one must set one's original a little way off to get a translation
rather than a tracing, he found himself in Cloon, where, as in other
parts of our country, "character" is built up or destroyed by a
password or an emotion, rather than by experience and deliberation.
The idea was more of a universal one than I knew at the first, and I
have had but uneasy appreciation from some apparently blameless
friends.
THE RISING OF THE MOON
When I was a child and came with my elders to Galway for their salmon
fishing in the river that rushes past the gaol, I used to look with
awe at the window where men were hung, and the dark, closed gate. I
used to wonder if ever a prisoner might by some means climb the high,
buttressed wall and slip away in the darkness by the canal to the
quays and find friends to hide him under a load of kelp in a fishing
boat, as happens to my ballad-singing man. The play was considered
offensive to some extreme Nationalists before it was acted, because it
showed the police in too favourable a light, and a Unionist paper
attacked it after it was acted because the policeman was represented
"as a coward and a traitor"; but after the Belfast police strike that
same paper praised its "insight into Irish character." After all these
ups and downs it passes unchallenged on both sides of the Irish Sea.
THE JACKDAW
The first play I wrote was called "Twenty-five." It was played by our
company in Dublin and London, and was adapted and translated into
Irish and played in America. It was about "A boy of Kilbecanty that
saved his old sweetheart from being evicted. It was playing
Twenty-five he did it; played with the husband he did, letting him win
up to L50."
It was rather sentimental and weak in construction, and for a long
time it was an overflowing storehouse of examples of "the faults of my
dramatic method." I have at last laid its ghost in "The Jackdaw," and
I have not been accused of sentimentality since the appearance of
this.
THE WORKHOUSE WARD
I heard of an old man in the workhouse who had been disabled many
years before by, I think, a knife thrown at him by his wife in some
passionate quarrel.
One day I heard the wife had been brought in there, poor and sick. I
wondered how they would meet, and if the old quarrel was still alive,
or if they who knew the worst of each other would be better pleased
with one another's company than with that of strangers.
I wrote a scenario of the play, Dr. Douglas Hyde, getting in plot what
he gave back in dialogue, for at that time we thought a dramatic
movement in Irish would be helpful to our own as well as to the Gaelic
League. Later I tried to rearrange it for our own theatre, and for
three players only, but in doing this I found it necessary to write
entirely new dialogue, the two old men in the original play obviously
talking at an audience in the wards, which is no longer there.
I sometimes think the two scolding paupers are a symbol of ourselves
in Ireland--[Gaelic script and words]--"it is better to be quarrelling
than to be lonesome." The Rajputs, that great fighting race, when they
were told they had been brought under the Pax Britannica and must give
up war, gave themselves to opium in its place, but Connacht has not
yet planted its poppy gardens.
THE TRAVELLING MAN
An old woman living in a cabin by a bog road on Slieve Echtge told me
the legend on which this play is founded, and which I have already
published in "Poets and Dreamers."
"There was a poor girl walking the road one night with no place to
stop, and the Saviour met her on the road, and He said--'Go up to the
house you see a light in; there's a woman dead there, and they'll let
you in.' So she went, and she found the woman laid out, and the
husband and other people; but she worked harder than they all, and she
stopped in the house after; and after two quarters the man married
her. And one day she was sitting outside the door, picking over a bag
of wheat, and the Saviour came again, with the appearance of a poor
man, and He asked her for a few grains of the wheat. And she
said--'Wouldn't potatoes be good enough for you?' And she called to the
girl within to bring out a few potatoes. But He took nine grains of
the wheat in His hand and went away; and there wasn't a grain of wheat
left in the bag, but all gone. So she ran after Him then to ask Him to
forgive her; and she overtook Him on the road, and she asked
forgiveness. And He said--'Don't you remember the time you had no house
to go to, and I met you on the road, and sent you to a house where
you'd live in plenty? And now you wouldn't give Me a few grains of
wheat.' And she said--'But why didn't you give me a heart that would
like to divide it?' That is how she came round on Him. And He
said--'From this out, whenever you have plenty in your hands, divide it
freely for My sake.'"
And an old woman who sold sweets in a little shop in Galway, and whose
son became a great Dominican preacher, used to say--"Refuse not any,
for one may be the Christ."
