ACT II
The following day—forenoon.
A drinking-room in Patrick Deegan’s public-house. There is a door to the kitchen, one to the bar, and a side door to the yard.
PATRICK DEEGAN, a big, rough man with a whiskey nose, comes in from the bar, followed by PAUL TWYNING and DAN DEEGAN.
PATRICK. Now don’t all spake at once. Keep you your tongue in your teeth, Dan, and let Paul Twyning that has travelled the world and seen something in his time tell me about this calamity.… One thing we all know: if Mullan had the ould man on his knees, she never let him up till he settled the business.
MRS. DEEGAN, a grey-haired woman with a troubled face, looks in from the bar.
MRS. DEEGAN. Patrick dear, won’t you let me come in and hear the rest of it?
PATRICK. Away to blazes, you, and mind the bar! If I want your advice I’ll for send you. I never had an hour’s luck since the day I tane you.
MRS. DEEGAN. Well, well. Maybe you’ll get rid of me, and you’ll have good luck then. [She turns to go.]
PATRICK. Here! bring us a taste of something to drink.… What’s yours, Paul?
PAUL. Plain whiskey.
DAN. Me a wee taste of wine.
PATRICK. Wine the devil! [To MRS. DEEGAN] Three glasses of whiskey from the wee jar in the gas-meter. Fly now!
MRS. DEEGAN [comes back]. Patrick Deegan, are you wild mad? If you taste whiskey this day and your father coming in—I know what ’ill happen. He’ll sign this house over to Daisy Mullan, and we’ll be left homeless.…
PATRICK. Shut up your long face and bring the whiskey. Could I do business without a good rosener to steady me? Fly now.
MRS. DEEGAN. Oh, very well. You’ll see who’s right and who’s wrong before the chapel bell rings six. [She goes out to the bar.]
PATRICK. Take sates, boys. I couldn’t sit down myself, I’m that through-over.
PAUL and DAN sit down at the table. MRS. DEEGAN comes in with three glasses on a tray.
PAUL. Here’s good luck and good health.…
PATRICK. Don’t drink a minute, Paul. I want to ask you one question. Are you on our side or the ould man’s? Mind, a five-pound note never raired Pat Deegan. If you help me to manœuvre him into making me an assignment of this house the day—I’ll not forget a friend.
PAUL. I’m dead again the ould man on principle.
PATRICK. That’s the style, by Mozes! On what principle, Paul?
PAUL. That a man of seventy-five should be thinking about his sowl instead of his honeymoon.
PATRICK. A new proverb, by Mozes! We’ll drink to that afore we say another word. [Raising his glass] Here’s a plague on the ould Yankee Mullan that has brought all this trouble on quiet, dacent people.
All drink.
MRS. DEEGAN. Patrick dear, Jim’s in the bar. Won’t you let me stay and hear what you’re going to do?
PATRICK. Aye, certainly, Janey.… Heth, I don’t know who has a better right to hear the outs and ins of it than my own Janey. [MRS. DEEGAN sits.] Now, Paul, you’re the man I want to hear. What’s your opinion of the whole tragedy?
PAUL. Well, in the first place, I think your father—God forgive him—has treated his fine family worse than the mud on the road. Four sons and two daughters banished, the boy Dan about to be pushed out with the grey ribs in his hair, and yourself a cottier with no more fixity of tenure than one of Clanricarde’s tenants in the evil days.
PATRICK [grabs MRS. DEEGAN]. D’ye hear that? D’ye hear what a smart man that has paraded the world says? Is them my own words a-fifty times over?
MRS. DEEGAN. Oh, indeed, many a time you said that, Patrick.
PATRICK. Purceed, Paul.
PAUL. And the worst—the saddest feature of all—James Deegan is an able man.
PATRICK. Able! A man that shook hands with Parnell himself. A man that addressed the gowned judges in the Four Courts of Dublin. Aye, by Mozes, he’s an able man!
PAUL. But, like every great man of ancient or modern times, James Deegan has made a mess in the last lap.
PATRICK. Aye, look at ould Gladstone, and Parnell himself.
PAUL. I almost despair of my own sex when I see James Deegan—a white-haired man, as grave and solemn as his own memorial—making love on his two knees to an ould washed-out Yankee cook.
PATRICK. By Mozes, it’s no wonder you despair.
MRS. DEEGAN. Now you’ll blether on till he comes in. Then you’ll have less to say.
PAUL. The lady is right. He’ll be in soon, for we passed him and his fiancée in the trap within half a mile of town. Myself and Dan were in the creamery-waggon, and we covered up with empty sacks that he wouldn’t see us.
