Produced by Joseph R. Hauser, Turgut Dincer and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. Music
transcribed by Brian Foley using LilyPond.
_By Lady Gregory_
Irish Folk-History Plays
First Series: The Tragedies
Grania. Kincora. Dervorgilla
Second Series: The Tragic Comedies
The Canavans. The White Cockade. The Deliverer
New Comedies
The Bogie Men. The Full Moon. Coats. Damer's
Gold. McDonough's Wife
Our Irish Theatre
A Chapter of Autobiography
Seven Short Plays
Spreading the News. Hyacinth Halvey. The Rising
of the Moon. The Jackdaw. The Workhouse Ward.
The Travelling Man. The Gaol Gate
The Golden Apple
A Kiltartan Play for Children
Seven Short Plays
By
Lady Gregory
G. P. Putnam's Sons
New York and London
The Knickerbocker Press
1916
COPYRIGHT, 1903, by LADY AUGUSTA GREGORY
COPYRIGHT, 1904, by LADY GREGORY
COPYRIGHT, 1905, by LADY GREGORY
COPYRIGHT, 1906, by LADY GREGORY
COPYRIGHT, 1909, by LADY GREGORY
These plays have been copyrighted and published simultaneously in the
United States and Great Britain.
All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign
languages.
All acting rights, both professional and amateur, are reserved in the
United States, Great Britain, and all countries of the Copyright
Union, by the author. Performances forbidden and right of presentation
reserved.
Application for the right of performing these plays or reading them in
public should be made to Samuel French, 28 West 38th St., New York
City, or 26 South Hampton St., Strand, London.
Second Impression
The Knickerbocker Press, New York
DEDICATION
_To you, W. B. YEATS, good praiser, wholesome dispraiser, heavy-handed
judge, open-handed helper of us all, I offer a play of my plays for
every night of the week, because you like them, and because you have
taught me my trade._
AUGUSTA GREGORY
_Abbey Theatre,
May 1, 1909._
CONTENTS
PAGE
SPREADING THE NEWS 1
HYACINTH HALVEY 29
THE RISING OF THE MOON 75
THE JACKDAW 93
THE WORKHOUSE WARD 137
THE TRAVELLING MAN 155
THE GAOL GATE 173
MUSIC FOR THE SONGS IN THE PLAYS 189
NOTES, &C. 196
SPREADING THE NEWS
PERSONS
_Bartley Fallon._
_Mrs. Fallon._
_Jack Smith._
_Shawn Early._
_Tim Casey._
_James Ryan._
_Mrs. Tarpey._
_Mrs. Tully._
_A Policeman_ (JO MULDOON).
_A Removable Magistrate._
SPREADING THE NEWS
_Scene: The outskirts of a Fair. An Apple Stall, Mrs. Tarpey
sitting at it. Magistrate and Policeman enter._
_Magistrate_: So that is the Fair Green. Cattle and sheep and mud. No
system. What a repulsive sight!
_Policeman_: That is so, indeed.
_Magistrate_: I suppose there is a good deal of disorder in this
place?
_Policeman_: There is.
_Magistrate_: Common assault?
_Policeman_: It's common enough.
_Magistrate_: Agrarian crime, no doubt?
_Policeman_: That is so.
_Magistrate_: Boycotting? Maiming of cattle? Firing into houses?
_Policeman_: There was one time, and there might be again.
_Magistrate_: That is bad. Does it go any farther than that?
_Policeman_: Far enough, indeed.
_Magistrate:_ Homicide, then! This district has been shamefully
neglected! I will change all that. When I was in the Andaman Islands,
my system never failed. Yes, yes, I will change all that. What has
that woman on her stall?
_Policeman:_ Apples mostly--and sweets.
_Magistrate:_ Just see if there are any unlicensed goods
underneath--spirits or the like. We had evasions of the salt tax in the
Andaman Islands.
_Policeman:_ (_Sniffing cautiously and upsetting a heap of apples._) I
see no spirits here--or salt.
_Magistrate:_ (_To Mrs. Tarpey._) Do you know this town well, my good
woman?
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ (_Holding out some apples._) A penny the half-dozen,
your honour.
_Policeman:_ (_Shouting._) The gentleman is asking do you know the
town! He's the new magistrate!
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ (_Rising and ducking._) Do I know the town? I do, to be
sure.
_Magistrate:_ (_Shouting._) What is its chief business?
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ Business, is it? What business would the people here
have but to be minding one another's business?
_Magistrate:_ I mean what trade have they?
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ Not a trade. No trade at all but to be talking.
_Magistrate:_ I shall learn nothing here.
(_James Ryan comes in, pipe in mouth. Seeing Magistrate he
retreats quickly, taking pipe from mouth._)
_Magistrate:_ The smoke from that man's pipe had a greenish look; he
may be growing unlicensed tobacco at home. I wish I had brought my
telescope to this district. Come to the post-office, I will telegraph
for it. I found it very useful in the Andaman Islands.
(_Magistrate and Policeman go out left._)
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ Bad luck to Jo Muldoon, knocking my apples this way and
that way. (_Begins arranging them._) Showing off he was to the new
magistrate.
(_Enter Bartley Fallon and Mrs. Fallon._)
_Bartley:_ Indeed it's a poor country and a scarce country to be
living in. But I'm thinking if I went to America it's long ago the day
I'd be dead!
_Mrs. Fallon:_ So you might, indeed.
(_She puts her basket on a barrel and begins putting parcels in
it, taking them from under her cloak._)
_Bartley:_ And it's a great expense for a poor man to be buried in
America.
_Mrs. Fallon:_ Never fear, Bartley Fallon, but I'll give you a good
burying the day you'll die.
_Bartley:_ Maybe it's yourself will be buried in the graveyard of
Cloonmara before me, Mary Fallon, and I myself that will be dying
unbeknownst some night, and no one a-near me. And the cat itself may be
gone straying through the country, and the mice squealing over the
quilt.
_Mrs. Fallon:_ Leave off talking of dying. It might be twenty years
you'll be living yet.
_Bartley:_ (_With a deep sigh._) I'm thinking if I'll be living at the
end of twenty years, it's a very old man I'll be then!
