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Brian Friel Plays 2

Page 23

by Brian Friel


  O’Neill gathers the envelopes of seeds together.

  In fact are you going to betray your old friend, Maguire?

  O’Neill (roaring) ‘Betray my old –’! For Christ’s sake don’t you start using language like that to me, Harry! (softly) Maguire is a fool. He’s determined to rise up and nobody can stop him and he’ll be hacked to pieces and his people routed and his country planted with Upstarts and safe men. It happened to Fitzmaurice. And McDermott. And Nugent. And O’Reilly. And O’Connor. And O’Kelly. Their noble souls couldn’t breathe another second under ‘tyranny’. And where are they now? Wiped out. And what did they accomplish? Nothing. But because of their nobility, survival – basic, crude, day-today survival – is made infinitely more difficult for the rest of us.

  Harry You are unfair to Maguire, Hugh. He’s impetuous but he’s no fool.

  O’Neill I know – I know – of course I know Maguire’s no fool. Maguire has no choice. Maguire has to rise. History, instinct, his decent passion, the composition of his blood – he has no alternative. So he will fulfil his fate. It’s not a tragic fate and it’s not a heroic fate. But his open embrace of it has elements of both, I suppose. Of course I know all that, for Christ’s sake …

  O’Donnell bursts in. He is breathless with excitement.

  O’Donnell News, boys! News! News! News! Wait till you hear the news, Hugh! Big news – huge news – enormous news! Sorry for bursting in on you like this, Harry. Peter Lombard’s with me. We’ve been riding since dawn. God, I’m wild dry – give us a swig of that wine, Harry. This is it, Hugh boy! I’m telling you – this is it!

  O’Neill This is what?

  O’Donnell Don’t ask me. I can’t tell you. Wait for Peter – I can’t spoil it on him. But I’ll say this much, Hugh O’Neill: I never thought I’d live to see the day! (He accepts a glass.) Decent man, Harry. (He toasts.) To the future – to a great, great future – to the three of us –

  Enter Lombard.

  – to the four of us! (to Lombard) I haven’t opened my mouth – have I?

  Lombard is equally excited but controlled. He shakes hands with O’Neill and then Harry.

  Lombard Hugh. Good to see you.

  O’Neill Welcome, Peter.

  Lombard Harry, (to O’Neill) I was going to send a messenger but I thought it was much too important.

  O’Donnell Spout it out, Peter!

  Lombard It really is astonishing news, Hugh.

  O’Neill It’s Spain, isn’t it?

  O’Donnell The aul wizard. I never said a word.

  Lombard It’s Spain, Hugh. After all these years. God be praised a thousand times. It is indeed Spain.

  O’Donnell Can you believe it?

  Lombard Years of begging, cajoling, arguing – years of hoping – years of despairing.

  O’Donnell Years of praying, Peter.

  Lombard Years of praying indeed. But he has kept his promises, Hugh. Don Francisco Gómez de Sandoval y Rojas, fifth Marquis of Denia, Duke of Lerma, my friend, Ireland’s friend, he has kept his promise.

  O’Donnell Lerma determines their foreign policy.

  O’Neill moves away and stands alone downstage.

  Harry This isn’t the first time Lerma has made promises.

  Lombard Passed by the Council of State last Thursday week. Signed by King Philip himself the following morning. This isn’t a promise. This is guaranteed. And solid. And substantial.

  O’Donnell Yipeeeeee!

  Lombard At this moment they are mustering an army and assembling a fleet.

  O’Donnell Do you see those wee Spanish soldiers in the field, Harry? Bloody ferrets! Jesus, they’d go down a rabbit hole to get you!

  Harry How solid? How substantial?

  Lombard At least thirty-five ships – galleons, men-of-war and some hundred-ton vessels.

  Harry Where are they going to land?

  Lombard I don’t know. That’s a military matter.

  Harry But it’s crucial. It has got to be somewhere along the north coast.

  Lombard I think I heard some mention of Kinsale.

  O’Donnell Wherever that is. Never heard of it.

  Harry Kinsale’s out of the question. We’d have to march an army through the full length of the country to join forces with them, (to O’Neill) It can’t be Kinsale, Hugh.

  Lombard Then tell them it can’t be Kinsale.

  Harry Who’s the commander-in-chief?