MRS. DEEGAN. In God’s name, will Daisy Mullan take him?
PAUL. Would a duck swallow a dew-worm?
MRS. DEEGAN. Has she property in America?
PAUL. I don’t know about the property, but she has more deeds and documents in her vanity-bag than would do the Congested Districts Boord.… And she’ll have more before night comes, for he’ll sign the farm over to her this day in front of an attorney.…
PATRICK. Oh, my head, my head! [Holds his head.] By Mozes, I’m wake!
MRS. DEEGAN. Why didn’t you take her yourself, Dan, if she wants a man?
PAUL. Poor Dan has his own troubles.… Isn’t he pledged to Rose M’Gothigan?
PATRICK. What! Pledged to who?
PAUL. Keep cool now, for pity’s sake.… How could Dan be wise and his father a fool? He’d the misfortune to speak to Rose, and she consented.…
PATRICK [reaching for DAN]. For two straws I’d bring the win’pipe out in my hand! I see it all now. You were sitting humpt up beside her the whole night of the dance.… It’s you has riz the devil in the ould man.… [Reaches again.] I’ll fetch the win’pipe.…
DAN. Don’t touch me now! I’m in flames, if I’ll stand it.
PAUL. Leave Dan alone, Patrick. Isn’t he well enough punished, and he about to be shipped to a foreign shore?
JIM DEEGAN, a thin boy of eighteen, comes in from the bar.
JIM. I say, I say! My granda’s away driving up the street, with a woman in the trap.…
PATRICK. And did he not think worth his while to stop at the door?
JIM. He never looked in as much as.
PAUL. He’s taking Daisy up to the bank. She has a Yankee draft to cash, and he’s going to endorse it.
PATRICK. He’ll rue that, by Mozes! I never seen a Yankee draft yet worth tuppence. [To JIM] Away you out to the bar, boy.… Away now, afore I lift something and split your skull.
JIM. What’s wrong, da?
PATRICK. Away, and don’t ask so many questions. You’d talk as much as your mother.… Away—afore I lift this table and brain you.
JIM. Is my granda going to marry that woman, da?
PATRICK. Aye, he wants a wife instead of a coffin.… Go on, now, like a good wee son, and mind the bar. That’s a boy!
JIM. And will he not lay me the farm—and me called for him?
DAN. Flames to you! what right have you to the farm?
JIM. Da, won’t you.…
PATRICK. Will you go and mind the bar? [Makes a race at him.] By Mozes, I’ll lame you! [JIM runs out.] Your mother has you spoiled.
PAUL [rising]. I don’t want the ould man to know I’m in the town at all, for he left me plastering the parlour room.… I’ll sit in the kitchen and sip a bottle of stout.… Come along, Dan.
PAUL and DAN go off right.
PATRICK. This is a tragedy! Daisy Mullan ’ill revenge herself on me.…
MRS. DEEGAN [rising]. What has Daisy Mullan against you?
PATRICK. I coorted her awhile about thirty years ago.
MRS. DEEGAN. Och, she was lucky didn’t get you. She’ll have forgot all about it.
PATRICK. Will she indeed! She’ll mind it rightly. [Looks wild.] I’ll go and get blind drunk.…
MRS. DEEGAN. You’ll do nothing of the kind. You’ll leave everything to me. Who knows but this is all for good? If he ships Dan, we might be able to stop the wedding, and then Jim would get the farm after all.
PATRICK. If you can manage that I’ll buy you the best pair of slippers in Ballybullion. I will, by Mozes!
JIM rushes in.
JIM. I say, I say! My granda’s away into the yard … the woman’s in the bank. And Denis M’Gothigan and his daughter Rose is away into Attorney Dawson’s.…
MRS. DEEGAN. Well, well! One thing at once. You’re like all the Deegans—you won’t make anything smaller. [To PATRICK] Go out, Patrick, and help your father to put in the mare … and don’t let on you know a ha’porth.
PATRICK. I’ll be as nice as ninepence at first. But if he doesn’t sign this house over to me this day I’ll give him and ould Daisy a wedding-present, by Mozes! [Goes out the side-door to the yard.]
JIM. Ma, what’s wrong?
MRS. DEEGAN. Don’t bother me, son.
JIM. My granda looks powerful stern.
MRS. DEEGAN. Well, be you very glad to see him when he comes in, and remind him that you’re called for him.
JIM. Heth, I will, ma. But if he doesn’t lay me the farm or gimme six hunnert pound, I’ll tell him another story some day!
