Persons:
Mrs. Ford
Donagh Ford
Hugh Deely
Agnes Deely
Scene: A farmhouse in Connacht.
Hugh: They'll make short work of the high field. It's half ploughed
already.
Donagh: It was good of the people to gather as they did, giving us their
labour.
Hugh: The people had always a wish for your family, Donagh. Look at the
great name your father left behind him in Carrabane. It would be a fine
sight for him if he had lived to stand at this door now, looking at the
horses bringing the plough over the ground.
Donagh: And if he could move about this house, even in his great age. He
never got accustomed to the smallness of the hut down at Cussmona.
Hugh: When I was a bit of a gosoon I remember the people talking about
the eviction of Donagh Ford. It was terrible work used to be in
Carrabane those times. Your father was the first man to fight, and that
was why the people thought so well of him.
Donagh: He would never speak of it himself, for at home he was a silent,
proud man. But my mother used to be telling me of it many a time.
Hugh: Your mother and yourself have the place back now. And you have
Agnes to think of.
Donagh: Agnes is a good thought to me surely. Was she telling you we
fixed the day of the wedding yesterday at your uncle's?
Hugh: She was not. A girl like her is often shy of speaking about a
thing of that kind to her brother. I'd only be making game of her. (_A
cheer is heard in the distance outside. Hugh goes to look out door._)
Hugh: Here is the car coming up the road with your mother and Agnes.
They're giving her a welcome.
Donagh (_looking out of window_): She'll be very proud of the people,
they to have such a memory of my father.
Hugh: I'll run out and greet her. (_In a sly undertone._) Agnes is
coming up. (_He goes out laughing. Donagh hangs up harness on some pegs.
Agnes Deely, wearing a shawl over her head and carrying a basket on her
arm, comes in._)
Agnes: Donagh, your mother was greatly excited leaving the hut. I think
she doesn't rightly understand what is happening.
Donagh: I was afeard of that. The memory slips on her betimes. She
thinks she's back in the old days again.
Agnes (_going to dresser, taking parcels from the basket._): My father
was saying that we should have everything here as much like what it used
to be as we can. That's why he brought up the bin. When they were
evicted he took it up to his own place because it was too big for the
hut.
Donagh: Do you know, Agnes, when I came up here this morning with your
brother, Hugh, I felt the place strange and lonesome. I think an evicted
house is never the same, even when people go back to it. There seemed to
be some sorrow hanging over it.
Agnes (_putting up her shawl_): Now Donagh, that's no way for you to be
speaking. If you were to see how glad all the people were! And you ought
to have the greatest joy.
Donagh: Well, then I thought of you, Agnes, and that changed everything.
I went whistling about the place. (_Going to her._) After coming down
from your uncle's yesterday evening I heard the first cry of the cuckoo
in the wood at Raheen.
Agnes: That was a good omen, Donagh.
Donagh: I took it that way, too, for it was the first greeting I got
after parting from yourself. Did you hear it, Agnes?
Agnes: I did not. I heard only one sound the length of the evening.
Donagh: What sound was that, Agnes?
Agnes: I heard nothing only the singing of one song, a lovely song, all
about Donagh Ford!
Donagh: About me?
Agnes: Yes, indeed. It was no bird and no voice, but the singing I heard
of my own heart.
Donagh: That was a good song to hear, Agnes. It is like a thought that
would often stir in a man's mind and find no word to suit it. It is
often that I thought that way of you and could speak no word.
Agnes: All the same I think I would have an understanding for it,
Donagh.
Donagh: Ah, Agnes, that is just it. That is what gives me the great
comfort in your company. We have a great understanding of each other
surely.
Hugh (_speaking outside_): This is the way, Mrs. Ford. They are waiting
for you within. (_He comes in._) Donagh, here is your mother. (_Mrs.
Ford, leaning on a stick, comes to the door, standing on the threshold
for a little. Hugh and Donagh take off their hats reverently._)
Mrs. Ford: And is that you, Donagh. Well, if it is not the fine high
house you got for Agnes. Eh, pet?
Agnes (_taking shawl from her_): It is your own house Donagh has taken
you back to.
Hugh: Did you not hear the people giving you a welcome, Mrs. Ford?
Donagh: Don't you remember the house, mother?
Mrs. Ford: I have a memory of many a thing, God help me. And I heard the
people cheering. I thought maybe it was some strife was going on in
Carrabane. It was always a place of one struggle or another. (_She looks
helplessly about house, muttering as she hobbles to the bin. She raises
the lid._) Won't you take out a measure of oats to the mare, Donagh? And
they have mislaid the scoop again. I'm tired telling them not to be
leaving it in the barn. Where is that Martin Driscoll and what way is he
doing his business at all? (_She turns to close the bin._)
Hugh (_to Donagh_): Who is Martin Driscoll?
Donagh: A boy who was here long ago. I heard a story of him and a flight
with a girl. He lies in a grave in Australia long years.
Mrs. Ford (_moving from bin, her eyes catching the dresser_): Who put
the dresser there? Was it by my orders? That is a place where it will
come awkward to me.
Agnes (_going to her_): Sit down and rest yourself. You are fatigued
after making the journey.