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ (_Turns and sees them._) Good morrow, Bartley Fallon;
good morrow, Mrs. Fallon. Well, Bartley, you'll find no cause for
complaining to-day; they are all saying it was a good fair.
_Bartley:_ (_Raising his voice._) It was not a good fair, Mrs. Tarpey.
It was a scattered sort of a fair. If we didn't expect more, we got
less. That's the way with me always; whatever I have to sell goes down
and whatever I have to buy goes up. If there's ever any misfortune
coming to this world, it's on myself it pitches, like a flock of crows
on seed potatoes.
_Mrs. Fallon:_ Leave off talking of misfortunes, and listen to Jack
Smith that is coming the way, and he singing.
(_Voice of Jack Smith heard singing:_)
I thought, my first love,
There'd be but one house between you and me,
And I thought I would find
Yourself coaxing my child on your knee.
Over the tide
I would leap with the leap of a swan,
Till I came to the side
Of the wife of the Red-haired man!
(_Jack Smith comes in; he is a red-haired man, and is carrying
a hayfork._)
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ That should be a good song if I had my hearing.
_Mrs. Fallon:_ (_Shouting._) It's "The Red-haired Man's Wife."
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ I know it well. That's the song that has a skin on it!
(_She turns her back to them and goes on arranging her
apples._)
_Mrs. Fallon:_ Where's herself, Jack Smith?
_Jack Smith:_ She was delayed with her washing; bleaching the clothes
on the hedge she is, and she daren't leave them, with all the tinkers
that do be passing to the fair. It isn't to the fair I came myself,
but up to the Five Acre Meadow I'm going, where I have a contract for
the hay. We'll get a share of it into tramps to-day. (_He lays down
hayfork and lights his pipe._)
_Bartley:_ You will not get it into tramps to-day. The rain will be
down on it by evening, and on myself too. It's seldom I ever started
on a journey but the rain would come down on me before I'd find any
place of shelter.
_Jack Smith:_ If it didn't itself, Bartley, it is my belief you would
carry a leaky pail on your head in place of a hat, the way you'd not
be without some cause of complaining.
(_A voice heard, "Go on, now, go on out o' that. Go on I
say."_)
_Jack Smith:_ Look at that young mare of Pat Ryan's that is backing
into Shaughnessy's bullocks with the dint of the crowd! Don't be
daunted, Pat, I'll give you a hand with her.
(_He goes out, leaving his hayfork._)
_Mrs. Fallon:_ It's time for ourselves to be going home. I have all I
bought put in the basket. Look at there, Jack Smith's hayfork he left
after him! He'll be wanting it. (_Calls._) Jack Smith! Jack
Smith!--He's gone through the crowd--hurry after him, Bartley, he'll be
wanting it.
_Bartley:_ I'll do that. This is no safe place to be leaving it. (_He
takes up fork awkwardly and upsets the basket._) Look at that now! If
there is any basket in the fair upset, it must be our own basket! (_He
goes out to right._)
_Mrs. Fallon:_ Get out of that! It is your own fault, it is. Talk of
misfortunes and misfortunes will come. Glory be! Look at my new
egg-cups rolling in every part--and my two pound of sugar with the
paper broke----
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ (_Turning from stall._) God help us, Mrs. Fallon, what
happened to your basket?
_Mrs. Fallon:_ It's himself that knocked it down, bad manners to him.
(_Putting things up._) My grand sugar that's destroyed, and he'll not
drink his tea without it. I had best go back to the shop for more,
much good may it do him!
(_Enter Tim Casey._)
_Tim Casey:_ Where is Bartley Fallon, Mrs. Fallon? I want a word with
him before he'll leave the fair. I was afraid he might have gone home
by this, for he's a temperate man.
_Mrs. Fallon:_ I wish he did go home! It'd be best for me if he went
home straight from the fair green, or if he never came with me at all!
Where is he, is it? He's gone up the road (_jerks elbow_) following
Jack Smith with a hayfork.
(_She goes out to left._)
_Tim Casey:_ Following Jack Smith with a hayfork! Did ever any one
hear the like of that. (_Shouts._) Did you hear that news, Mrs.
Tarpey?
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ I heard no news at all.
_Tim Casey:_ Some dispute I suppose it was that rose between Jack
Smith and Bartley Fallon, and it seems Jack made off, and Bartley is
following him with a hayfork!
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ Is he now? Well, that was quick work! It's not ten
minutes since the two of them were here, Bartley going home and Jack
going to the Five Acre Meadow; and I had my apples to settle up, that
Jo Muldoon of the police had scattered, and when I looked round again
Jack Smith was gone, and Bartley Fallon was gone, and Mrs. Fallon's
basket upset, and all in it strewed upon the ground--the tea here--the
two pound of sugar there--the egg-cups there--Look, now, what a great
hardship the deafness puts upon me, that I didn't hear the
commencement of the fight! Wait till I tell James Ryan that I see
below; he is a neighbour of Bartley's, it would be a pity if he
wouldn't hear the news!
(_She goes out. Enter Shawn Early and Mrs. Tully._)
_Tim Casey:_ Listen, Shawn Early! Listen, Mrs. Tully, to the news!
Jack Smith and Bartley Fallon had a falling out, and Jack knocked Mrs.
Fallon's basket into the road, and Bartley made an attack on him with
a hayfork, and away with Jack, and Bartley after him. Look at the
sugar here yet on the road!
_Shawn Early:_ Do you tell me so? Well, that's a queer thing, and
Bartley Fallon so quiet a man!
_Mrs. Tully:_ I wouldn't wonder at all. I would never think well of a
man that would have that sort of a mouldering look. It's likely he has
overtaken Jack by this.
(_Enter James Ryan and Mrs. Tarpey._)
_James Ryan:_ That is great news Mrs. Tarpey was telling me! I suppose
that's what brought the police and the magistrate up this way. I was
wondering to see them in it a while ago.
_Shawn Early:_ The police after them? Bartley Fallon must have injured
Jack so. They wouldn't meddle in a fight that was only for show!
_Mrs. Tully:_ Why wouldn't he injure him? There was many a man killed
with no more of a weapon than a hayfork.