MRS. DEEGAN [with energy]. Here, listen to me. Take the wee bottle and sixpence, and tell the druggist to fill it for your ma.… And don’t let anybody see what you’re getting.… Just slip the wee bottle to the druggist. He’ll know what you want.
JIM. All right, ma. [Goes out quickly.]
MRS. DEEGAN [removes the tray]. He’ll sign nothing over to Daisy Mullan this day if I can stop it!… The old viper—what does he want with a woman?
OLD DEEGAN comes in at the side door. He carries a whip and a rug, and is looking very spry.
DEEGAN. Well, how’s all here?
MRS. DEEGAN [fussing]. Och, granda dear, and is this yourself! [Shakes hands and laughs.] Upon my word, granda, you’re getting fresher looking every day.
DEEGAN. I’m like the eagles, I’m renewing my youth. [Lays down the whip and rug and sits down at the table.]
MRS. DEEGAN. It’s nothing short of a miracle—at your great age. I suppose you’re hard on eighty, granda.
DEEGAN. A man is just as old as he feels. I feel hard on twenty-five.
JIM rushes in, and slips the bottle to his mother.
JIM. Och, is this my wee granda!
MRS. DEEGAN. Yes, you’ll be happy now. You’ve been wishing and wishing your granda would come in.
JIM. Och, my dear granda! [Hugs him.] My own dear granda that I’m called for. Amn’t I, granda?
DEEGAN [gives him a penny]. There’s a penny for yourself. Go and buy liquorice-ball.
JIM. Ah, thanks, granda. It takes yourself. [Tries to kiss him.] You’ll lay me more than a penny some day. Won’t you, granda?
DEEGAN. We’ll see. Go now and buy liquorice-ball. You’re getting too old for this baby-talk.
JIM. It’s because I love my granda.… [Goes out with hanging lip.]
MRS. DEEGAN. You oughtn’t to cut him, granda. He’s that doted on you.
DEEGAN. He’s like all the rest, he’s doted on my last will and testament.
MRS. DEEGAN. May God forgive you, James Deegan, for thinking such a thing, let alone say it!
DEEGAN [shrugs]. We won’t discuss it further.… Have you seen Daniel?
MRS. DEEGAN. He’s about the house somewhere.
DEEGAN. I suppose he has emptied his stomach?
MRS. DEEGAN. Och, he was talking as usual, but I was busy and paid no attention. Poor Dan has always a long story about the cruel way you treat him.
DEEGAN. You are a wise woman—and a rare woman—to pay no attention to stories.… Send Daniel to me. He’s in the kitchen.
MRS. DEEGAN. Och, granda, won’t you take a wee taste of something after the drive?
DEEGAN. Not at present. I have important legal business to transact to-day, and I always make it a rule to keep the mind clear for business.… Tell Daniel to come forth.
MRS. DEEGAN. You were always a great business man, granda. I wish your sons had taken after you.
DEEGAN. My sons were graceless and without understanding. Send Daniel to me.
MRS. DEEGAN goes to the kitchen, and PATRICK comes in.
PATRICK. Heth, that mare’s in big fettle, father. But she needs a wee bit off her mane and tail.
DEEGAN. Her mane and tail will do me very well. But what about yourself? You’ve had another big spill since I was here.
PATRICK [lamely]. It was the fair day, and I got a wee taste too much. But I’ve tane the pledge for life, and means to keep it.…
DEEGAN. Silence, sir! How dare you stand there and tell me you have the pledge for life! Couldn’t I smell your breath the moment I entered the yard?…
PATRICK. Aye, so you’re right. I tane a wee thim’leful this morning.…
DEEGAN. Patrick Deegan, beware! I may have to answer at the Bar of Judgment for putting you in a public-house. Take this from me as final. One other burst and I’ll put this licensed property to the hammer.
PATRICK. I could curse the day you ever put me in it.
DEEGAN. And I have been cursing the day ever since.
PATRICK. If you’d gimme the property at first and let me run it my own way, I’d be a different man the day.
DEEGAN. A different man indeed! You’d be in the graveyard or the madhouse many a year ago. [Stands up.] But since you’ve raised the question, I’ll settle it now, once for all. Then you’ll know where you stand.
PATRICK. That’s all I want to know.
DEEGAN. Your name will never be in the deed of this property.… You know now.
PATRICK. Say that again!
DEEGAN. If I don’t sell the house, I’ll leave it to your crafty wife, and she in turn will leave it to her crafty son. There now. That’s your settlement. [Sits.]
