Three Plays | Page 9

Flynn's, I may tell you.
ANNE In troth we might have known that.
CONN But did you hear what happened to me?
ANNE How could we hear? It was Maire went to the door, and there
you were coming up the path; and we thinking you were in bed, resting
yourself.
CONN I went over to Flynn's, but I had good reason for going there.
(He puts the fiddle down on the table) Didn't you hear there were
Sligomen in the town, Maire? Well, one of them was in the way of
rewarding the prizes. I told you about the Feis; well, it's no matter now,
I'll say no more about that. At all events the man I mentioned wanted to
know what music was in the country, so he sent a message to myself.
ANNE (as satirical as she can be) That was kind of him.
CONN It was. I could do no less than go. I'll rest myself now, and then
get ready for the mowing. _(He goes to the room door; he turns again
and watches Maire)_ Maire, I'm sorry you weren't on the spot. You
might have advised me. I couldn't think of where you went or I'd have
followed you. I had to make haste.
MAIRE It's no matter at all now.
CONN I'll stretch myself on the bed before I begin work. Anne, did
you say you were leaving something in the room for me?
ANNE I suppose I'll have to leave the tea in the room for you.
She gets the tea ready. Maire remains motionless.

CONN Well, I have the pattern of daughters, anyway. I wouldn't give
this house for the praise of Ireland, no, not if they carried me on their
backs. (Anne takes the tea up to the room) It's a pity you weren't there,
Maire, though of course I wouldn't bring you into such a place. But
they were decent fellows, decent, warm-hearted fellows. If you were to
see their faces when I played _An Chaitin Donn_. I'll warrant they'll be
whistling it, though they never heard the tune before. And the manners
they have! I offered the fiddle to one of them. "No," says he, "not a
string will I touch while the master of us is here." That's something like
the spirit. _(Maire has turned to him and is attentive)_ But there, I
won't fill myself up with false music telling you about it all.
He turns to the room.
MAIRE Bring up your fiddle.
CONN (taking fiddle and going towards room again) It will be as good
as sound sleeping for me. I'll never forget it. Flynn will never forget it.
It will be the making of Flynn.
Maire rises.
MAIRE You've only your fiddle; we shouldn't forget that.
Conn goes up to the room. Maire turns to the fire. Anne comes down.
ANNE O Maire, what will become of us at all?
MAIRE He is very pleased with himself. He has only his fiddle, we
shouldn't forget that.
ANNE It will be a long time till he does the like again.
MAIRE It will be a long time, I suppose. Both of us might be in a
different house and have different cares.
ANNE That would be terrible. I'll never leave him, Maire. MAIRE You
can't say the like now.

ANNE Why?
MAIRE How could you take such things upon you and life stretching
out before you? You're not young enough, Anne. Besides, it's not what
we say; it's what we feel. No, it's not what we feel either; it's what
grows up in us.
ANNE He might never do the like again.
MAIRE Many's the time mother said that, and she and me lying
together.
ANNE Will we ever get out of it, Maire?
James enters.
MAIRE You have only a while to stay with us.
ANNE O James, what will your father say if he hears of you giving us
another day?
JAMES My father took a stick in his hand this morning, and went off
with himself.
MAIRE You're welcome, James. It was a pleasant time we had in your
house last evening.
JAMES I hope you liked the company, Maire. I'm afraid there was very
little to be called refined or scholarly, and the conversation at times was
homely enough. But we did our best, and we were proud to see you.
MAIRE Sit down, James.
_James sits on chair, near table. Maire is seated at fire, left of James.
Anne leans against table, right of him_.
JAMES Your father is outside, maybe?
MAIRE No. He's above in the room.

JAMES Yes. Practising, I suppose. Them that have the gift have to
mind the gift. In this country there isn't much thought for poetry, or
music, or scholarship. Still, a few of us know