The Field

by John B. Keane

  [Maimie continues to type. She reads a sentence]

  Maimie: ‘… an unfailing water supply with … [She cannot make out the word at first] access to the river.’ Spell access?

  Bird: A…X…I…S

  [Enter ‘The Bull’ McCabe followed by his son Tadhg. Bull wears a hat and overcoat, carries an ashplant … Tadhg is well-built and sour. He is in his twenties and wears a cap]

  Bull: Was oul’ Maggie Butler in here?

  Maimie: She only just left.

  Bird: How’s the Bull?

  Bull: Who gave you the right to call me Bull, you pratey-snappin’ son-of-a-bitch.

  Bird: Sorry Bull, sorry.

  [Retreats to head of counter]

  Bull: [To Maimie] Where’s Mick? [Peering at what she is typing]

  Maimie: Upstairs, finishing his dinner.

  [She covers typing, picks up the lot and goes behind counter]

  Bull: Two bottles of stout and sixpence worth o’ them round biscuits.

  [Maimie goes for order]

  Tadhg: You. Hump off!

  Bird: Sure, Tadhg, sure.

  [Bird swallows whiskey and is about to depart]

  Bull: Wait a minute! Sit down here. [Indicates table] Have a drink?

  Bird: [Nervously] A half whiskey.

  Bull: Three bottles o’ stout, Maimie. [To Tadhg] What do you suppose?

  Tadhg: I’d say he knows all. Wouldn’t you know by the cut of him?

  Bull: I’d say so, too. [To Bird] She was puttin’ up the field, wasn’t she, Bird?

  Bird: That’s right! Fifth of April is the day, by public auction.

  Bull: You have a good ear, Bird.

  Bird: She made no secret of it.

  Tadhg: You’d think she might have told us.

  [Bull grunts, rises and fetches the three bottles of stout from bar to table, also the bag of biscuits. He pays and leaves his ashplant on stage, right of counter]

  Bull: Will he be long?

  Maimie: He shouldn’t be too long.

  [Bull returns to seat. He takes a sip of stout and eats a biscuit, as does Tadhg]

  Bull: [To Bird] The fifth of April, you say?

  Bird: That’s it! I was here.

  Bull: Did she put a price on it?

  Bird: £800.

  Bull: She’s out of her mind!

  Tadhg: A head case!

  [Maimie types and finishes, pulls out paper from machine. Then sits behind counter and reads paper]

  Bird: ’Tis a good bit of land though, Bull. You’ll have to admit that.

  Bull: Oh, I’ll admit it all right but ’twas the manure of my heifers that made it good. Five years of the best cow-dung in Carraigthomond and £40 a year for grazing. That’s £200 I paid, not counting the cost of the cow-dung and the thistles we cut year in year out. To me, that field isn’t worth a penny over £400. I reckon if she got £200 more from me she’d be well paid. Wouldn’t you say so, Tadhg? … Bird, wouldn’t you say so?

  Bird: You’re a fair man, Bull.

  Bull: She’d be well paid indeed, if I was to fork out £200. [Bull takes a drink]

  Bird: Very well paid … but suppose there’s other bidders, Bull?

  Bull: [Surprise] There won’t be any other bidders! I’ll see to that. Half this village is related to me and them that isn’t is related to my wife.

  Bird: There’s bound to be outsiders bidding. There’s a craze for land everywhere.

  [Bull points at his ashplant, which is near the counter, seizes it and strikes the floor with force. He brings drink with him and leans on counter]

  Bull: That’s what I care about outsiders. Accursed friggers with nothing in their heads only to own the ground we’re walking on. We had their likes long enough, hadn’t we? Land is all that matters, Tadhg boy, own your own land.

  [Bull sits on stool, right end of bar]

  Bird: You’re right too, Bull. Dead right … Well, the wife will be wondering what’s keepin’ me. She’ll have the dinner on the table by now.

  [He rises to go]

  Bull: You never ate a full dinner in your life and neither did your wife, you caffler, you! Whiskey is your dinner, supper and tea. How long since you ate an egg, you little rat, you, or a pound o’ beef?

  Bird: [Coming back] Ah, now, she’ll be worrin’, Bull, an’ you know what women are?

  Bull: Why wouldn’t I? Haven’t I one of my own, God bless her? [Shouts] Sit down. [Shouts to Maimie] What’s he eatin’ up there? [Bird sits] A cow, is it?

  Maimie: He shouldn’t be very long more.

  Bull: I suppose he’s beginning his jelly and custard. That’s good, Tadhg … jelly and custard.

  [Tadhg rises and goes to Bull. Has bag of biscuits. Finishes drink]

  Tadhg: Da!

  Bull: [Genuine affection] Yes, Tadhg?

  Tadhg: We’ll have to get this field.

  Bull: [Squeezing Tadhg’s arm, taking bag of biscuits] An’ we’ll get it, we’ll get it oul’ stock. By all rights ’tis our property an’ we’re not men to be cheated out of our property.