_James Ryan:_ Wait till I run north as far as Kelly's bar to spread
the news! (_He goes out._)
_Tim Casey:_ I'll go tell Jack Smith's first cousin that is standing
there south of the church after selling his lambs. (_Goes out._)
_Mrs. Tully:_ I'll go telling a few of the neighbours I see beyond to
the west. (_Goes out._)
_Shawn Early:_ I'll give word of it beyond at the east of the green.
(_Is going out when Mrs. Tarpey seizes hold of him._)
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ Stop a minute, Shawn Early, and tell me did you see red
Jack Smith's wife, Kitty Keary, in any place?
_Shawn Early:_ I did. At her own house she was, drying clothes on the
hedge as I passed.
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ What did you say she was doing?
_Shawn Early:_ (_Breaking away._) Laying out a sheet on the hedge.
(_He goes._)
_Mrs. Tarpey_: Laying out a sheet for the dead! The Lord have mercy
on us! Jack Smith dead, and his wife laying out a sheet for his
burying! (_Calls out._) Why didn't you tell me that before, Shawn
Early? Isn't the deafness the great hardship? Half the world might be
dead without me knowing of it or getting word of it at all! (_She sits
down and rocks herself._) O my poor Jack Smith! To be going to his
work so nice and so hearty, and to be left stretched on the ground in
the full light of the day!
(_Enter Tim Casey._)
_Tim Casey:_ What is it, Mrs. Tarpey? What happened since?
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ O my poor Jack Smith!
_Tim Casey:_ Did Bartley overtake him?
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ O the poor man!
_Tim Casey:_ Is it killed he is?
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ Stretched in the Five Acre Meadow!
_Tim Casey:_ The Lord have mercy on us! Is that a fact?
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ Without the rites of the Church or a ha'porth!
_Tim Casey:_ Who was telling you?
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ And the wife laying out a sheet for his corpse. (_Sits
up and wipes her eyes._) I suppose they'll wake him the same as
another?
(_Enter Mrs. Tully, Shawn Early, and James Ryan._)
_Mrs. Tully:_ There is great talk about this work in every quarter of
the fair.
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ Ochone! cold and dead. And myself maybe the last he was
speaking to!
_James Ryan:_ The Lord save us! Is it dead he is?
_Tim Casey:_ Dead surely, and the wife getting provision for the wake.
_Shawn Early:_ Well, now, hadn't Bartley Fallon great venom in him?
_Mrs. Tully:_ You may be sure he had some cause. Why would he have
made an end of him if he had not? (_To Mrs. Tarpey, raising her
voice._) What was it rose the dispute at all, Mrs. Tarpey?
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ Not a one of me knows. The last I saw of them, Jack
Smith was standing there, and Bartley Fallon was standing there, quiet
and easy, and he listening to "The Red-haired Man's Wife."
_Mrs. Tully:_ Do you hear that, Tim Casey? Do you hear that, Shawn
Early and James Ryan? Bartley Fallon was here this morning listening
to red Jack Smith's wife, Kitty Keary that was! Listening to her and
whispering with her! It was she started the fight so!
_Shawn Early:_ She must have followed him from her own house. It is
likely some person roused him.
_Tim Casey:_ I never knew, before, Bartley Fallon was great with Jack
Smith's wife.
_Mrs. Tully:_ How would you know it? Sure it's not in the streets they
would be calling it. If Mrs. Fallon didn't know of it, and if I that
have the next house to them didn't know of it, and if Jack Smith
himself didn't know of it, it is not likely you would know of it, Tim
Casey.
_Shawn Early:_ Let Bartley Fallon take charge of her from this out so,
and let him provide for her. It is little pity she will get from any
person in this parish.
_Tim Casey:_ How can he take charge of her? Sure he has a wife of his
own. Sure you don't think he'd turn souper and marry her in a
Protestant church?
_James Ryan:_ It would be easy for him to marry her if he brought her
to America.
_Shawn Early:_ With or without Kitty Keary, believe me it is for
America he's making at this minute. I saw the new magistrate and Jo
Muldoon of the police going into the post-office as I came up--there
was hurry on them--you may be sure it was to telegraph they went, the
way he'll be stopped in the docks at Queenstown!
_Mrs. Tully:_ It's likely Kitty Keary is gone with him, and not
minding a sheet or a wake at all. The poor man, to be deserted by his
own wife, and the breath hardly gone out yet from his body that is
lying bloody in the field!
(_Enter Mrs. Fallon._)
_Mrs. Fallon:_ What is it the whole of the town is talking about? And
what is it you yourselves are talking about? Is it about my man
Bartley Fallon you are talking? Is it lies about him you are telling,
saying that he went killing Jack Smith? My grief that ever he came
into this place at all!
_James Ryan:_ Be easy now, Mrs. Fallon. Sure there is no one at all in
the whole fair but is sorry for you!
_Mrs. Fallon:_ Sorry for me, is it? Why would any one be sorry for me?
Let you be sorry for yourselves, and that there may be shame on you
for ever and at the day of judgment, for the words you are saying and
the lies you are telling to take away the character of my poor man,
and to take the good name off of him, and to drive him to destruction!
That is what you are doing!
_Shawn Early:_ Take comfort now, Mrs. Fallon. The police are not so
smart as they think. Sure he might give them the slip yet, the same as
Lynchehaun.
_Mrs. Tully:_ If they do get him, and if they do put a rope around his
neck, there is no one can say he does not deserve it!
_Mrs. Fallon:_ Is that what you are saying, Bridget Tully, and is that
what you think? I tell you it's too much talk you have, making
yourself out to be such a great one, and to be running down every
respectable person! A rope, is it? It isn't much of a rope was needed
to tie up your own furniture the day you came into Martin Tully's
house, and you never bringing as much as a blanket, or a penny, or a
suit of clothes with you and I myself bringing seventy pounds and two
feather beds. And now you are stiffer than a woman would have a
hundred pounds! It is too much talk the whole of you have. A rope is
it? I tell you the whole of this town is full of liars and schemers
that would hang you up for half a glass of whiskey. (_Turning to go._)
People they are you wouldn't believe as much as daylight from without
you'd get up to have a look at it yourself. Killing Jack Smith indeed!
Where are you at all, Bartley, till I bring you out of this? My nice
quiet little man! My decent comrade! He that is as kind and as
harmless as an innocent beast of the field! He'll be doing no harm at
all if he'll shed the blood of some of you after this day's work! That
much would be no harm at all. (_Calls out._) Bartley! Bartley Fallon!
