_At the back are a door and windows to the farmyard; another door L. to rooms. The fireplace is on the R., and a little beyond it is a cupboard, built in the wall._ _A table, an old armchair, and a few ordinary chairs have been brought over from the old house and are piled up in a corner._ _Time: A July night, about dusk._ _PAUL TWYNING, in white jacket and overalls, is mixing mortar on the floor with a shovel._ OLD DEEGAN [_off_]. Anybody here? PAUL. Yes, your worship; Paul’s here. _JAMES DEEGAN, J.P., a tall, grave old man, dressed in Gladstonian style, comes in from the yard._ OLD DEEGAN. Paul Twyning, I want to speak a word. PAUL. Well, your worship? OLD DEEGAN [_irritably_]. I have told you repeatedly not to “worship” me, sir! I’m not on the Bench now. PAUL. Well, sure I can’t bring myself to address you like an ordinary man. Let me call you “your honour.” Sure, south of the Boyne a big man like yourself--a farmer and magistrate--is called “your honour,” and looks for it. OLD DEEGAN. We in the North are more democratic.... But that’s not my errand here. What I want to know is--when will you be through with this plastering? PAUL. In three or four days, master, if I’m spared the health. I’m now at the cornishing in the parlour-room, and, as you see, I’m working overtime and attending myself. OLD DEEGAN. The sooner you’re done and out of this the better. PAUL. Of coorse! That’s a tradesman’s thanks the world over. DEEGAN. When I took you in--a tramp off the highway--it was to plaster my house, not to meddle in my family affairs. PAUL. Mr. Deegan, your honour, d’ye mean that? Is it in dead earnest you are? DEEGAN. Certainly so. PAUL. And when and how did I meddle in your family affairs? Out with it, now, for I won’t lie under it. DEEGAN. You had my son Daniel at a dance in M’Gothigan’s barn and without my permission. PAUL. But your other son--Pat, that has the pub. in the town--was at the dance himself and supplied the drink.... DEEGAN. That was a business transaction. Besides, Patrick is a married man, but this lad at home is single. PAUL. But the M’Gothigans are respectable people, and your lad, as you call him, is over forty years of age.... DEEGAN. My son Daniel is--like all the young men of his generation--graceless and without understanding. PAUL. Well, of coorse, I only know him a short time, your honour, but I’d formed a very high opinion of Dan. DEEGAN. No doubt.... But a tramp’s opinion of respectability and mine are different. [_Sternly._] I don’t want a daughter-in-law of your choosing, sir! PAUL. Nor, I suppose, of Dan’s either, your honour? DEEGAN. You have said it. Daniel will have no choice. [_Turning to go_] I’m going now to interview a suitable female to be his wife, and if she suits me, she’ll have to suit him, and you, and the M’Gothigans. [_He goes out back._]