beginning to redden._
JOEL. Yonder's the sergeant's jew's-harp. That's our signal, Nell. So
long, colonel.
THE FIGURE. [_Nodding._] So long, sonny.
ANDREW. [_Holding_ ELLEN'S _hands, passionately_.] You understand? You
_do_?
ELLEN. [_Looking in his eyes._] I understand, dear.
[_They kiss each other._
JOEL. [_Calls low._] Come, you married turtles. The road's clear. Follow
me now. Sneak.
[_Carrying his knapsack_, JOEL _climbs over the embankment and
disappears_.
[_The thrumming of the jew's-harp continues._
[ELLEN, _taking the strip of silk flag from her shoulders, ties it
to the standard_.
ANDREW. [_Faintly._] God bless you!
ELLEN. [_As they part hands._] Good-by!
[THE FIGURE _has remounted the embankment, where--in the distincter
glow of the red dawn--the gray folds of his cloak, hanging from his
shoulders, resemble the half-closed wings of an eagle, the beaked
cowl falling, as a kind of visor, before his face, concealing it_.
THE FIGURE. Come, little gal.
[ELLEN _goes to him, and hides her face in the great cloak. As she
does so, he draws from it a paper, writes on it, and hands it to_
ANDREW, _with the powder-horn_.
THE FIGURE. By the by, Andy, here's that s'curity. Them here's my
initials; they're all what's needful. Jest file this in the right
pigeonhole, and you'll draw your pay. Keep your upper lip, boy. I'll
meet ye later, mebbe, at Lundy's Lane.
ANDREW. [_Wistfully._] You'll take her home?
THE FIGURE. Yes; reckon she'll housekeep for your uncle till you get
back; won't ye, Nellie? Come, don't cry, little gal. We'll soon git
'quainted. 'Tain't the fust time sweethearts has called me _Uncle_.
[_Flinging back his great cloak, he throws one wing of it, with his
arm, about her shoulders, thus with half its reverse side draping
her with shining stripes and stars. By the same action his own
figure is made partly visible--the legs clad in the tight,
instep-strapped trousers (blue and white) of the Napoleonic era.
Holding the girl gently to him--while her face turns back toward_
ANDREW--_he leads her, silhouetted against the sunrise, along the
embankment, and disappears_.
[_Meantime, the thrumming twang of the jew's-harp grows sweeter,
mellower, modulated with harmonies that, filling now the air with
elusive strains of the American war-hymn, mingle with the faint
dawn-twitterings of birds._
[ANDREW _stares silently after the departed forms; then, slowly
coming down into the intrenchment, lifts from the ground his gun
and ramrod, leans on the gun, and--reading the paper in his hand by
the growing light--mutters it aloud_:
_U. S. A._
[_Smiling sternly, he crumples the paper in his fist, makes a wad
of it, and rams it into his gun-barrel._
HYACINTH HALVEY
BY
LADY AUGUSTA GREGORY
_Hyacinth Halvey_ is reprinted by special permission of G. P. Putnam's
Sons, New York City, publishers of Lady Gregory's work in America. All
rights reserved. For permission to perform, address the publisher.
LADY AUGUSTA GREGORY
Lady Augusta Gregory, one of the foremost figures in the Irish dramatic
movement, was born at Roxborough, County Galway, Ireland, in 1859. "She
was then a young woman," says one who has described her in her early
married life, "very earnest, who divided her hair in the middle and wore
it smooth on either side of a broad and handsome brow. Her eyes were
always full of questions.... In her drawing-room were to be met men of
assured reputation in literature and politics, and there was always the
best reading of the times upon her tables." Lady Gregory has devoted her
entire life to the cause of Irish literature. In 1911 she visited the
United States and at a dinner given to her by _The Outlook_ in New York
City she said:
"I will not cease from mental strife
Or let the sword fall from my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In--Ireland's--fair and lovely land."
Lady Gregory, with William Butler Yeats and John Millington Synge, has
been the very life of the Irish drama. The literary association of these
three has been highly fruitful. She helped to found the Irish National
Theatre Society, and for a number of years has been the managing force
of the celebrated Abbey Theatre in Dublin.
Lady Gregory's chief interest has been in peasant comedies and
folk-plays. Her _Spreading the News_, _Hyacinth Halvey_, _The Rising of
the Moon_, _The Workhouse Ward_, and _The Travelling Man_ are well-known
contributions to contemporary drama.
