Collected Plays and Teleplays (Irish Literature) (8 page)

TOWN CLERK:
Yes, it’s all arranged. We’ve a man from the Waterford Chamber of Commerce to say a few words—it looks well, you know, for an independent business candidate like yerself. An’ we’re having the Patrick Sarsfield Fife and Drum Band for the Knockaree rally—half of the divils in that place go back to bed after their dinners of a Sunday and we’ll have the divil’s work to get them up again for the meeting.

(
HANNAH
,
bored, finishes her show of working and goes out left.
)

KELLY:
(
Meditatively.
) Yes. Fair enough. I think I’ll say a few words about the banks. And emigration, that is bidding fair to drain our land of its life blood and spelling ruin to the business life of the community. The flight from the land is another thing that must be arrested at no far distant day. Please God when I get as far as the Dail I will have a word in season to say on that subject to the powers that be. And of course the scandal of the Runny Drainage Scheme is another subject upon which I will make it my particular business to say a few well-chosen words. Other members may sing dumb if they choose. Other members may be gagged by the party Whip. The opportunist and the time-server may not worry about such things. But please God if I win the confidence of the people of this country—if they see fit to entrust me with the task of representing them in the national assembly—I will speak my mind freely and fearlessly.

TOWN CLERK:
(
Putting down the papers he is studying and looking quizzically at
KELLY
.) Well, be Gob, if you’d only talk like that when you’re above on the platform, you’d have de Valera standin’ down from the Governmint to make room for you!

KELLY:
(
Carried away by his own talk.
) I’m telling you now, the country is in a very serious position. We must proceed with the utmost caution. Neither Right nor Left will save us but the middle of the road. Rash monetary or economic experiments will only lead us deeper into the mire. What the country requires most is informed and strong leadership and a truce to political wrangling, jobbery and jockeying for position. We have had enough of that—too much of it. Public departments must be ruthlessly pruned. Give me a free hand and I will save you a cool hundred thousand pounds in every one of them. I warrant you that if the people of this country see fit to send me to the Dail, there will be scandals in high places. I happen to know a thing or two. This is not the place or the time to mention certain matters. Suffice it to say that certain things are happening that should not happen. These things are known—to me at least. I can quote chapter and verse. I have it all at my finger-tips and in due time I will drag the whole unsavoury details into the inexorable light of day. No doubt they will seek to silence me with their gold. They will try to purchase my honour.

TOWN CLERK:
(
Sotto voce, after listening in amazement.
) I wish to God somebody would try to buy me.

KELLY:
(
Bringing his fist again on the table.
) Will they succeed? Will success crown their attempts to silence me? Will their gold once again carry the day and make me still another of their bought-and-paid-for minions? By God it won’t! By God in Heaven it won’t!

TOWN CLERK:
(
Again sotto voce.
) Be Gob, I’d sell me soul for half-acrown!

KELLY:
(
Shouting savagely.
) I won’t be bought by gentile or jewman! I won’t be bought! I’m not for sale! Do you hear me, Town Clerk? I’m not for sale! I’M NOT FOR SALE!

TOWN CLERK:
(
Lifting his head.
) Yerrah, Chairman, I’m not tryin’ to buy ye. Sure I didn’t make a bid at all. (
There is a ring.
) I’m only tryin’ to run me eye through these lists here. Be Gob, there’s some very quare people goin’ to vote for you if Cullen’s marks mean anything. There’s a Fianna Fail T.D. down here.

KELLY:
(
In a high, excited voice, still pacing and ignoring the
TOWN CLERK
.) I’m going to break through this thieves’ kitchen . . . this thieves’ kitchen . . . of gombeenery and corruption. I tell you I’m going to make a clean sweep of the whole lot of them, I’ll drag them bag and baggage into the cold light of day. And I won’t be stopped by Knight or Mason. Mark that, Town Clerk. I WON’T BE STOPPED BY KNIGHT OR MASON!

(
There is another prolonged ring in the silence that follows this outburst.
)

TOWN CLERK:
Here’s them two divils Kilshaughraun and Cullen, late and good-lookin’ after wastin’ half the mornin’. And yours too, Chairman.

