Three Plays: The Fiddler's House, The Land, Thomas MuskerryColum, Padraic
General
Three Plays: The Fiddler's House, The Land, Thomas Muskerry
Colum, Padraic
Irish drama -- 20th century
ANNE
It leaves me very anxious.
CONN
I'll give you this advice, and it's proper advice to give to a
girl thinking of marrying. Never ask of your menkind where they're
going.
ANNE
The like of that brings bad luck on a house.
CONN
You have too much dead knowledge, and the shut fist never
caught a bird.
ANNE
I only wish you were settled down.
CONN
Sure I am settled down.
ANNE
I can't speak to you, after all.
CONN
You're a good girl, Anne, and he'll be lucky that gets you. And
don't be grieving that you're not bringing James Moynihan a fortune.
You're bringing him the decency of birth and rearing. You're like the
lone pigeon I often think--the pet that doesn't fly, and keeps near
the house.
ANNE
That's the way you always treat me, and I never can talk to you.
CONN
_(at window)_ Hush now, here's the other, your sister Maire.
She's like the wild pigeon of the woods. _(Maire Hourican comes in)_
We were discoursing on affairs, Maire. We won't be bringing Brian
MacConnell here tomorrow; there's only the bit at the back to be mown,
and I'll do that myself.
_Conn Hourican goes into the room right; soon after the fiddle is
heard. Anne goes to the settle, and takes up her knitting. Maire
takes her shawl off, and hangs it on the rack. Maire Hourican is
over twenty. She is tall, and has easy, graceful movements; her
features are fine and clear-cut; the nose is rather blunted, the
mouth firm. Her gaze is direct and clear. She has heavy auburn hair,
loose now, and falling. Maire comes down to the table, opens basket,
and takes some flowers from top. She turns to dresser and arranges
some of the flowers in a jar_.
MAIRE
We'd have no right to take another day from Brian. And when
there's no one here to-morrow, you and me could draw some of the turf.
ANNE
Your hair is loose, Maire.
_Maire goes to the mirror and fixes her hair_.
MAIRE
The wind blew it about me, and then I let it down. I came home
by the long way, just to feel young again with my hair about me.
ANNE
And did you meet any one?
MAIRE
Indeed I did. I met James Moynihan.
ANNE
James had to go early. They're building at his place.
MAIRE
Indeed they ought to let James build a house for himself. ANNE
Some day they will, Maire.
MAIRE But
we must not let some day be a far day.
ANNE
_(hesitatingly)_ I think I'll show you something.
MAIRE What is it, daughter?
_Anne rises and goes to the dresser. She opens drawer. Maire
watches her_.
MAIRE
_(waiting)_ I made a good girl out of you, anyway.
ANNE
You wouldn't let me use stroller words when we were on the road.
Do you mind of that?
MAIRE
I kept you to the mannerly ways. I have that to my credit.
ANNE
_(showing Maire the verses)_ Read that, Maire. It was James
that made it.
MAIRE
It's a song, I declare.
ANNE
No, Maire, it's a poem.
MAIRE
A poem? O, that's grand!
_She begins to read it eagerly_.
ANNE
And, Maire--
MAIRE
Well?
ANNE
James says it's about me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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