Short Plays

us, and come in before we’d done. Coming to the table. It’s a long time we’ll be, and the two of us crying. Nora Goes to the inner door and listens. She’s moving about on the bed. She’ll be coming in a minute. Cathleen Give me the ladder, and I’ll put them up in the turf-loft, the way she won’t know of them at all, and maybe when the tide turns she’ll be going down to see would he be floating from the east. They put the ladder against the gable of the chimney; Cathleen goes up a few steps and hides the bundle in the turf-loft. Maurya comes from the inner room. Maurya Looking up at Cathleen and speaking querulously. Isn’t it turf enough you have for this day and evening? Cathleen There’s a cake baking at the fire for a short space throwing down the turf, and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes to Connemara. Nora picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven. Maurya Sitting down on a stool at the fire. He won’t go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He won’t go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely. Nora He’ll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and Stephen Pheety and Colum Shawn saying he would go. Maurya Where is he itself? Nora He went down to see would there be another boat sailing in the week, and I’m thinking it won’t be long till he’s here now, for the tide’s turning at the green head, and the hooker’s tacking from the east. Cathleen I hear someone passing the big stones. Nora Looking out. He’s coming now, and he’s in a hurry. Bartley Comes in and looks round the room. Speaking sadly and quietly. Where is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in Connemara? Cathleen Coming down. Give it to him, Nora; it’s on a nail by the white boards. I hung it up this morning, for the pig with the black feet was eating it. Nora Giving him a rope. Is that it, Bartley? Maurya You’d do right to leave that rope, Bartley, hanging by the boards. Bartley takes the rope. It will be wanting in this place, I’m telling you, if Michael is washed up tomorrow morning, or the next morning, or any morning in the week, for it’s a deep grave we’ll make him by the grace of God. Bartley Beginning to work with the rope. I’ve no halter the way I can ride down on the mare, and I must go now quickly. This is the one boat going for two weeks or beyond it, and the fair will be a good fair for horses, I heard them saying below. Maurya It’s a hard thing they’ll be saying below if the body is washed up and there’s no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big price for the finest white boards you’d find in Connemara. She looks round at the boards. Bartley How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for nine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west and south? Maurya If it wasn’t found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and there was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it was a hundred horses, or a thousand horses, you had itself, what is the price of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only? Bartley Working at the halter, to Cathleen. Let you go down each day, and see the sheep aren’t jumping in on the rye, and if the jobber comes you can sell the pig with the black feet if there is a good price going. Maurya How would the like of her get a good price for a pig? Bartley To Cathleen. If the west wind holds with the last bit of the moon let you and Nora get up weed enough for another cock for the kelp. It’s hard set we’ll be from this day with no one in it but one man to work. Maurya It’s hard set we’ll be surely the day you’re drowned with the rest. What way will I live and the girls with me, and I an old woman looking for the grave? Bartley lays down the halter, takes off his old coat, and puts on a newer one of the same flannel. Bartley To Nora. Is she coming to the pier? Nora Looking out. She’s passing the green head and letting fall her sails. Bartley Getting his purse and tobacco. I’ll have half an hour to go down, and you’ll see me coming again in two days, or in three days, or maybe in four days if the wind is bad. Maurya Turning round to the fire, and putting her shawl over her head. Isn’t it a hard and cruel man won’t hear a word from an old woman, and she holding him from the sea? Cathleen It’s the life of a young man to be going on the sea, and who would listen to an old woman with one thing and she saying it over? Bartley Taking the halter. I must go now quickly. I’ll ride down on the red mare, and the grey pony ’ill run behind me⁠ ⁠… The blessing of God on you. He goes out. Maurya Crying out as he is in the door. He’s gone now, God spare us, and we’ll not see him again. He’s gone now, and when the black night is falling I’ll have no son left me in the world. Cathleen Why wouldn’t you give him your blessing and he looking round in the door? Isn’t it sorrow enough is on everyone in this house without your sending him out with an unlucky word behind him, and a hard word in his ear? Maurya