PATRICK [foaming]. The day you do that I’ll burn it to ashes—I will, by Mozes!
DEEGAN. And welcome. It’s well insured.
PATRICK [boils over]. Aye, maybe it is.… Maybe it’s well insured.… I know nothing about that.… I’m only the tenant. But I know this much. You’d better insure yourself. D’ye hear me? Insure yourself … and your ould Yankee trooper.…
DAISY comes in from the bar, her face flaming.
DAISY. Patrick Deegan, who are you calling names to? Is it me, is it? Am I the old Yankee trooper, am I?
PATRICK. Shut up! or I’ll hinch you as far as I can hinch you out the middle of the street.
MRS. DEEGAN rushes in.
MRS. DEEGAN. What’s wrong—what’s wrong?
DAISY. James Deegan, am I to be treated in this low-down manner, am I? Is this how you mean to protect me as your wife, is it?
DEEGAN [stands up]. Patrick Deegan, you have done a bad day’s work for yourself and for those who come after you.…
PATRICK [wildly]. Ah, shut up, you! You’re the great man that shook hands with Parnell himself! You’re the great lawyer that addressed the gowned judges in the Four Coorts of Dublin!… And here you are at last—tane up with an ould Yankee ballad-singer, by Mozes! [MRS. DEEGAN grabs PATRICK and drags him out, he shouting] Ould Yankee trooper.… Ould ballad-singer.… Ould mazawatty.
MRS. DEEGAN gets him dragged out to the bar.
DAISY. James dear, these folks don’t want me. That woman hates me like a snake. See the look in her eyes, and she snarls so. [Sits down.]
DEEGAN. She may snarl, but she can’t bite. Before we leave the town you’ll be her landlady. [Sits down.]
DAISY. Oh, James, how good you are. [Looks about her.] And you bet I’ll see they keep this place in order.
MRS. DEEGAN hurries in with two glasses on a tray.
MRS. DEEGAN. Granda, dear, you know what Patrick is? He’s that hasty. [To DAISY] He wouldn’t hurt your feelings for the world, Miss Mullan. [Laughs drily.] Och, sure, from what I hear, you’ll soon be one of the family.
DAISY. Yaas! and a nice family reception I’m gitting. An old Yankee trooper, no less.
MRS. DEEGAN. Och, who would heed Patrick Deegan?… I wish you both many happy days.… This is just a wee taste to wet the match. A wee special for you, granda, and a port for you, Miss Mullan.
DAISY. I sure want something after that unholy racket. [To OLD DEEGAN] Drink that up, dear. It’ll do you good.
Both drink.
MRS. DEEGAN. I hope you’ll give us the big day soon. [Picks up the tray.] I’ll leave you now.… Three’s a crowd. [She goes out smiling.]
DAISY. That’s a cruel, cruel woman, Jimes. Ain’t she, dear?
DEEGAN. A crafty lady.… You had no trouble at the bank?
DAISY. Why, I should say not. The manager, a real nice man, he just glanced at your endorsement and smiled pleasant. [Opens the vanity-bag.] I got the whole wad right here. [Shows him the roll of paper money.]
DEEGAN. That’s too much money to carry on your person. You ought to have left it—or part of it—in the bank.
DAISY. Not on your life, dear. My next haul can stay in the bank, but every cent of this is going into our noo home for nice furniture and nifty wall-paper and carpets [putting the money back in the bag]. I told you I was going to make you happy and comfortable, and you bet I am.
JIM rushes in.
JIM. Och, my new grandma! My bonny wee Yankee grandma! [Tries to hug DAISY.]
DAISY [pushing him off]. Who the goldarn are you? [Stands up.]
JIM. Och, don’t you know me? I’m called for my granda.… Amn’t I, granda? Amn’t I your favourite grandchild?
DAISY. Go on—beat it. We don’t want you here at all. You’re too darned sweet to be wholesome.…
JIM. Och, you don’t know me, grandma.…
DAISY. Nor I don’t want to. Go on—git! We can spare you. Skidoo. [Sits down.]
DEEGAN. Where is Uncle Daniel, boy?
JIM. Him and Paul Twyning’s in the kitchen, drinking mulled porter.
DEEGAN. Oh, indeed! Has Paul followed the scent?
DAISY. Ain’t that for you now! And we left him plastering the room!
JIM. Him and Uncle Dan came in the creamery waggon—covered up with empty bags that you couldn’t see them.
DEEGAN. Send both to me.
JIM. Heth, I will. It’s nice to be doing something for my dear granda. [Dashes off to the kitchen.]