  Lombard Don Juan del Aguila.

  O’Donnell Whoever he is. Don Hugho del Ballyshannon’s for more wine, boys!

  Harry Tell me about Aguila.

  Lombard He’s from the Barraco in the province of Avila. Not brilliant but very competent, very experienced.

  Harry How many men?

  Lombard At least six thousand.

  Harry Not enough.

  Lombard They’ll be fully trained and equipped; and it’s up to us to match that number, (to O’Neill) You and Hugh here have got to tour the whole country and whip every Gaelic chieftain into shape.

  Harry Where are they mustering their men?

  Lombard Most of them are Spanish but they hope to levy a few companies of Italians.

  O’Donnell Do you see those Italians? Bloody savages! The only time they ever smile is when they’re sinking a sword in you! Jesus, Hugh, we’ll go through the English quicker than a physic!

  Mabel enters. O’Donnell embraces her warmly.

  We’re up, Mabel darling! We’re up and the Spanish are beside us!

  She looks at O’Neill.

  Lombard Forgive us, Mabel. We’re a bit elated.

  Mabel The Spanish are coming?

  O’Donnell Lift up your heart, Dark Rosie!

  Lombard The Spanish are coming. At long last. And there’s more, Hugh (O’Neill). There’s still more.

  O’Donnell Belt it out, Archbishop Lombard.

  Lombard A Bull of Indulgence from His Holiness Pope Clement VIII.

  O’Donnell Quiet! Quiet! Let the dog see the rabbit!

  Lombard (reading) ‘To the archbishops, bishops, prelates, chiefs, earls, barons and people of Ireland. Encouraged by the exhortations of our predecessors and ourself you have long struggled to recover and preserve your liberty and to throw off the yoke of slavery imposed on you by the English, deserters from the Holy Roman Church. Now, to all of you who follow and assist our beloved son, Hugh O’Neill, and the Catholic army, if you truly repent and confess and if possible receive the Holy Communion, we grant plenary pardon and remission of all sins, as usually granted to those setting out to the war against the Turks for the recovery of the Holy Land. Rome. The Ninth Year of Our Pontificate.’

  O’Donnell Jesus, great word that – ‘pontificate’.

  Lombard Which means, Hugh, that now you aren’t fighting a mere war – you are fighting a holy crusade.

  O’Donnell Goddamn bloody right, Peter!

  Lombard Which means, too, that we are no longer a casual grouping of tribes but a nation state united under the Papal colours.

  O’Donnell Is that big enough news for you, man – eh?

  Everybody looks at O’Neill. Silence. He walks slowly across the room.

  Hi! Hugh!

  Silence.

  (to others) What’s wrong with the bugger? (to O’Neill) O’Neill! Sir Hugh! Tyrone! Did you hear what the man’s just said?

  O’Neill Yes; yes, I heard.

  O’Donnell ‘Yes, I heard’! What the hell’s wrong with the bugger?

  Silence. Then when O’Neill finally speaks, he speaks very softly, almost as if he were talking to himself.

  O’Neill I’m remembering Sir Henry Sidney and Lady Mary, may they rest in peace. We spent the winters in the great castle at Ludlow in Shropshire. I’ve few memories of the winters. It’s the summers I remember and the autumns, in Kent, in the family seat at Penshurst. And the orchards; and the deerpark; and those enormous fields of wheat and barley. A golden and beneficent land. Days without blemish. Every young man’s memories. And every even
ing after dinner Sir Henry would propose a topic for discussion: Travel – Seditions and Troubles – Gardens – Friendship and Loyalty – Good Manners – The Planting of Foreign Countries. And everyone round the table had to contribute – the family, guests, even myself, even his son Philip who was younger than I. And Sir Henry would tease out the ideas and guide the conversation almost imperceptibly but very skilfully so that by the time we rose from the table he had moulded the discourse into a well-rounded and formal essay on whatever the theme was. I was only a raw boy at the time but I was conscious not only that new ideas and concepts were being explored and fashioned but that I was being explored and fashioned at the same time. And that knowledge wasn’t unflattering. Drake was there once, I remember. And Frobisher and his officers on the eve of their first South American voyage. Gross men; vain men. But Sir Henry’s grace and tact seemed to transform all that naked brutality and imperial greed into boyish excitement and manly adventure. He was the only father I ever knew. I was closer to him and to Lady Mary than I was to O’Hagan who fostered me. I loved them both very much.