(
HANNAH
appears, somewhat flustered, and hurries across the stage to exit, left back.
KELLY
stops pacing, passes a hand wearily across his brow and subsides again in his chair with a sigh.
)

KELLY:
Ah, Town Clerk, it’s not an easy world. It’s not an easy world. But please God we will do what we can for Ireland before we die. Please God we will be of some small service to the old land.

TOWN CLERK:
Sure I’ve been servin’ Ireland hard since I was born. And what thanks have I got? Me fees for fairs and markets were disallowed be the Minister last year.

(
Immediately towards the end of this speech an entirely unexpected figure enters the room, followed by a gaping
HANNAH
.
He is a slim, tall man of about forty, very well and carefully dressed. He wears glasses and a small, carefully tended moustache. He carries himself with the complete and somewhat alien assurance of the gentleman whose training makes him at home in any situation. When he speaks, it is with a comically exaggerated haw-haw English accent. He strides into the room and evinces a very slight well-bred surprise at seeing the
TOWN CLERK
and
KELLY
seated so casually in somebody else’s house. The
TOWN CLERK’S
attitude to the stranger is entirely non-committal but
KELLY
shows somewhat hostile surprise.
HANNAH
retreats to the door left, but does not leave the room, being prepared to die rather than miss whatever surprise is forthcoming. The newcomer puts hat, stick and gloves on table near door.
)

SHAW:
Ao. Good morning. Good morning.

TOWN CLERK:
Good morra, sir. That’s a grand spring morning, thank God.

(
KELLY
rises and stares inquiringly.
)

SHAW:
O yes, indeed, really marvellous weather. First class, actually. I say, my dear, is Mrs. Crockett about? Would you kindly let her know that Captain Shaw is here?

HANNAH:
(
Gaping wider.
) Yes, sir.

(
She is dismissed by his easy imperious manner and goes out left with great reluctance.
KELLY
continues to stare. The
TOWN CLERK
feels that his cuteness is challenged and is determined to find out who the stranger is and what is happening.
)

TOWN CLERK:
But yesterday wasn’t much of a day. Divil a bit of good yesterday ever did the spring wheat.

SHAW:
(
Blankly.
) I beg your pardon?

TOWN CLERK:
(
Taken somewhat aback.
) The weather wasn’t up to the mark yesterday, sir.

SHAW:
Nao, the weather in Ireland is rather a bad show. By the way, may I take the liberty of introducing myself? My name is Captain Shaw. I have just arrived from the other side. Had a very rough passage too, by Jove.

TOWN CLERK:
I see.

SHAW:
Bad show, you know, fearfully trying on the stomach. Frightful business if you don’t happen to be a good sailor.

TOWN CLERK:
(
Behind divan, rising and extending his hand.
) I’m terribly glad to meet you Captain Shaw. I won’t worry you with me own name because I’m only the Town Clerk of this town——

SHAW:
Ao!

TOWN CLERK:
(
Moving left towards fire.
) And this gentleman, Captain, is de Chairman. De Chairman of de Council, Captain.

SHAW:
Ao. (
He bows in a formal courtly way.
) Terribly charmed to meet you, I am sure.

KELLY:
(
Relaxing and perceiving an opportunity for further political ranting.
) I am glad to know you, Captain, very glad to have the privilege of your acquaintance. It always gives me pleasure to welcome to Ireland one of our cousins from across the wave.

(
TOWN CLERK
stands at fire.
)

SHAW:
Ao, really?

KELLY:
I always feel that in every visitor from England we have a unique opportunity to propagate amity and goodwill between the two islands, a chance to undo centuries of distrust and ill-feeling, a God-given opportunity to bring the simple and just claims of our land to the notice of the mighty nation that lives and has its being at the other side of the Irish Sea (
he advances
)—a chance, if I may make so bold as to say so, to show the English people, without malice or rancour, mark you, what they owe us before the sight of God and how they may pay it to us. In a work, how we may still be friends after seven dark centuries of oppression.