Where are you? (_Going out._) Did any one see Bartley Fallon?
(_All turn to look after her._)
_James Ryan:_ It is hard for her to believe any such a thing, God help
her!
(_Enter Bartley Fallon from right, carrying hayfork._)
_Bartley:_ It is what I often said to myself, if there is ever any
misfortune coming to this world it is on myself it is sure to come!
(_All turn round and face him._)
_Bartley:_ To be going about with this fork and to find no one to take
it, and no place to leave it down, and I wanting to be gone out of
this--Is that you, Shawn Early? (_Holds out fork._) It's well I met
you. You have no call to be leaving the fair for a while the way I
have, and how can I go till I'm rid of this fork? Will you take it and
keep it until such time as Jack Smith----
_Shawn Early:_ (_Backing._) I will not take it, Bartley Fallon, I'm
very thankful to you!
_Bartley:_ (_Turning to apple stall._) Look at it now, Mrs. Tarpey, it
was here I got it; let me thrust it in under the stall. It will lie
there safe enough, and no one will take notice of it until such time
as Jack Smith----
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ Take your fork out of that! Is it to put trouble on me
and to destroy me you want? Putting it there for the police to be
rooting it out maybe. (_Thrusts him back._)
_Bartley:_ That is a very unneighbourly thing for you to do, Mrs.
Tarpey. Hadn't I enough care on me with that fork before this, running
up and down with it like the swinging of a clock, and afeard to lay it
down in any place! I wish I never touched it or meddled with it at
all!
_James Ryan:_ It is a pity, indeed, you ever did.
_Bartley:_ Will you yourself take it, James Ryan? You were always a
neighbourly man.
_James Ryan:_ (_Backing._) There is many a thing I would do for you,
Bartley Fallon, but I won't do that!
_Shawn Early:_ I tell you there is no man will give you any help or
any encouragement for this day's work. If it was something agrarian
now----
_Bartley:_ If no one at all will take it, maybe it's best to give it
up to the police.
_Tim Casey:_ There'd be a welcome for it with them surely!
(_Laughter._)
_Mrs. Tully:_ And it is to the police Kitty Keary herself will be
brought.
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ (_Rocking to and fro._) I wonder now who will take the
expense of the wake for poor Jack Smith?
_Bartley:_ The wake for Jack Smith!
_Tim Casey:_ Why wouldn't he get a wake as well as another? Would you
begrudge him that much?
_Bartley:_ Red Jack Smith dead! Who was telling you?
_Shawn Early:_ The whole town knows of it by this.
_Bartley:_ Do they say what way did he die?
_James Ryan:_ You don't know that yourself, I suppose, Bartley Fallon?
You don't know he was followed and that he was laid dead with the stab
of a hayfork?
_Bartley:_ The stab of a hayfork!
_Shawn Early:_ You don't know, I suppose, that the body was found in
the Five Acre Meadow?
_Bartley:_ The Five Acre Meadow!
_Tim Casey:_ It is likely you don't know that the police are after the
man that did it?
_Bartley:_ The man that did it!
_Mrs. Tully:_ You don't know, maybe, that he was made away with for
the sake of Kitty Keary, his wife?
_Bartley:_ Kitty Keary, his wife!
(_Sits down bewildered._)
_Mrs. Tully:_ And what have you to say now, Bartley Fallon?
_Bartley:_ (_Crossing himself._) I to bring that fork here, and to
find that news before me! It is much if I can ever stir from this
place at all, or reach as far as the road!
_Tim Casey:_ Look, boys, at the new magistrate, and Jo Muldoon along
with him! It's best for us to quit this.
_Shawn Early:_ That is so. It is best not to be mixed in this business
at all.
_James Ryan:_ Bad as he is, I wouldn't like to be an informer against
any man.
(_All hurry away except Mrs. Tarpey, who remains behind her
stall. Enter magistrate and policeman._)
_Magistrate:_ I knew the district was in a bad state, but I did not
expect to be confronted with a murder at the first fair I came to.
_Policeman:_ I am sure you did not, indeed.
_Magistrate:_ It was well I had not gone home. I caught a few words
here and there that roused my suspicions.
_Policeman:_ So they would, too.
_Magistrate:_ You heard the same story from everyone you asked?
_Policeman:_ The same story--or if it was not altogether the same,
anyway it was no less than the first story.
_Magistrate:_ What is that man doing? He is sitting alone with a
hayfork. He has a guilty look. The murder was done with a hayfork!
_Policeman:_ (_In a whisper._) That's the very man they say did the
act; Bartley Fallon himself!
_Magistrate:_ He must have found escape difficult--he is trying to
brazen it out. A convict in the Andaman Islands tried the same game,
but he could not escape my system! Stand aside--Don't go far--have the
handcuffs ready. (_He walks up to Bartley, folds his arms, and stands
before him._) Here, my man, do you know anything of John Smith?
_Bartley:_ Of John Smith! Who is he, now?
_Policeman:_ Jack Smith, sir--Red Jack Smith!
_Magistrate:_ (_Coming a step nearer and tapping him on the
shoulder._) Where is Jack Smith?
_Bartley:_ (_With a deep sigh, and shaking his head slowly._) Where is
he, indeed?
_Magistrate:_ What have you to tell?
_Bartley:_ It is where he was this morning, standing in this spot,
singing his share of songs--no, but lighting his pipe--scraping a match
on the sole of his shoe----
_Magistrate:_ I ask you, for the third time, where is he?
_Bartley:_ I wouldn't like to say that. It is a great mystery, and it
is hard to say of any man, did he earn hatred or love.
_Magistrate:_ Tell me all you know.
_Bartley:_ All that I know--Well, there are the three estates; there is
Limbo, and there is Purgatory, and there is----
_Magistrate:_ Nonsense! This is trifling! Get to the point.
_Bartley:_ Maybe you don't hold with the clergy so? That is the
teaching of the clergy. Maybe you hold with the old people. It is what
they do be saying, that the shadow goes wandering, and the soul is
tired, and the body is taking a rest--The shadow! (_Starts up._) I was
nearly sure I saw Jack Smith not ten minutes ago at the corner of the
forge, and I lost him again--Was it his ghost I saw, do you think?
