Very seriously.
) Margaret, please——

MARGARET:
All the talk about Ireland and the fine promises we heard for the last month are forgotten now. And all the hard un-Christian things that were said—it doesn’t matter about them, we’re all very nice and happy and good-humoured now because we’ve won.

KELLY:
(
Quietly.
) Margaret, are you not being a little bit unfair? It is perhaps true that in politics there is much that is unpleasant. But speaking for myself (
his voice rises as he unconsciously climbs into his plane of ranting
) speaking for myself, this much I will say. As an accredited deputy in the national parliament I am determined to serve my country according to my lights and to the utmost of the talents which God has given me. I am determined to strike blow after blow against the vested interest. I am determined to break—to smash—backstairs jobbery in high places. I am determined to expose—to drag into the inexorable light of day—every knave, time-server, sycophant and party camp-follower. I will meet them all and fight them. I will declare war on the Masons and the Knights. I will challenge the cheat and the money-changer——

MARGARET:
(
In a loud, shrill, half-hysterical voice.
) O, stop it. STOP IT! (
She begins to move restlessly about the room.
) I am sick—absolutely sick—of that sort of talk. I have listened to nothing else for a whole month. I simple won’t stand for any more of that. (
She turns on
KELLY
fiercely.
) Do you hear me, I won’t stand it! (
She sits on divan.
)

BOOK: Collected Plays and Teleplays (Irish Literature)
11.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

A Wreath Of Roses by Elizabeth Taylor
The Nethergrim by Jobin, Matthew
Vinyl Cafe Unplugged by Stuart McLean
Bleak History by John Shirley
(1988) The Golden Room by Irving Wallace
Silver Bracelets by Knight, Charisma
Nightmare by Robin Parrish