DAISY. Say, that’s a fearfully sloppy kid, ain’t he?
DEEGAN. The mother puts him up to it.
PAUL staggers in, followed by DAN.
PAUL [in a tipsy voice]. Here we are again, as large as life! And anyone that doesn’t like my gait needn’t swing on it.
DEEGAN. Paul Twyning, what are you doing in the town?
PAUL. I’m waiting for the first train to Dublin. [Sings]
DEEGAN. You’re drunk, sir.
PAUL. Not quite, but feeling nicely.… And musically inclined. [Sings]
DEEGAN. Silence, sir!
PAUL. Silent, O Moyle, be the roar of thy waters.
DEEGAN. Aren’t you going back to finish the plastering?
PAUL. Most emphatically never. And I’ll tell you why. I don’t want my name appearing in these morbid breach of promises cases, and I won’t have it. [Takes the spatula from his pocket.] I’ve my tools and all here.… [Sings]
DEEGAN. Be quiet, sir!
PAUL. Well, without setting it to music, I’m quit!
DAN. I’m in flames, but I’m for Dublin too! I can go wi’ Paul and be his attender.…
DEEGAN [stands up]. What is that you say, boy?
DAN [cowering]. Oh, whatever you say yourself, fader.
DEEGAN. Come with me. I’ll let you see the Dublin you’re bound for. [Walks unsteadily towards the door.]
DAN. The emigration agent!
DAISY. Say, Jimes, ship him Red Star. It’s sure a smart service. I got here in eight days.…
DAN. I wish to God, amen, you’d went to the bottom of the sea!
DEEGAN [returns unsteadily to his chair]. My head feels somewhat light. [Sits down.]
DAISY. Same here, Jimes.… [Her hat tilts to one side.] A sort of dopey feeling.…
PATRICK ushers in MR. O’HAGAN.
PATRICK [in a surly voice]. Atturney Hagan to see you.
O’HAGAN. I was just setting out for your place, Mr. Deegan, when I heard you were in town. [Shakes hands.] How’s the health?
DEEGAN. Very well, thank you. What can I do for you?
O’HAGAN. Haven’t you a son named Daniel?
DEEGAN. Unfortunately I have.
O’HAGAN. Well, seems he has got himself mixed up with Rose M’Gothigan—a daughter of Denis’s.
DAN. It’s a falsehood! I never spoke to the girl in my life.
O’HAGAN. Oh, is this the boy himself? [Smiles at DAN.] The girl tells a different story, Dan. She and her father are in about law this morning.…
DAN. Let them law away.… I’m stainless. Get the prayer-book and swear me.…
O’HAGAN [to OLD DEEGAN]. Denis M’Gothigan has the ball at his own toe this time, Mr. Deegan. What are we going to do about it?
DEEGAN. Fight it.
DAN. That’s right, fader. Fight it.
O’HAGAN. If you take my advice you’ll give the girl a few pounds and settle it.
DAN. In God’s name do, fader. Settle it. You never know what they might swear.
DEEGAN [to O’HAGAN]. This thick-witted boy has nothing.
PAUL. Oh, he has something—he has a guilty conscience. I heard him with my own ears popping the question, and saw him with my own eyes putting the ring on her finger. If that isn’t a clear case for the plaintiff, I’ll eat my spatula.
O’HAGAN. Now, Mr. Deegan, you hear that yourself. You wouldn’t be mad enough to fight a case like that. [He whispers to PATRICK, who goes out.] We must settle this case, James. We haven’t a leg to stand on.
DAISY [in a sleepy voice]. Se’l it, dear … se’l it. We don’t want no law-suits … we want peace.
PATRICK brings in DENIS M’GOTHIGAN and ROSE.
O’HAGAN. Now, Denis, you have no case. But Mr. Deegan doesn’t want to strive with a good neighbour.…
DENIS. Ho! Is this the Four Courts?
O’HAGAN. It’s just as well for you it isn’t the Four Courts, or you’d go home broke.
DENIS. Whisht! If we’ve no case, it would be a pity to take up your valuable time. [Takes ROSE’S hand.] Come on, m’ gerril. The Lord Chancellor O’Hagan says we’ve no case. That ring on your finger and that conversation-lozenger in your pocket is sadly agen us.… [Leads ROSE towards the door.]
O’HAGAN. Come back, Denis. You’re very quick at running away. It’s my opinion you don’t want a settlement. But you must be saved from yourself.… Dan Deegan has nothing. A man of straw. But his father is ready to consider a settlement.…
DENIS [leading ROSE back]. That’s better whiskey, Mr. Hagan. That’s a lash better than having no case at all.