_Magistrate:_ (_To policeman._) Conscience-struck! He will confess all
now!
_Bartley:_ His ghost to come before me! It is likely it was on account
of the fork! I to have it and he to have no way to defend himself the
time he met with his death!
_Magistrate:_ (_To policeman._) I must note down his words. (_Takes
out notebook._) (_To Bartley:_) I warn you that your words are being
noted.
_Bartley:_ If I had ha' run faster in the beginning, this terror would
not be on me at the latter end! Maybe he will cast it up against me at
the day of judgment--I wouldn't wonder at all at that.
_Magistrate:_ (_Writing._) At the day of judgment----
_Bartley:_ It was soon for his ghost to appear to me--is it coming
after me always by day it will be, and stripping the clothes off in
the night time?--I wouldn't wonder at all at that, being as I am an
unfortunate man!
_Magistrate:_ (_Sternly._) Tell me this truly. What was the motive of
this crime?
_Bartley:_ The motive, is it?
_Magistrate:_ Yes; the motive; the cause.
_Bartley:_ I'd sooner not say that.
_Magistrate:_ You had better tell me truly. Was it money?
_Bartley:_ Not at all! What did poor Jack Smith ever have in his
pockets unless it might be his hands that would be in them?
_Magistrate:_ Any dispute about land?
_Bartley:_ (_Indignantly._) Not at all! He never was a grabber or
grabbed from any one!
_Magistrate:_ You will find it better for you if you tell me at once.
_Bartley:_ I tell you I wouldn't for the whole world wish to say what
it was--it is a thing I would not like to be talking about.
_Magistrate:_ There is no use in hiding it. It will be discovered in
the end.
_Bartley:_ Well, I suppose it will, seeing that mostly everybody knows
it before. Whisper here now. I will tell no lie; where would be the
use? (_Puts his hand to his mouth, and Magistrate stoops._) Don't be
putting the blame on the parish, for such a thing was never done in
the parish before--it was done for the sake of Kitty Keary, Jack
Smith's wife.
_Magistrate:_ (_To policeman._) Put on the handcuffs. We have been
saved some trouble. I knew he would confess if taken in the right way.
(_Policeman puts on handcuffs_.)
_Bartley:_ Handcuffs now! Glory be! I always said, if there was ever
any misfortune coming to this place it was on myself it would fall. I
to be in handcuffs! There's no wonder at all in that.
(_Enter Mrs. Fallon, followed by the rest. She is looking back
at them as she speaks._)
_Mrs. Fallon:_ Telling lies the whole of the people of this town are;
telling lies, telling lies as fast as a dog will trot! Speaking
against my poor respectable man! Saying he made an end of Jack Smith!
My decent comrade! There is no better man and no kinder man in the
whole of the five parishes! It's little annoyance he ever gave to any
one! (_Turns and sees him._) What in the earthly world do I see before
me? Bartley Fallon in charge of the police! Handcuffs on him! O
Bartley, what did you do at all at all?
_Bartley:_ O Mary, there has a great misfortune come upon me! It is
what I always said, that if there is ever any misfortune----
_Mrs. Fallon:_ What did he do at all, or is it bewitched I am?
_Magistrate:_ This man has been arrested on a charge of murder.
_Mrs. Fallon:_ Whose charge is that? Don't believe them! They are all
liars in this place! Give me back my man!
_Magistrate_. It is natural you should take his part, but you have no
cause of complaint against your neighbours. He has been arrested for
the murder of John Smith, on his own confession.
_Mrs. Fallon:_ The saints of heaven protect us! And what did he want
killing Jack Smith?
_Magistrate:_ It is best you should know all. He did it on account of
a love affair with the murdered man's wife.
_Mrs. Fallon:_ (_Sitting down._) With Jack Smith's wife! With Kitty
Keary!--Ochone, the traitor!
_The Crowd:_ A great shame, indeed. He is a traitor, indeed.
_Mrs. Tully:_ To America he was bringing her, Mrs. Fallon.
_Bartley:_ What are you saying, Mary? I tell you----
_Mrs. Fallon:_ Don't say a word! I won't listen to any word you'll
say! (_Stops her ears._) O, isn't he the treacherous villain? Ohone go
deo!
_Bartley:_ Be quiet till I speak! Listen to what I say!
_Mrs. Fallon:_ Sitting beside me on the ass car coming to the town, so
quiet and so respectable, and treachery like that in his heart!
_Bartley:_ Is it your wits you have lost or is it I myself that have
lost my wits?
_Mrs. Fallon:_ And it's hard I earned you, slaving, slaving--and you
grumbling, and sighing, and coughing, and discontented, and the priest
wore out anointing you, with all the times you threatened to die!
_Bartley:_ Let you be quiet till I tell you!
_Mrs. Fallon:_ You to bring such a disgrace into the parish. A thing
that was never heard of before!
_Bartley:_ Will you shut your mouth and hear me speaking?
_Mrs. Fallon:_ And if it was for any sort of a fine handsome woman,
but for a little fistful of a woman like Kitty Keary, that's not four
feet high hardly, and not three teeth in her head unless she got new
ones! May God reward you, Bartley Fallon, for the black treachery in
your heart and the wickedness in your mind, and the red blood of poor
Jack Smith that is wet upon your hand! (_Voice of Jack Smith heard
singing._)
The sea shall be dry,
The earth under mourning and ban!
Then loud shall he cry
For the wife of the red-haired man!
_Bartley:_ It's Jack Smith's voice--I never knew a ghost to sing
before----. It is after myself and the fork he is coming! (_Goes back.
Enter Jack Smith._) Let one of you give him the fork and I will be
clear of him now and for eternity!
_Mrs. Tarpey:_ The Lord have mercy on us! Red Jack Smith! The man that
was going to be waked!
_James Ryan:_ Is it back from the grave you are come?
_Shawn Early:_ Is it alive you are, or is it dead you are?
_Tim Casey:_ Is it yourself at all that's in it?
_Mrs. Tully:_ Is it letting on you were to be dead?
_Mrs. Fallon:_ Dead or alive, let you stop Kitty Keary, your wife,
from bringing my man away with her to America!