I owe the Rider's Song, and some of the rest, to W. B. Yeats.
THE GAOL GATE
I was told a story some one had heard, of a man who had gone to
welcome his brother coming out of gaol, and heard he had died there
before the gates had been opened for him.
I was going to Galway, and at the Gort station I met two cloaked and
shawled countrywomen from the slopes of Slieve Echtge, who were
obliged to go and see some law official in Galway because of some
money left them by a kinsman in Australia. They had never been in a
train or to any place farther than a few miles from their own village,
and they felt astray and terrified "like blind beasts in a bog" they
said, and I took care of them through the day.
An agent was fired at on the road from Athenry, and some men were
taken up on suspicion. One of them was a young carpenter from my old
home, and in a little time a rumour was put about that he had informed
against the others in Galway gaol. When the prisoners were taken
across the bridge to the courthouse he was hooted by the crowd. But at
the trial it was found that he had not informed, that no evidence had
been given at all; and bonfires were lighted for him as he went home.
These three incidents coming within a few months wove themselves into
this little play, and within three days it had written itself, or been
written. I like it better than any in the volume, and I have never
changed a word of it.
FIRST PRODUCTIONS OF THE PLAYS
SPREADING THE NEWS was produced for the first time at the opening of
the Abbey Theatre, on Tuesday, 27th December, 1904, with the following
cast:
_Bartley Fallon_ W. G. FAY
_Mrs. Fallon_ SARA ALGOOD
_Mrs. Tully_ EMMA VERNON
_Mrs. Tarpey_ MAIRE NI GHARBHAIGH
_Shawn Early_ J. H. DUNNE
_Tim Casey_ GEORGE ROBERTS
_James Ryan_ ARTHUR SINCLAIR
_Jack Smith_ P. MACSUIBHLAIGH
_A Policeman_ R. S. NASH
_A Removable Magistrate_ F. J. FAY
HYACINTH HALVEY was first produced at the Abbey Theatre on 19th
February, 1906, with the following cast:
_Hyacinth Halvey_ F. J. FAY
_James Quirke, a butcher_ W. G. FAY
_Fardy Farrell, a telegraph boy_ ARTHUR SINCLAIR
_Sergeant Carden_ WALTER MAGEE
_Mrs. Delane, Postmistress at Cloon_ SARA ALLGOOD
_Miss Joyce, the Priest's House-keeper_ BRIGIT O'DEMPSEY
THE GAOL GATE was first produced at the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, on 20th
October, 1906, with the following cast:
_Mary Cahel_ SARA ALLGOOD
_Mary Cushin_ MAIRE O'NEILL
_The Gate Keeper_ F. J. FAY
THE JACKDAW was first produced at the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, on 23rd
February, 1907, with the following cast:
_Joseph Nestor_ F. J. FAY
_Michael Cooney_ W. G. FAY
_Mrs. Broderick_ SARA ALLGOOD
_Tommy Nally_ ARTHUR SINCLAIR
_Sibby Fahy_ BRIGIT O'DEMPSEY
_Timothy Ward_ J. M. KERRIGAN
THE RISING OF THE MOON was first produced at the Abbey Theatre,
Dublin, on 9th March, 1907, with the following cast:
_Sergeant_ ARTHUR SINCLAIR
_Policeman X._ J. A. O'ROURKE
_Policeman B._ J. M. KERRIGAN
_Ballad Singer_ W. G. FAY
WORKHOUSE WARD was first produced at the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, on
20th April, 1908, with the following cast:
_Mike M'Inerney_ ARTHUR SINCLAIR
_Michael Miskell_ FRED O'DONOVAN
_Mrs. Donohue_ MARIE O'NEILL
_A Selection from the Catalogue of_
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
Complete Catalogues sent on application
The Golden Apple
A Kiltartan Play for Children
By
Lady Gregory
Author of "Seven Short Plays"
"Our Irish Theatre"
"Irish Folk-History Plays," etc.