It is a noteworthy fact that most of the plays of the Irish dramatic
movement are one-act plays. Much of Irish life lends itself admirably to
one-act treatment. _Hyacinth Halvey_ is one of Lady Gregory's best
productions. This play contains a universal idea: reputation is in great
measure a matter of "a password or an emotion." Hyacinth, having a good
reputation thrust upon him, may do as he likes--his good name clings to
him notwithstanding.
PERSONS
HYACINTH HALVEY
JAMES QUIRKE, _a butcher_
FARDY FARREL, _a telegraph boy_
SERGEANT CARDEN
MRS. DELANE, _postmistress at Cloon_
MISS JOYCE, _the priest's housekeeper_
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_.
MISS JOYCE. 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 court-house.
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 Court-House, 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 neighbors were very friendly. Anything any one
could do to help me they did it.
MRS. DELANE. I'll engage it is the testimonials 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 a 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 vigor 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 De Wet 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 motherland 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 antitreating 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,
maybe. 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 up-stairs 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 marigold 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
laboring--he gave me a new suit and bid me never to come back again. I
daren't go back to face him--the neighbors 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.
HYACINTH. I will break the law. Drunk or sober, I'll break it. I'll do
something that will have no excuse. What would you say is the worst
crime that any man can do?
FARDY. I don't know. I heard the sergeant saying one time it was to
obstruct the police in the discharge of their duty----
HYACINTH. That won't do. It's a patriot I would be then, worse than
before, with my picture in the weeklies. It's a red crime I must commit
that will make all respectable people quit minding me. What can I do?
Search your mind now.
FARDY. It's what I heard the old people saying there could be no worse
crime than to steal a sheep----
HYACINTH. I'll steal a sheep--or a cow--or a horse--if that will leave
me the way I was before.
FARDY. It's maybe in jail it will leave you.
HYACINTH. I don't care--I'll confess--I'll tell why I did it--I give you
my word I would as soon be picking oakum or breaking stones as to be
perched in the daylight the same as that bird, and all the town
chirruping to me or bidding me chirrup----
FARDY. There is reason in that, now.
HYACINTH. Help me, will you?
FARDY. Well, if it is to steal a sheep you want, you haven't far to go.
HYACINTH. [_Looking around wildly._] Where is it? I see no sheep.
FARDY. Look around you.
HYACINTH. I see no living thing but that thrush----
FARDY. Did I say it was living? What is that hanging on Quirke's rack?
HYACINTH. It's [_fingers it_] a sheep, sure enough----
FARDY. Well, what ails you that you can't bring it away?
HYACINTH. It's a dead one----
FARDY. What matter if it is?
HYACINTH. If it was living I could drive it before me----
FARDY. You could. Is it to your own lodging you would drive it? Sure
every one would take it to be a pet you brought from Carrow.
HYACINTH. I suppose they might.
FARDY. Miss Joyce sending in for news of it and it bleating behind the
bed.
HYACINTH. [_Distracted._] Stop! stop!
MRS. DELANE. [_From upper window._] Fardy! Are you there, Fardy Farrell?
FARDY. I am, ma'am.
MRS. DELANE. [_From window._] Look and tell me is that the telegraph I
hear ticking?
FARDY. [_Looking in at door._] It is, ma'am.
MRS. DELANE. Then botheration to it, and I not dressed or undressed.
Wouldn't you say, now, it's to annoy me it is calling me down. I'm
coming! I'm coming! [_Disappears._
FARDY. Hurry on, now! Hurry! She'll be coming out on you. If you are
going to do it, do it, and if you are not, let it alone.
HYACINTH. I'll do it! I'll do it!
FARDY. [_Lifting the sheep on his back._] I'll give you a hand with it.
HYACINTH. [_Goes a step or two and turns round._] You told me no place
where I could hide it.
FARDY. You needn't go far. There is the church beyond at the side of the
square. Go round to the ditch behind the wall--there's nettles in it.
HYACINTH. That'll do.
FARDY. She's coming out--run! run!
HYACINTH. [_Runs a step or two._] It's slipping!
FARDY. Hoist it up. I'll give it a hoist!
[HALVEY _runs out_.
MRS. DELANE. [_Calling out._] What are you doing, Fardy Farrell? Is it
idling you are?
FARDY. Waiting I am, ma'am, for the message----
MRS. DELANE. Never mind the message yet. Who said it was ready? [_Going
to door._] Go ask for the loan of--no, but ask news of--Here, now go
bring that bag of Mr. Halvey's to the lodging Miss Joyce has taken----
FARDY. I will, ma'am. [_Takes bag and goes out._
MRS. DELANE. [_Coming out with a telegram in her hand._] Nobody here?
[_Looks round and calls cautiously._] Mr. Quirke! Mr. Quirke! James
Quirke!