OFlaherty V.C. | Page 5

head in this matter of Irish recruiting. What can I do but apologize, and
publish the play now that it can no longer do any good?

O'FLAHERTY V.C.
At the door of an Irish country house in a park. Fine, summer weather;
the summer of 1916. The porch, painted white, projects into the drive:
but the door is at the side and the front has a window. The porch faces
east: and the door is in the north side of it. On the south side is a tree in
which a thrush is singing. Under the window is a garden seat with an
iron chair at each end of it.
The last four bars of God Save the King are heard in the distance,
followed by three cheers. Then the band strikes up It's a Long Way to
Tipperary and recedes until it is out of hearing.
Private O'Flaherty V.C. comes wearily southward along the drive, and
falls exhausted into the garden seat. The thrush utters a note of alarm
and flies away. The tramp of a horse is heard.
A GENTLEMAN'S VOICE. Tim! Hi! Tim! [He is heard dismounting.]
A LABORER'S VOICE. Yes, your honor.
THE GENTLEMAN'S VOICE. Take this horse to the stables, will you?
A LABORER'S VOICE. Right, your honor. Yup there. Gwan now.
Gwan. [The horse is led away.]
General Sir Pearce Madigan, an elderly baronet in khaki, beaming with
enthusiasm, arrives. O'Flaherty rises and stands at attention.
SIR PEARCE. No, no, O'Flaherty: none of that now. You're off duty.
Remember that though I am a general of forty years service, that little
Cross of yours gives you a higher rank in the roll of glory than I can
pretend to.
O'FLAHERTY [relaxing]. I'm thankful to you, Sir Pearce; but I
wouldn't have anyone think that the baronet of my native place would
let a common soldier like me sit down in his presence without leave.
SIR PEARCE. Well, you're not a common soldier, O'Flaherty: you're a
very uncommon one; and I'm proud to have you for my guest here
today.
O'FLAHERTY. Sure I know, sir. You have to put up with a lot from
the like of me for the sake of the recruiting. All the quality shakes
hands with me and says they're proud to know me, just the way the

king said when he pinned the Cross on me. And it's as true as I'm
standing here, sir, the queen said to me: "I hear you were born on the
estate of General Madigan," she says; "and the General himself tells me
you were always a fine young fellow." "Bedad, Mam," I says to her, "if
the General knew all the rabbits I snared on him, and all the salmon I
snatched on him, and all the cows I milked on him, he'd think me the
finest ornament for the county jail he ever sent there for poaching."
SIR PEARCE [Laughing]. You're welcome to them all, my lad. Come
[he makes him sit down again on the garden seat]! sit down and enjoy
your holiday [he sits down on one of the iron chairs; the one at the
doorless side of the porch.]
O'FLAHERTY. Holiday, is it? I'd give five shillings to be back in the
trenches for the sake of a little rest and quiet. I never knew what hard
work was till I took to recruiting. What with the standing on my legs all
day, and the shaking hands, and the making speeches, and--what's
worse--the listening to them and the calling for cheers for king and
country, and the saluting the flag till I'm stiff with it, and the listening
to them playing God Save the King and Tipperary, and the trying to
make my eyes look moist like a man in a picture book, I'm that bet that
I hardly get a wink of sleep. I give you my word, Sir Pearce, that I
never heard the tune of Tipperary in my life till I came back from
Flanders; and already it's drove me to that pitch of tiredness of it that
when a poor little innocent slip of a boy in the street the other night
drew himself up and saluted and began whistling it at me, I clouted his
head for him, God forgive me.
SIR PEARCE [soothingly]. Yes, yes: I know. I know. One does get fed
up with it: I've been dog tired myself on parade many a time. But still,
you know, there's a gratifying side to it, too. After all, he is our king;
and it's our own country, isn't it?
O'FLAHERTY. Well, sir, to you that have an estate in it, it would feel
like your country. But the divil a perch of it ever I owned. And as to the
king: God