_Jack Smith:_ It is what I think, the wits are gone astray on the
whole of you. What would my wife want bringing Bartley Fallon to
America?
_Mrs. Fallon:_ To leave yourself, and to get quit of you she wants,
Jack Smith, and to bring him away from myself. That's what the two of
them had settled together.
_Jack Smith:_ I'll break the head of any man that says that! Who is it
says it? (_To Tim Casey:_) Was it you said it? (_To Shawn Early:_) Was
it you?
_All together:_ (_Backing and shaking their heads._) It wasn't I said
it!
_Jack Smith:_ Tell me the name of any man that said it!
_All together:_ (_Pointing to Bartley._) It was _him_ that said it!
_Jack Smith:_ Let me at him till I break his head!
(_Bartley backs in terror. Neighbours hold Jack Smith back._)
_Jack Smith:_ (_Trying to free himself._) Let me at him! Isn't he the
pleasant sort of a scarecrow for any woman to be crossing the ocean
with! It's back from the docks of New York he'd be turned (_trying to
rush at him again_), with a lie in his mouth and treachery in his
heart, and another man's wife by his side, and he passing her off as
his own! Let me at him can't you.
(_Makes another rush, but is held back._)
_Magistrate:_ (_Pointing to Jack Smith._) Policeman, put the handcuffs
on this man. I see it all now. A case of false impersonation, a
conspiracy to defeat the ends of justice. There was a case in the
Andaman Islands, a murderer of the Mopsa tribe, a religious
enthusiast----
_Policeman:_ So he might be, too.
_Magistrate:_ We must take both these men to the scene of the murder.
We must confront them with the body of the real Jack Smith.
_Jack Smith:_ I'll break the head of any man that will find my dead
body!
_Magistrate:_ I'll call more help from the barracks. (_Blows
Policeman's whistle._)
_Bartley:_ It is what I am thinking, if myself and Jack Smith are put
together in the one cell for the night, the handcuffs will be taken
off him, and his hands will be free, and murder will be done that time
surely!
_Magistrate:_ Come on! (_They turn to the right._)
HYACINTH HALVEY
PERSONS
_Hyacinth Halvey._
_James Quirke, a butcher._
_Fardy Farrell, a telegraph boy._
_Sergeant Carden._
_Mrs. Delane, Postmistress at Cloon._
_Miss Joyce, the Priest's House-keeper._
HYACINTH HALVEY
_Scene: Outside the Post Office at the little town of Cloon.
Mrs. Delane at Post Office door. Mr. Quirke sitting on a chair
at butcher's door. A dead sheep hanging beside it, and a thrush
in a cage above. Fardy Farrell playing on a mouth organ. Train
whistle heard._
_Mrs. Delane:_ There is the four o'clock train, Mr. Quirke.
_Mr. Quirke:_ Is it now, Mrs. Delane, and I not long after rising? It
makes a man drowsy to be doing the half of his work in the night time.
Going about the country, looking for little stags of sheep, striving
to knock a few shillings together. That contract for the soldiers
gives me a great deal to attend to.
_Mrs. Delane:_ I suppose so. It's hard enough on myself to be down
ready for the mail car in the morning, sorting letters in the half
dark. It's often I haven't time to look who are the letters from--or
the cards.
_Mr. Quirke:_ It would be a pity you not to know any little news might
be knocking about. If you did not have information of what is going
on who should have it? Was it you, ma'am, was telling me that the new
Sub-Sanitary Inspector would be arriving to-day?
_Mrs. Delane:_ To-day it is he is coming, and it's likely he was in
that train. There was a card about him to Sergeant Carden this
morning.
_Mr. Quirke:_ A young chap from Carrow they were saying he was.
_Mrs. Delane:_ So he is, one Hyacinth Halvey; and indeed if all that
is said of him is true, or if a quarter of it is true, he will be a
credit to this town.
_Mr. Quirke:_ Is that so?
_Mrs. Delane:_ Testimonials he has by the score. To Father Gregan they
were sent. Registered they were coming and going. Would you believe me
telling you that they weighed up to three pounds?
_Mr. Quirke:_ There must be great bulk in them indeed.
_Mrs. Delane:_ It is no wonder he to get the job. He must have a great
character so many persons to write for him as what there did.
_Fardy:_ It would be a great thing to have a character like that.
_Mrs. Delane:_ Indeed I am thinking it will be long before you will
get the like of it, Fardy Farrell.
_Fardy:_ If I had the like of that of a character it is not here
carrying messages I would be. It's in Noonan's Hotel I would be,
driving cars.
_Mr. Quirke:_ Here is the priest's housekeeper coming.
_Mrs. Delane:_ So she is; and there is the Sergeant a little while
after her.
(_Enter Miss Joyce._)
_Mrs. Delane:_ Good-evening to you, Miss Joyce. What way is his
Reverence to-day? Did he get any ease from the cough?
_Miss Joyce:_ He did not indeed, Mrs. Delane. He has it sticking to
him yet. Smothering he is in the night time. The most thing he comes
short in is the voice.
_Mrs. Delane:_ I am sorry, now, to hear that. He should mind himself
well.
_Miss Joyce:_ It's easy to say let him mind himself. What do you say
to him going to the meeting to-night? (_Sergeant comes in._) It's for
his Reverence's _Freeman_ I am come, Mrs. Delane.
_Mrs. Delane:_ Here it is ready. I was just throwing an eye on it to
see was there any news. Good-evening, Sergeant.
_Sergeant:_ (_Holding up a placard._) I brought this notice, Mrs.
Delane, the announcement of the meeting to be held to-night in the
Courthouse. You might put it up here convenient to the window. I hope
you are coming to it yourself?
_Mrs. Delane:_ I will come, and welcome. I would do more than that for
you, Sergeant.
_Sergeant:_ And you, Mr. Quirke.
_Mr. Quirke:_ I'll come, to be sure. I forget what's this the meeting
is about.
_Sergeant:_ The Department of Agriculture is sending round a lecturer
in furtherance of the moral development of the rural classes.
(_Reads._) "A lecture will be given this evening in Cloon Courthouse,
illustrated by magic lantern slides--" Those will not be in it; I am
informed they were all broken in the first journey, the railway
company taking them to be eggs. The subject of the lecture is "The
Building of Character."