O’HAGAN. Now, now, Denis. Don’t be too sarcastic. If we reach a settlement there must be no bitterness after.… Now, Denis, we’re prepared without prejudice to offer your daughter five pounds.
DENIS. Yaha! yaha! Well, damn my picther if that’s not the best joke ever you cracked, Hagan. [To ROSE] Come on, gerril. I can buy you a pair of garters without these damages.…
O’HAGAN. Then stand and say it yourself, Denis.
DENIS. Well. Without prejudice, three hundert pounds in goold.
O’HAGAN. Ah, bosh! No jury would give you more than a tenner, and then you couldn’t get tenpence from Dan.
DENIS. I could rid the country of him.
DEEGAN. I’ll do that without you. I’m shipping him myself.
DAN [sobbing]. I don’t want to crass the seas.… I’m too ould, and I’m no skolard.…
DENIS. You’re not too ould to destroy young gerrils!… You and your conversation-lozengers is a danger to the parish.
DAN [weeping]. Don’t paint me blacker than I am, Denis. [Sobs quietly.]
O’HAGAN. This is a very pathetic case. The poor boy doesn’t want to leave the green hills and dales of holy Ireland.
DENIS. He should lave the gerrils alone, well.
O’HAGAN. Ah, for shame, Denis. You were young yourself.… Any white jury would forgive Dan for passing a lozenger to lovely Rose M’Gothigan.… Look at the eye in her head. One glance of it would kill a man like the lightning. [To ROSE] I’ll engage you wouldn’t like to see your Willy Reilly banished—would you, now?
ROSE. Indeed no, sir. [Sniffs.] It’s not me that’s driving him across the seas.
DAN. God bliss you, Rose, amen!
DENIS. Be quiet, gerril! I’ll have noan of this saft nonsense.… I know right well what O’Hagan’s flowery talk amounts to.…
PAUL [rising]. Let Paul Twyning speak a word.… The solution of this problem is as plain as the nose on your face. Let James Deegan and Denis M’Gothigan give the lovers a modest start in life—sure, the costs of a Dublin law-suit would buy them ten acres and a cow.
DENIS. I’m game. I’m raisonable.
O’HAGAN. Now, Mr. Deegan, what do you say?
DEEGAN. If one penny would buy them a freehold I wouldn’t give it.
PAUL [hotly]. No, bedamned to you for a pig-headed, selfish ould slave-driver! You’d sooner put them aboord the emigrant ship.
O’HAGAN. Oh, oh! This is going too far.
DEEGAN. Not at all. Let the vagrant have his say.
PAUL. And the vagrant shall have his say! Ireland, north, south, east, and west, is lowzy with your kind. There was more happiness on the Irish homestead when you were paying the rack-rent and eating the lumpers.
PATRICK. Oh, the holy truth!
PAUL. Since the ould generation of farmers got cheque-books, they never smiled again.
PATRICK. Oh, Mozes, true!
PAUL. The omnipotent God knows what you’ll be like if ever you get Home Rule. I wouldn’t like to be Dan Deegan and vote Labour.
DAN. Devil a vote you’d have if you were me.
PAUL. But I’d like well to be the first Irish Chancellor. Then I’d bring back the smile to the ould Deegan faces. I’d give them just what acres they could till, at a smart rent to the States, and there’d be plenty of land left for the boys.
O’HAGAN. That’s Lalor.
PAUL. And it’s Twyning, too!
DEEGAN. And it’s everybody like you—tramps and paupers.
PAUL. Including your son Dan, who is more destitute and hopeless than any tramp or pauper I’ve met. [Points at DAN.] Just look at that product of yourself and ninety-five acres of freehold. No more spine in his back than a lizard, and so bulldozed and browbeaten that he’d swear a lie before he’d own the simplest truth.
DAN. It’s the God’s holy truth, amen.
PAUL. Standing there with grey head and shaking limbs, you’d think he’d killed a priest instead of given a conversation-lozenger to Rose M’Gothigan. [Loudly] And Dan Deegan is legion. And Ould Deegan is legion. You drive the youth to the four winds, and then bleat and pray and send them shamrocks in exile.… Ah, gimme a drink somebody.
PATRICK [rising]. Come on wi’ me, Paul! By Mozes, you’re as powerful as Paul and the Corinthians! [He lugs PAUL out to the bar.]
DEEGAN. There’s a Labour leader lost in that frothy scoundrel.
