Three Plays | Page 7

to chair at table, and sits away from him.
BRIAN (rising and going to her) But this night above all you must be
with me.
MAIRE (turning to him impulsively) Stay here and I'll be as nice to you
as if we were in another house. _(He kisses her. She rises and goes
from him)_ If you knew me at all, Brian MacConnell, that's not the way
you'd treat me.
BRIAN Are you not coming out with me?
MAIRE You must leave me to myself now. (Conn Hourican comes in)
Is Anne with you, father?
CONN She's gathering posies or something like that. Brian, did you
hear about the Feis at Ardagh?
MAIRE (with vehemence) Oh, what's the good of talking about that?
You can't go.
CONN Can't go, did you say, girl?
MAIRE Oh, how could you go?
CONN Is that the way? Well, God help us. Give me that fiddle till I
leave it up.
He takes the fiddle off dresser, and turns to go.
MAIRE Father, let me be with you to-night; oh, I'm sorry if I vexed
you. (No reply) Well, stay with Brian MacConnell; I'm going out to
Anne.
Maire goes out. Brian goes to rack, and puts on his coat.
BRIAN Are you coming, Conn? I'm off.
CONN Where to, man?

BRIAN To Flynn's.
CONN I can't be going, I'm sorry to say.
BRIAN I'm going anyway. It's a great thing to be in the company of
men.
CONN Ay, in troth. Women, Brian, leave the heart of one very
lonesome.
BRIAN (masterfully) Why can't you come out? I thought you were
going to-night.
CONN I can't, Brian, and that reminds me. Give these few shillings to
Flynn for me. I'll owe them to you still.
BRIAN I'm not going to be bothered by the like. Why can't you come?
CONN I promised Maire.
_Brian strides away. He turns, comes back deliberately, and sits on
table beside Conn_.
BRIAN They'll be all looking out for you at Flynn's.
CONN Well, the next time they see me they may respect me.
BRIAN Some of the boys will take it very unkindly. CONN They're
decent enough fellows, some of them.
BRIAN And above all nights they'll be watching out for you this night,
on account of the Sligomen.
CONN They're decent enough fellows, as I said, and I'll be sorry to
disappoint them.
BRIAN The Sligomen will have great stories about Shawn Heffernan.
CONN Shawn Heffernan! Is that impostor still alive?

BRIAN He is, and for fiddling these Sligomen think there's not the like
of him in the whole of Ireland.
CONN God help them if that's all they know. We played against each
other at the Granard Feis. He got the prize, but everybody knew that it
was me played the best.
BRIAN There's few of them alive now that mind of the Granard Feis.
He got the prize, and there's no talk of you at all.
CONN No talk of me at all?
BRIAN It's said that since you settled down you lost your art.
CONN And what had the men at Flynn's to say about that? BRIAN
They bragged about you for a while, but the Sligomen put them down.
CONN I wonder would we have time to go up, play a few tunes, and
come back, while Maire would be doing something? It would be a pity
not to give them fellows a lesson and close their ignorant mouths for
them. I wonder would we have time? (Anne comes in with Maire) I
thought you went somewhere and left Brian and myself here.
ANNE We're going somewhere and Brian might come with us.
MAIRE Every one is going to Moynihan's.
CONN It's a pleasant house, a pleasant house. Brian will make his
ceilidh [3] with me. We might go over a few tunes.
ANNE Let Brian come where there are girls that might miss him.
MAIRE Anne, you're a great one for keeping up the story that girls are
always thinking about men.
ANNE And so they are. Just as men are always thinking about girls.
MAIRE You'd make a good ribbonman.[4] You'd put a face on
anything you said.

[Footnote 3: Celidh, pronounced cayley, a visit.]
[Footnote 4: A ribbonman--a member of a secret agrarian society.]
ANNE Ribbonism and secret societies were denounced off the altar.
MAIRE Goodness! The men will begin to think they've secrets worth
telling.
ANNE Have you secrets worth telling, Brian?
MAIRE I daresay he has. There are foolish women in the world.
ANNE Are you coming to Moynihan's, Brian?
BRIAN No. I'm going where there's men.
MAIRE Come, Anne, till I deck you out. Come here, daughter, don't
wear flowers. I think they're unlucky. Here I am talking like this, and I
going to a dance. I suppose I'll