Mrs. Ford (_as they cross to fire_): Wait until I lay eyes on Martin
Driscoll and on Delia Morrissey of the cross! I tell you I will regulate
them.
Donagh (_to Hugh_): Delia Morrissey--that is the name of the girl I
spoke of. She was lost on the voyage, a girl of great beauty.
Agnes (_to Mrs. Ford_): Did you take no stock of the people as you came
on the car?
Mrs. Ford: In throth I did. It was prime to see them there reddening the
sod and the little rain drops falling from the branches of the trees.
Hugh: They raised a great cheer for you.
Mrs. Ford: Did you say that it was to me they were giving a welcome?
Donagh: Indeed it was, mother.
Mrs. Ford (_laughing a little_): Mind that, Agnes. They are the lively
lads to be taking stock of an old woman the like of me driving the
roads.
Hugh: The people could not but feel some stir to see what they saw this
day. I declare to you, Donagh, when I saw her old stooped dark figure
thrown against the sky on the car it moved something in me.
Mrs. Ford: What are you saying about a stir in the country, Hugh Deely?
Hugh: Was it not something to see the planter going from this place? Was
it not something to see you and Donagh coming from a miserable place in
the bog?
Mrs. Ford (_sharply_): The planter, did you say? (_Clutching her stick
to rise_). Blessed be God! Is Curley the planter gone from Carrabane?
Don't make any lie to me, Hugh Deely.
Hugh: Curley is gone.
Mrs. Ford (_rising with difficulty, her agitation growing_): And his
wife? What about his trollop of a wife?
Donagh: The whole brood and tribe of them went a month back.
Agnes: Did not Donagh tell you that you were back in your own place
again? (_Mrs. Ford moves about, a consciousness of her surroundings
breaking upon her. She goes to room door, pushing it open._)
Hugh: It is all coming back to her again.
Donagh: She was only a little upset in her mind.
Mrs. Ford (_coming from room door_): Agnes, and you, Hugh Deely, come
here until I be telling you a thing of great wonder. It was in this
house Donagh there was born. And it was in that room that we laid out
his little sister, Mary. I remember the March day and the yellow flowers
they put around her in the bed. She had no strength for the rough world.
I crossed her little white hands on the breast where the life died in
her like a flame. Donagh, my son, it was nearly all going from my mind.
Agnes: This is no day for sad thoughts. Think of the great thing it is
for you to be back here again.
Mrs. Ford: Ah, that's the truth, girl. Did the world ever hear of such a
story as an old woman like me to be standing in this place and the
planter gone from Currabane! And if Donagh Ford is gone to his rest his
son is here to answer for him.
Donagh: The world knows I can never be the man my father was.
Mrs. Ford (_raising her stick with a little cry_): Ah-ha, the people saw
the great strength of Donagh Ford. 'They talk of a tenant at will,' he'd
say, 'but who is it that can chain the purpose of a man's mind.' And
they all saw it. There was no great spirit in the country when Donagh
Ford took the courage of his own heart and called the people together.
Hugh: This place was a place of great strife then.
Mrs. Ford: God send, Agnes Deely, that you'll never have the memory of a
bitter eviction burned into your mind.
Donagh: That's all over and done now, mother. There is a new life before
you.
Mrs. Ford: Well, they had their way and put us across the threshold. But
if they did it was on this hearth was kindled a blaze that swept the
townland and wrapped the country. It went from one place to another and
no wave that rose upon the Shannon could hold it back. It was a thing
that no power could check, for it ran in the blood and only wasted in
the vein of the father to leap fresh in the heart of the son. Ah, I will
go on my knees and kiss the threshold of this house for the things it
calls to mind. (_She goes to door, kneeling down and kissing the
threshold._)
Hugh: It is a great hold she has on the old days and a great spirit. (_A
low murmur of voices is heard in the distance outside._)
Donagh: They are turning the ploughs into the second field.
Mrs. Ford: What's that you say about the ploughs?
Donagh (_going to her_): The boys are breaking up the land for us. (_He
and Hugh help her to rise. They are all grouped at the door._)
Agnes: It was they who cheered you on the road.
Mrs. Ford: The sight is failing me.
Donagh. I can only make out little dark spots against the green of the
fields.
Donagh: Those are the people, mother.
Mrs. Ford (_crossing to fireplace_): The people are beginning to gather
behind the ploughs again. Tell me, Donagh, what way is the wind coming?
Donagh: It is coming up from the South.
Mrs. Ford (_speaking more to herself_): Well, I can ask no more now. The
wind is from the South and it will bear that cheer past where HE is
lying in Gurteen-na-Marbh. It is a kind wind and it carries good music.
Take my word for it every sound that goes on the wind is not lost to the
dead.
Hugh: You ought to take her out of these thoughts.
Agnes: Leave her with me for a little while. (_Hugh and Donagh move to
door._)
Mrs. Ford: Where are you going, Donagh?
Donagh: Down to the people breaking the ground. They will be waiting for
word of your home-coming.
Mrs. Ford: Ah, sure you ought to have the people up here, _a mhic_. I'd
like to see all the old neighbours about me and hear the music of their
voices.