O’HAGAN. There is some truth in him, too. So let us profit by it.… Now, Denis, what is the very lowest figure you can accept?
DENIS. Three hundert pound—in goold.
O’HAGAN. Good lord! [To OLD DEEGAN] Mr. Deegan, how far are you prepared to go?
DEEGAN. A single penny of mine will never rattle in a M’Gothigan’s pocket.
DENIS. Come on, Rose. We’ll see the Four Courts, after all.
ROSE. Good-bye, Dan.
DAN. Good-bye, Rose, amen.
DENIS and ROSE go out.
DEEGAN [to DAN]. Step you out to the yard, sir. I want to speak with Mr. O’Hagan.
DAN. Yes, fader. [Goes out.]
DAISY. Jimes, I feel awful sleepy and queerish.… I believe that wine was doped, I do.
DEEGAN. I’m certain of it. My own feet and legs are tingling, but the mind is clear.
MRS. DEEGAN comes in.
MRS. DEEGAN. You’ll take a cup of tea, granda?
DEEGAN. I want first to know what you put in that drink you gave us?
MRS. DEEGAN. Lord bless us, granda! Such a question to ask me. It was a fresh bottle.…
DEEGAN. That will do. I’ve heard drug stories about this house, but now I’m convinced.
DAISY. I’m darned sure you put suthin in my port.… Dope or suthin.… I can’t keep my eyes awake.
MRS. DEEGAN. Ach, you’re beside yourselves, the both of you! [Goes out to the kitchen.]
DEEGAN. Mr. O’Hagan, this lady, Miss Mullan, and I have arranged to get married. She has considerable property in America, and I want to make her an assignment of these licensed premises and the farm.
O’HAGAN. As from your marriage day?
DEEGAN. Exactly so.
O’HAGAN [shakes hands with DAISY]. Congratulations, Miss Mullan.
DAISY. Thank you. I guess I’ll want a good smart lawyer to look after my interests in America.
O’HAGAN. Your husband will be able to direct you to an excellent man. [To DEEGAN] You want this matter arranged to-day, Mr. Deegan?
DEEGAN. Immediately. Then the M’Gothigans can proceed with their writs.
O’HAGAN. By Jove, good!… You didn’t attend the Four Courts for nothing.
DAISY. Ain’t he jest a dandy! I’m sure proud of my fiancé.
O’HAGAN. I’ll have the document ready in a few minutes. Will you come across to the office and sign?
DEEGAN. If I’m not there when it’s ready, you can bring it over here.
O’HAGAN. With pleasure. [Goes out.]
DAISY. Jimes dear, we must coax Paul Twyning to come back and finish the plastering, else our marriage will be held up for weeks.
DEEGAN. I have thought of that. We must get the ruffian back.
He rings a small bell on the table, and JIM rushes in.
JIM. Och, does my dear grandpa want me? [Tries to kiss him.] You are not angry at me, granda? sure you’re not?
DAISY. Give him a keek, Jimes! Hully gee, he does make me hot!… Look ahyar, slobber! you get your message and beat it. Go while the going’s good.
JIM. It’s a great sin for you to put in between granda and his favourite grandchild.
DAISY. Here, skip! Else I’ll rise and fetch you one.
DEEGAN. Be off, boy. Tell Paul Twyning to come here.
JIM. My granda … has turned clean agen me.… [Goes out sniffing.]
DAISY. Shucks! that kid gives me a bilious attack. I’d love to hitch him to a post and whale the everlasting daylight out of him.
PAUL staggers in.
PAUL [with a grand gesture].
I forget the rest of it at the moment.…
DEEGAN. Never mind the rest of it. Are you coming back to finish the plastering?
PAUL. My answer is No.
DAISY. But I say y’are! And I’m going to make it worth your while to.… [She opens the vanity-bag.]
OLD DEEGAN leans back and falls asleep.
PAUL. Of course, a request from a young bride-to-be puts a different complexion on it.
DAISY [takes out the roll of money and hands PAUL a pound-note]. Thar’s five dollars.
PAUL. With all due respect to the dollars—this is a pound-note.
DAISY. Yaas; that’s five dollars.
PAUL [bowing]. The strike is over. Work in all departments will commence to-morrow morning. [Looking at OLD DEEGAN] Is your fiancé asleep?
DAISY. I reckon he’s dozing—and I’m jest dying to. [Yawns.]
PAUL. Well, don’t let me keep you awake. [Goes to the bar door and stands with the knob in his hand.]
DAISY [yawning]. Ah, yah, my … I could jest … sleep.… [Leans back and sleeps.]