_8vo Eight full-page Illustrations in color_
_$1.25 net._
This play deals with the adventures of the King of Ireland's son, who
goes in search of the Golden Apple of Healing. The scenes are laid in
the Witch's Garden, the Giant's House, the Wood of Wonders, and the
King of Ireland's Room. It is both humorous and lyrical, and should
please children and their elders, alike. The colored illustrations
have the same old faery-tale air as the play itself.
Irish Folk-History Plays
By
LADY GREGORY
_First Series. The Tragedies_
GRANIA KINCORA DERVORGILLA
_Second Series. The Tragic Comedies_
THE CANAVANS THE WHITE COCKADE THE DELIVERER
_2 vols. Each, $1.5O net. By mail, $1.65_
Lady Gregory has preferred going for her material to the traditional
folk-history rather than to the authorized printed versions, and she
has been able, in so doing, to make her plays more living. One of
these, Kincora, telling of Brian Boru, who reigned in the year 1000,
evoked such keen local interest that an old farmer travelled from the
neighborhood of Kincora to see it acted in Dublin.
The story of Grania, on which Lady Gregory has founded one of these
plays, was taken entirely from tradition. Grania was a beautiful young
woman and was to have been married to Finn, the great leader of the
Fenians; but before the marriage, she went away from the bridegroom
with his handsome young kinsman, Diarmuid. After many years, when
Diarmuid had died (and Finn had a hand in his death), she went back to
Finn and became his queen.
Another of Lady Gregory's plays, The Canavans dealt with the stormy
times of Queen Elizabeth, whose memory is a horror in Ireland second
only to that of Cromwell.
The White Cockade is founded on a tradition of King James having
escaped from Ireland after the battle of the Boyne in a wine barrel.
The choice of folk history rather than written history gives a
freshness of treatment and elasticity of material which made the late
J. M. Synge say that "Lady Gregory's method had brought back the
possibility of writing historic plays."
All these plays, except Grania, which has not yet been staged, have
been very successfully performed in Ireland. They are written in the
dialect of Kiltartan, which had already become familiar to readers of
Lady Gregory's books.
New Comedies
By
LADY GREGORY
The Bogie Men--The Full Moon--Coats
Damer's Gold--McDonough's Wife
_8vo, With Portrait in Photogravure. $1.50 net. By mail, $1.65_
The plays have been acted with great success by the Abbey Company, and
have been highly extolled by appreciative audiences and an
enthusiastic press. They are distinguished by a humor of unchallenged
originality.
One of the plays in the collection, "Coats," depends for its plot upon
the rivalry of two editors, each of whom has written an obituary
notice of the other. The dialogue is full of crisp humor. "McDonough's
Wife," another drama that appears in the volume, is based on a legend,
and explains how a whole town rendered honor against its will. "The
Bogie Men" has as its underlying situation an amusing misunderstanding
of two chimney-sweeps. The wit and absurdity of the dialogue are in
Lady Gregory's best vein. "Damer's Gold" contains the story of a miser
beset by his gold-hungry relations. Their hopes and plans are upset by
one they had believed to be of the simple of the world, but who
confounds the Wisdom of the Wise. "The Full Moon" presents a little
comedy enacted on an Irish railway station. It is characterized by
humor of an original and delightful character and repartee that is
distinctly clever.
Irish Plays
By
LADY GREGORY
Lady Gregory's name has become a household word in America and her
works should occupy an exclusive niche in every library. Mr. George
Bernard Shaw, in a recently published interview, said Lady Gregory "is
the greatest living Irishwoman.... Even in the plays of Lady Gregory,
penetrated as they are by that intense love of Ireland which is
unintelligible to the many drunken blackguards with Irish names who
make their nationality an excuse for their vices and their
worthlessness, there is no flattery of the Irish; she writes about the
Irish as Moliere wrote about the French, having a talent curiously
like Moliere."
"The witchery of Yeats, the vivid imagination of Synge, the amusing
literalism mixed with the pronounced romance of their imitators, have
their place and have been given their praise without stint. But none
of these can compete with Lady Gregory for the quality of
universality. The best beauty in Lady Gregory's art is its
spontaneity. It is never forced.... She has read and dreamed and
studied, and slept and wakened and worked, and the great ideas that
have come to her have been nourished and trained till they have grown
to be of great stature."--_Chicago Tribune._
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK LONDON