_Mrs. Delane:_ Very nice, indeed. I knew a girl lost her character,
and she washed her feet in a blessed well after, and it dried up on
the minute.
_Sergeant:_ The arrangements have all been left to me, the Archdeacon
being away. He knows I have a good intellect for things of the sort.
But the loss of those slides puts a man out. The thing people will not
see it is not likely it is the thing they will believe. I saw what
they call tableaux--standing pictures, you know--one time in Dundrum----
_Mrs. Delane:_ Miss Joyce was saying Father Gregan is supporting you.
_Sergeant:_ I am accepting his assistance. No bigotry about me when
there is a question of the welfare of any fellow-creatures. Orange and
green will stand together to-night. I myself and the station-master
on the one side; your parish priest in the chair.
_Miss Joyce:_ If his Reverence would mind me he would not quit the
house to-night. He is no more fit to go speak at a meeting than
(_pointing to the one hanging outside Quirke's door_) that sheep.
_Sergeant:_ I am willing to take the responsibility. He will have no
speaking to do at all, unless it might be to bid them give the
lecturer a hearing. The loss of those slides now is a great annoyance
to me--and no time for anything. The lecturer will be coming by the
next train.
_Miss Joyce:_ Who is this coming up the street, Mrs. Delane?
_Mrs. Delane:_ I wouldn't doubt it to be the new Sub-Sanitary
Inspector. Was I telling you of the weight of the testimonials he got,
Miss Joyce?
_Miss Joyce:_ Sure I heard the curate reading them to his Reverence.
He must be a wonder for principles.
_Mrs. Delane:_ Indeed it is what I was saying to myself, he must be a
very saintly young man.
(_Enter Hyacinth Halvey. He carries a small bag and a large
brown paper parcel. He stops and nods bashfully._)
_Hyacinth:_ Good-evening to you. I was bid to come to the post
office----
_Sergeant:_ I suppose you are Hyacinth Halvey? I had a letter about
you from the Resident Magistrate.
_Hyacinth:_ I heard he was writing. It was my mother got a friend he
deals with to ask him.
_Sergeant:_ He gives you a very high character.
_Hyacinth:_ It is very kind of him indeed, and he not knowing me at
all. But indeed all the neighbours were very friendly. Anything any
one could do to help me they did it.
_Mrs. Delane:_ I'll engage it is the testimonals you have in your
parcel? I know the wrapping paper, but they grew in bulk since I
handled them.
_Hyacinth:_ Indeed I was getting them to the last. There was not one
refused me. It is what my mother was saying, a good character is no
burden.
_Fardy:_ I would believe that indeed.
_Sergeant:_ Let us have a look at the testimonials.
(_Hyacinth Halvey opens parcel, and a large number of envelopes
fall out._)
_Sergeant:_ (_Opening and reading one by one_). "He possesses the fire
of the Gael, the strength of the Norman, the vigour of the Dane, the
stolidity of the Saxon"----
_Hyacinth:_ It was the Chairman of the Poor Law Guardians wrote that.
_Sergeant:_ "A magnificent example to old and young"----
_Hyacinth:_ That was the Secretary of the DeWet Hurling Club----
_Sergeant:_ "A shining example of the value conferred by an eminently
careful and high class education"----
_Hyacinth:_ That was the National Schoolmaster.
_Sergeant:_ "Devoted to the highest ideals of his Mother-land to such
an extent as is compatible with a hitherto non-parliamentary
career"----
_Hyacinth:_ That was the Member for Carrow.
_Sergeant:_ "A splendid exponent of the purity of the race"----
_Hyacinth:_ The Editor of the _Carrow Champion_.
_Sergeant:_ "Admirably adapted for the efficient discharge of all
possible duties that may in future be laid upon him"----
_Hyacinth:_ The new Station-master.
_Sergeant:_ "A champion of every cause that can legitimately benefit
his fellow-creatures"---- Why, look here, my man, you are the very one
to come to our assistance to-night.
_Hyacinth:_ I would be glad to do that. What way can I do it?
_Sergeant:_ You are a newcomer--your example would carry weight--you
must stand up as a living proof of the beneficial effect of a high
character, moral fibre, temperance--there is something about it here I
am sure--(_Looks._) I am sure I saw "unparalleled temperance" in some
place----
_Hyacinth:_ It was my mother's cousin wrote that--I am no drinker, but
I haven't the pledge taken----
_Sergeant:_ You might take it for the purpose.
_Mr. Quirke:_ (_Eagerly._) Here is an anti-treating button. I was made
a present of it by one of my customers--I'll give it to you (_sticks it
in Hyacinth's coat_) and welcome.
_Sergeant:_ That is it. You can wear the button on the platform--or a
bit of blue ribbon--hundreds will follow your example--I know the boys
from the Workhouse will----
_Hyacinth:_ I am in no way wishful to be an example----
_Sergeant:_ I will read extracts from the testimonials. "There he is,"
I will say, "an example of one in early life who by his own unaided
efforts and his high character has obtained a profitable
situation"--(_Slaps his side._) I know what I'll do. I'll engage a few
corner-boys from Noonan's bar, just as they are, greasy and sodden, to
stand in a group--there will be the contrast--The sight will deter
others from a similar fate--That's the way to do a tableau--I knew I
could turn out a success.
_Hyacinth:_ I wouldn't like to be a contrast---
_Sergeant:_ (_Puts testimonials in his pocket._) I will go now and
engage those lads--sixpence each, and well worth it--Nothing like an
example for the rural classes.
(_Goes off, Hyacinth feebly trying to detain him._)
_Mrs. Delane:_ A very nice man indeed. A little high up in himself,
may be. I'm not one that blames the police. Sure they have their own
bread to earn like every other one. And indeed it is often they will
let a thing pass.
_Mr. Quirke:_ (_Gloomily._) Sometimes they will, and more times they
will not.
_Miss Joyce:_ And where will you be finding a lodging, Mr. Halvey?
_Hyacinth:_ I was going to ask that myself, ma'am. I don't know the
town.
_Miss Joyce:_ I know of a good lodging, but it is only a very good man
would be taken into it.
_Mrs. Delane:_ Sure there could be no objection there to Mr. Halvey.