PAUL [goes over and blows gently in their faces]. Have you crossed the Rubicon? [No answer.] Do you not hear Cupid himself speaking to you? [No answer. After a pause, he takes the roll of money and other papers from DAISY’S bag and slips out the side door.]
MRS. DEEGAN comes in, with tea on a tray.
MRS. DEEGAN. Lord save us! [Lays down tray.] Wake up and take this cup of tea. [Pause.] Wake up. [She glances nervously about the kitchen, then goes through DAISY’S bag and finds it empty. She calls PATRICK from the bar.]
PATRICK [coming in]. What’s wrong here?… Did you dose them?
MRS. DEEGAN. Not so loud—you fool!
PATRICK. It would be no harm to see what ould Daisy has in the bag.…
MRS. DEEGAN. For shame, man! Would you stoop to such a thing?
PATRICK. I’d stoop to anything this minute.… Take away that tray.
MRS. DEEGAN goes out with the tray, and PATRICK goes through DAISY’S bag.
Not a rupee, by Mozes!
O’HAGAN, PAUL and DAN come in from the bar.
O’HAGAN [document in hand]. What’s the matter? Are they drunk or sleeping?
PATRICK. They’re both. They killed a whole bottle of spacial whiskey.
MRS. DEEGAN comes in.
O’HAGAN. I want his signature to this paper.
MRS. DEEGAN. Granda’s not in a fit condition to sign any paper.
PATRICK. Now, Hagan, I know and you know what’s in that paper. You’d lay me out on the street.
OLD DEEGAN wakes up and sits, listening.
O’HAGAN. I can’t help that, Patrick.
PAUL. Give me room to speak a word.… Mr. O’Hagan, you live straight across the street, and many a bright pound Patrick Deegan has sent your way in the last twenty years. Is that right?
O’HAGAN. Quite right. Many a pound indeed.
PAUL. And many another he could throw your way in the next twenty years. Is that so?
O’HAGAN. Quite true.
PAUL. Now, I make bould to say that you’ve no sympathy with your moribund client marrying on the edge of the grave and robbing his own childer?
O’HAGAN. I certainly don’t think it’s right.
PAUL. Then it’s your duty to stop the match. Your duty to your client, to your neighbour, and yourself. And Patrick Deegan will make it worth your while both now and now-after.
PATRICK. Paul, I know you’re a smart man, but I can’t see what you’re driving at.
PAUL. No, God help you altogether, you’re a dull lot. Why, James Deegan, in his present state of coma, will sign one paper as fast as another—if his hand is properly held—and I suggest, Mr. O’Hagan, that we assign the farm to Dan and the pub. to Patrick.
PATRICK [grabs PAUL’S hand]. My life on you, ould Dublin!
MRS. DEEGAN. Yes, Paul Twyning has a head on him. He’s not all splutter and nonsense.
PAUL. Now, Mr. O’Hagan, what do you say to it? Deegan brothers will give you ten pounds apiece.
MRS. DEEGAN. Patrick will give twenty and Dan thirty.
PAUL. Fifty pounds, Mr. O’Hagan. No lawyer since the Stone Age ever refused fifty pounds.
O’HAGAN. Then I’ll be first to gain the distinction. I disapprove of James Deegan’s plans, but that’s his own affair. I won’t sell my old client in his sleep.
DEEGAN [yawns]. Thank you, Mr. O’Hagan. You’re your father’s son.
PAUL. We were only trying to tempt him, Mr. Deegan, but he’s incorruptible.… God works wonders now and then. Here stands a lawyer an honest man.
DEEGAN [rubs his eyes]. I suppose you want my signature, Mr. O’Hagan?
O’HAGAN. Yes, sir. This is ready. [Takes out his fountain-pen.]
DEEGAN. I’ll sign in one moment. [Rises unsteadily and wakes DAISY.] Wake up! This is no place to fall asleep.
DAISY. Yea … eh? … what?
DEEGAN. Wake up. We’re going home.
DAISY sits up and arranges her hat.
OLD DEEGAN puts on his specs., scans the document, and signs it.
DAISY [screams]. Oh, Jimes! Oh, gee! My money and papers—six hundred pounds—all gone! Stolen!
DEEGAN [scans the faces about him; then to DAISY]. Your money and papers are not far away. [Looks hard at PATRICK and MRS. DEEGAN.] Neither is the thief!
PATRICK staggers against the wall, and MRS. DEEGAN faints on the floor.
PAUL [loudly]. Water! water! And brandy for me!