  Anyhow, time came to come home. I was almost seventeen then. And the night before I left Lady Mary had an enormous farewell dinner for me – there must have been a hundred guests. And at the end of the meal Sir Henry got to his feet – 1 knew he was slightly drunk, maybe he was more drunk than I knew – and he said: ‘Our disquisition tonight will explore a matter of some interest to England and of particular interest to Master O’Neill who goes home tomorrow to become a leader of his people. And the matter is this, and I quote from a letter I have just received from my friend, Andrew Trollope. “Those Irishmen who live like subjects play but as the fox which when you have him on a chain will seem tame; but if he ever gets loose, he will be wild again.” So. Speak to that, Fox O’Neill.’

  And then he laughed. And everybody joined in. And then a hundred people were laughing at me …

  I left the next morning before the household was awake. And ever since – up until this minute – ever since, that trivial little hurt, that single failure in years of courtesy has pulsed relentlessly in a corner of my heart. Until now. And now for no reason that pulse is quiet and all my affection for Sir Henry returns without qualification. (Pause.) But all that is of no interest to anybody but myself.

  O’Donnell Damned right it isn’t. Bloody pulse? – what’s he blathering about?

  O’Neill claps his hands, dismissing the entire episode. He is now suddenly very brisk and very efficient.

  O’Neill The present. (to Lombard) You’re right. Hugh and I will tour the country to gather support. We’ll set out next Monday. (to O’Donnell) No cap-in-hand. We go with authority and assurance.

  O’Donnell Damned right we do!

  O’Neill (to Harry) Get a letter off to Lerma today. Kinsale is out of the question. If they insist on landing in the south – anywhere in the south – tell them to cancel the expedition. (to Lombard) What equipment are they bringing?

  Lombard Six battery pieces and six hundred hundredweight of powder.

  O’Neill (to Harry) We’ll need at least five hundred small guns. Tell Lerma we’re expert in guerrilla warfare but inexperienced in open battle.

  Lombard And see that Archbishop Oviedo gets a copy – he’s very influential.

  Harry Right.

  Lombard (to O’Neill) The Pope has ordered him to sail in the San Andrea – that’s the flagship.

  O’Donnell Flagship! (He salutes.) Jesus, that word flagship’s like music to me!

  O’Neill They’re bringing their own saddles?

  Lombard Yes; but they expect you to supply the horses.

  O’Neill (to Harry) A levy of five horses on every family. And oatmeal. And butter, (to Lombard) A Bull of Indulgence isn’t enough. Everybody who opposes us must be publicly identified. I need a Bull of Excommunication.

  Lombard You won’t get that, Hugh.

  O’Neill We got one before.

  Lombard Twenty years ago.

  O’Neill I want a Bull of Excommunication, Peter.

  Lombard I’ve tried. I’ll try again. Oviedo’s our only hope.

  O’Neill (to Harry) Messages to all the Ulster leaders: a meeting here the day after tomorrow – at noon.

  Harry Noon.

  O’Neill Send Brian O’Hagan across to the Earl of Argyle for mercenaries.

  Harry How many?

  O’Neill As many as he can get. And pay in advance.

  Harry How much money will he need?

  O’Neill Whatever Argyle asks, (to O’Donnell) You’re the expert on horses.

  O’Donnell Bloody right.

  O’Neill (to Harry) Take him up to the upper meadows and show him the new stock. (to O’Donnell) Pick only the horses that are strong enough for a long campaign.

  O’Donnell How many are up there?

  O’Neill Something over three thousand.

  O’Donnell I’ll have a look.

  Harry and O’Donnell go to the door. O’Donnell stops there.

  With all the excitement I forgot to tell you the rumour that’s going round Dublin: the Lord Deputy’s about to proclaim you a traitor.

  O’Neill That’ll do no harm at all. Good. Excellent.

  O’Donnell And do you know what they’re offering as a reward for you? Go on – guess – guess.

  O’Neill All right. Tell me.

  O’Donnell £2000 alive, £1000 dead. The same as they were offering five years ago – for the shit O’Doherty! (He gives a great whoop and exits.)

  O’Neill (to Lombard) Your network of priests could be useful. How many are you in touch with?