There is no appearance on him but what is good, and the Sergeant after
taking him up the way he is doing.
_Miss Joyce:_ You will be near to the Sergeant in the lodging I speak
of. The house is convenient to the barracks.
_Hyacinth:_ (_Doubtfully._) To the barracks?
_Miss Joyce:_ Alongside of it and the barrack yard behind. And that's
not all. It is opposite to the priest's house.
_Hyacinth:_ Opposite, is it?
_Miss Joyce:_ A very respectable place, indeed, and a very clean room
you will get. I know it well. The curate can see into it from his
window.
_Hyacinth:_ Can he now?
_Fardy:_ There was a good many, I am thinking, went into that lodging
and left it after.
_Miss Joyce:_ (_Sharply._) It is a lodging you will never be let into
or let stop in, Fardy. If they did go they were a good riddance.
_Fardy:_ John Hart, the plumber, left it----
_Miss Joyce:_ If he did it was because he dared not pass the police
coming in, as he used, with a rabbit he was after snaring in his hand.
_Fardy:_ The schoolmaster himself left it.
_Miss Joyce:_ He needn't have left it if he hadn't taken to
card-playing. What way could you say your prayers, and shadows
shuffling and dealing before you on the blind?
_Hyacinth:_ I think maybe I'd best look around a bit before I'll
settle in a lodging----
_Miss Joyce:_ Not at all. _You_ won't be wanting to pull down the
blind.
_Mrs. Delane:_ It is not likely _you_ will be snaring rabbits.
_Miss Joyce:_ Or bringing in a bottle and taking an odd glass the way
James Kelly did.
_Mrs. Delane:_ Or writing threatening notices, and the police taking a
view of you from the rear.
_Miss Joyce:_ Or going to roadside dances, or running after
good-for-nothing young girls----
_Hyacinth:_ I give you my word I'm not so harmless as you think.
_Mrs. Delane:_ Would you be putting a lie on these, Mr. Halvey?
(_Touching testimonials._) I know well the way you will be spending
the evenings, writing letters to your relations----
_Miss Joyce:_ Learning O'Growney's exercises----
_Mrs. Delane:_ Sticking post cards in an album for the convent bazaar.
_Miss Joyce:_ Reading the _Catholic Young Man_----
_Mrs. Delane:_ Playing the melodies on a melodeon----
_Miss Joyce:_ Looking at the pictures in the _Lives of the Saints_.
I'll hurry on and engage the room for you.
_Hyacinth:_ Wait. Wait a minute----
_Miss Joyce:_ No trouble at all. I told you it was just opposite.
(_Goes._)
_Mr. Quirke:_ I suppose I must go upstairs and ready myself for the
meeting. If it wasn't for the contract I have for the soldiers'
barracks and the Sergeant's good word, I wouldn't go anear it. (_Goes
into shop._)
_Mrs. Delane:_ I should be making myself ready too. I must be in good
time to see you being made an example of, Mr. Halvey. It is I myself
was the first to say it; you will be a credit to the town. (_Goes._)
_Hyacinth:_ (_In a tone of agony._) I wish I had never seen Cloon.
_Fardy:_ What is on you?
_Hyacinth:_ I wish I had never left Carrow. I wish I had been drowned
the first day I thought of it, and I'd be better off.
_Fardy:_ What is it ails you?
_Hyacinth:_ I wouldn't for the best pound ever I had be in this place
to-day.
_Fardy:_ I don't know what you are talking about.
_Hyacinth:_ To have left Carrow, if it was a poor place, where I had
my comrades, and an odd spree, and a game of cards--and a coursing
match coming on, and I promised a new greyhound from the city of
Cork. I'll die in this place, the way I am. I'll be too much closed
in.
_Fardy:_ Sure it mightn't be as bad as what you think.
_Hyacinth:_ Will you tell me, I ask you, what way can I undo it?
_Fardy:_ What is it you are wanting to undo?
_Hyacinth:_ Will you tell me what way can I get rid of my character?
_Fardy:_ To get rid of it, is it?
_Hyacinth:_ That is what I said. Aren't you after hearing the great
character they are after putting on me?
_Fardy:_ That is a good thing to have.
_Hyacinth:_ It is not. It's the worst in the world. If I hadn't it, I
wouldn't be like a prize mangold at a show with every person praising
me.
_Fardy:_ If I had it, I wouldn't be like a head in a barrel, with
every person making hits at me.
_Hyacinth:_ If I hadn't it, I wouldn't be shoved into a room with all
the clergy watching me and the police in the back yard.
_Fardy:_ If I had it, I wouldn't be but a message-carrier now, and a
clapper scaring birds in the summer time.
_Hyacinth:_ If I hadn't it, I wouldn't be wearing this button and
brought up for an example at the meeting.
_Fardy:_ (_Whistles._) Maybe you're not, so, what those papers make
you out to be?
_Hyacinth:_ How would I be what they make me out to be? Was there ever
any person of that sort since the world was a world, unless it might
be Saint Antony of Padua looking down from the chapel wall? If it is
like that I was, isn't it in Mount Melleray I would be, or with the
Friars at Esker? Why would I be living in the world at all, or doing
the world's work?
_Fardy:_ (_Taking up parcel._) Who would think, now, there would be so
much lies in a small place like Carrow?
_Hyacinth:_ It was my mother's cousin did it. He said I was not reared
for labouring--he gave me a new suit and bid me never to come back
again. I daren't go back to face him--the neighbours knew my mother had
a long family--bad luck to them the day they gave me these. (_Tears
letters and scatters them._) I'm done with testimonials. They won't be
here to bear witness against me.
_Fardy:_ The Sergeant thought them to be great. Sure he has the
samples of them in his pocket. There's not one in the town but will
know before morning that you are the next thing to an earthly saint.
_Hyacinth:_ (_Stamping._) I'll stop their mouths. I'll show them I can
be a terror for badness. I'll do some injury. I'll commit some crime.
The first thing I'll do I'll go and get drunk. If I never did it
before I'll do it now. I'll get drunk--then I'll make an assault--I tell
you I'd think as little of taking a life as of blowing out a candle.
_Fardy:_ If you get drunk you are done for. Sure that will be held up
after as an excuse for any breaking of the law.