TOWN CLERK:
(
Impatiently, feeling that
KELLY’S
address is unsuitable.
) Yerrah, Chairman, that’s another story. That’s a different day’s work altogether. (
He sits down at fire.
)

SHAW:
(
Somewhat at sea.
) Yes, quite right, quite right. Quite right. (
He sits down uneasily.
)

KELLY:
(
Warming to his subject again.
) And please, Captain, let there be no misunderstanding on this matter. Some people will tell you that I am anti-English—

SHAW:
Ao!

KELLY:
—that I cherish for the great English nation nothing but venom . . . and scorn . . . and contempt.

SHAW:
Ao?

KELLY:
What is my answer? My answer is that nothing could be farther from the truth. It is a lie. For the land of England I cherish feelings of the warmest regard. For the people who dwell there, the love and respect that is due to their dignity as human beings, the admiration that is due to those who have worked hard and well in the pursuit of material, if not spiritual, happiness. But what shall I say of the class that is in power in that fair and fertile land?——

SHAW:
(
At sea.
) Ao?

TOWN CLERK:
(
With mock enthusiasm.
) Hear, hear! Hear, hear!

KELLY:
(
Accepting this as genuine and waxing even more rhetorical.
) What shall I say of those who are charged before God with the rule and government of the English nation, not to mention its dominions, dependencies, mandates and colonies beyond the seas? What shall I say of the corrupt, misguided, obtuse and venal time-servers, who have brought, through a travesty of justice and government, shame and dishonour on the British flag? With what scornful word or phrase shall I stigmatise at the bar of history the interventions of successive British Governments in the affairs of my own country—IRELAND, the lamp of civilisation at a time when Europe sat in darkness, cradle of the faith and home of the martyrs. With what pitiless and inexorable terminology will I lash and lash again these debased minions who have presumed to tamper with our historic race, to drive millions of our kith and kin in coffin-ships across the seven seas to dwell in an alien clime with the naked savage, who have destroyed our industries and our crafts and our right to develop our national resources, who have not hesitated to violate the sacred tabernacle of our nation to steal therefrom, defile and destroy our melodious and kingly language—THE IRISH LANGUAGE—our sole badge of nationhood, our only historic link with the giants of our national past—Niall of the Nine Hostages, who penetrated to the Alps in his efforts to spread the Gospel, Kind Cormac of Cashel, Confessor, Saint and lawgiver, heroic St. Laurence O’Toole who is the Patron Saint of Ireland’s greatest city, and Patrick Sarsfield, who rode by night to destroy, no matter at what risk to himself, the hated foreigner’s powder-train at Ballyneety! With what appalling and frightening curse, Captain Shaw, will I invoke the righteous anger of the Almighty against these wicked men who live in gilded palaces in England, cradled in luxury and licentious extravagance, knowing nothing and caring nothing for either the English masses, the historic and indefeasible Irish nation, the naked Negro in distant and distressed India or the New Zealand pigmy on his native shore? With what stern word will I invoke the righteous anger of Almighty God upon their heads, Captain Shaw?

TOWN CLERK:
Glory be to God!

SHAW:
(
Very uneasy.
) Really, old man, that’s a bit strong, you know. After all, you know, there are some very nice chaps in London. I wish you would meet some of my friends there. Of course, Ireland got a very poor show at one time, there is no getting away from that, the country was mishandled from the start. No country in the world would be more loyal if they got a good show. The English and the Irish should get together, you know, old man, because they’re nice people—damn nice people.

(
Pause.
KELLY
walks over and shakes the astonished
SHAW
by the hand.
)

KELLY:
And nobly said, Captain, I admire a man who will fight his corner. I respect a gallant foe. Please do not think that I am suggesting that all knavery, corruption and governmental incompetence is concentrated in the land of England. Alas, poor old Ireland has her own share of it too. In this country, too, Captain, we have the grossest abuses in high places. We have double-dealing, backstairs influences . . . cliques . . . (
he gestures
) . . . bad blood between brothers . . . corrupt and debased ruffians in every quarter working to sell the pass. . . .