  Lombard Twenty, twenty-five.

  O’Neill Every week? Every month?

  Lombard It varies. They have a price on their head, too.

  O’Neill Get in touch with them as soon as possible. Tell them I’ll need them as messengers all over Europe.

  Lombard I’ll do what I can. (He goes to the door.)

  O’Neill And put Oviedo to work on that Excommunication Bull.

  Lombard Oviedo can’t demand it, Hugh. The decision is the Pope’s. Excommunication is a spiritual matter.

  O’Neill Don’t play those games with me, Peter. The situation is as ‘spiritual’ now as it was twenty years ago. I need Excommunication for solidarity here, for solidarity with Europe. I expect you to deliver it.

  Lombard As I said, I’ve tried. I’ll try again.

  He leaves. O’Neill goes to the desk and busies himself with papers. Silence. Mabel watches him for a while and then goes to him.

  Mabel Stop it, Hugh.

  O’Neill Stop what?

  Mabel This Spanish business. Don’t let it happen.

  O’Neill Why should I do that?

  Mabel Because you know this isn’t what you really want to happen.

  O’Neill I’ve spent twenty years trying to bring it about, haven’t I?

  Mabel This isn’t your way.

  O’Neill But you know what my way is.

  Mabel Calculation – deliberation – caution. You inch forward – you withdraw. You challenge – you retreat. You defy – you submit. Every important move you have ever made has been pondered for months.

  O’Neill I have –

  Mabel That’s why you’re the most powerful man in Ireland: you’re the only Irish chieftain who understands the political method. O’Donnell doesn’t. Maguire doesn’t. McMahon doesn’t. That’s why the Queen is never quite sure how to deal with you – you’re the antithesis of what she expects a Gaelic chieftain to be. That’s your strength. And that’s why your instinct now is not to gamble everything on one big throw that is more than risky.

  O’Neill This time Spain is with us.

  Mabel Spain is using you.

  O’Neill We’re using each other. We’ve courted each other for years.

  Mabel And that has given you some small negotiating power with England. But the manoeuvrings are over now. And I promise you, Hugh, England will throw everything she has into this war.r />
  O’Neill So will Spain.

  Mabel No, she won’t. It’s not Spain’s war. It’s your war. And you’re taking on a nation state that is united and determined and powerful and led by a very resolute woman.

  O’Neill Is there an echo of pride in that?

  Mabel Please, Hugh.

  O’Neill Are we so inconsiderable? We aren’t without determination. We aren’t disunited.

  Mabel Just look calmly at what you are.

  O’Neill I know exactly what we are.

  Mabel You are not united. You have no single leader. You have no common determination. At best you are an impromptu alliance of squabbling tribesmen –

  O’Neill Careful!

  Mabel – grabbing at religion as a coagulant only because they have no other idea to inform them or give them cohesion.

  Pause.

  O’Neill Is that a considered abstract of the whole Gaelic history and civilization, Mabel? Or is it nothing more than an honest-to-goodness, instant wisdom of the Upstart? (He is instantly sorry and grabs her and holds her in his arms.) I’m sorry, Mabel. Forgive me. I’m very sorry. I’m a bit on edge. (He kisses the top of her head.) Of course you’re right. We have no real cohesion. And of course I’m worried. Even O’Donnell‘s enthusiasm worries me: for him it’s all a huge adventure – cattle-raiding on an international scale.

  Mabel moves away.

  And I never quite know what the Archbishop is thinking.

  Mabel He talks about a Catholic Confederation, a Catholic Army, about you leading Europe in a glorious Catholic Counter-Reformation. But I always have the feeling that when he’s talking about you and about Ireland, he’s really talking in code about Rome and Roman power. Is that unfair to him?

  O’Neill I don’t know.

  Mabel Just as Spain’s only interest is in Spain and in Spanish power. But my only real concern is you, Hugh. This is not going to be just another skirmish at the edge of a forest. This is a war that England must win because her very survival is at stake. And all I know for sure is that, when the war is over, whatever the outcome, the Lombards and the Oviedos won’t be here – they’ll have moved on to more promising territories. (Pause.) I shouldn’t have spoken. (Pause.) I didn’t mean to intrude. (Pause.) I’m sure I don’t really understand the overall thing.

  O’Neill The overall thing.

 

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