  [Tadhg seizes a few biscuits. Bull downs his stout and examines his pocket-watch]

  Bull: God, how I could frighten a feed of bacon and cabbage now, I guarantee you that. [Shouts to Maimie] Will he be long more?

  Maimie: I’ll give him a call.

  [She comes from behind counter and goes to stairway]

  Bull: [To Tadhg and Bird] There’s nothing like a Bull to move a heifer, hah!

  Maimie: Hurry on down, Mick, Mr McCabe wants to see you.

  [There is a muffled reply from Mick]

  Bull: What did he say?

  Maimie: He’s finishing his tea.

  Bull: His tea! Is it his supper or his dinner he’s having? Tell him to bring his tea down with him and drink it here.

  Maimie: Bring your tea down with you. Mr McCabe is in a hurry. [Shouting upstairs]

  Bull: Tell him myself had no dinner yet nor had Tadhg.

  [Tadhg gobbles a few more biscuits]

  Maimie: He says he’ll be down in a minute. [Makes this line almost a gibe] He has to go to the toilet.

  [She sits behind bar]

  Bull: O, Merciful father! He can’t eat his dinner without going to the lavatory!

  Bird: I’ll slip away … I’ll come back again if you want me for anything.

  Bull: [Peevishly] Can’t you sit still? ’Tis no wonder they call you after a bird. You’re worse than a bloody sparrow!

  Tadhg: He’s here!

  [Enter Mick]

  Mick: How’re the men? How’s Bull, how are you? And Tadhg, how’re you?

  Bull: We hadn’t our dinner yet and the two of us fasting since morning.

  Mick: What can I do for you?

  Bull: [Indicates Maimie] ’Tis private.

  Mick: [To Maimie] Are you goin’ to the hairdresser?

  [Maimie operates cash register and extracts a note. She exits without a word. As she is going off, Bull blows up the biscuit bag and bursts it]

  Mick: Well, now what’s the problem?

  Bull: The Bird here tells me you have a field for sale.

  Mick: That’s right!

  Bull: You’re aware of the fact that me and Tadhg has had the grazing of this field for the past five years and has the grazin’ of it now?

  Mick: Yes, I am. Of course I am.

  Bull: Five times £40 is £200. A lot of money!

  Mick: ’Tis a lot!

  Bull: I’ll grant you ’tis a lot. A lot of countin’ in hard-earned single pound notes.

  [Bird looks at Bull knowing what’s coming]

  Bull: £200 in grazing alone. Who’d pay it but myself.

  Mick: Five forties is a fair sum.

  Bull: ’Twould give me as much claim to the field as the woman who has it for sale.

  [Mick doesn’t answer]

  Tadhg: There wouldn’t be a stitch of grass in it only for the manure of the heifers … our heifers!

  Bull: And the bullocks! Don’t forget the bullocks, Tadh
g. Our bullocks is more fat and content than women with husbands in England.

  Tadhg: ’Twas us that kept the donkeys out of it.

  Bull: Donkeys! If there’s one thing that addles me, it’s wandering donkeys. I can’t sleep at night over them. I swear to you I get into bed happy and there I’d be just settling down when I’d think of the long-eared thievin’ pirates. No sleep for me that night. I keep thinking of the grass they eat on me, and the clover … the fine young clover.

  Tadhg: A hungry ass would eat as much as two cows.

  Bull: If he’s an ass, he’s after grass – someone else’s grass. I often come across a lonesome ass in April when you’d see no growth anywhere an’ you’d be sparin’ the young fields for hungry heifers. Like the black stallion donkey with the single ear and the eyes like a saint?

  Tadhg: Oh, Christ!

  Bull: The first time I met that bastard was a Stephen’s Day and he staring through one of the gates of the field we’re buying now. You’d think butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. To look at his face you’d think grass was the last thing in his head. He gave me a look and he trotted off. That night he broke the gate. Three months we watched him till we cornered him. Tadhg there beat him to death. He was a solid hour flaking him with his fists and me with a blackthorn … An’ do you mean to tell me I have no claim to that field? That any outside stranger can make his open bid and do us out of what’s ours, after we huntin’ every connivin’ jackass from the countryside?

  Mick: Ah, now, Bull, be fair, she’s entitled to the best price she can get. The field is legally hers.

  Bull: An’ she’ll get a fair price. I’ll hand you over £200 here an’ now an’ you’ll give me a receipt.

  Mick: £200! Ah, you’ll have to do better than that. Anyway, ’tis for public auction on these premises, the fifth of April. ’Tis out of my hands, Bull … Sorry!

  Bull: Is the bills out yet for it?

  Mick: No, not yet.

  Bull: Did you notify the papers?

  Mick: I’m just on the point of doing it.

  [Lifting Maimie’s typing]

  Bull: [Pointing to it] On the point of it, but ’tisn’t done.

  Tadhg: If it goes to the papers, you’ll have twenty bidding for it.

  Bull: We can’t have that. [Pause. Hand on typing …] And we won’t have that.

  Mick: [Detaches papers from Bull’s hand] The auction will have to be held.

  Bull: And let it be held! There will be no one here but ourselves.

  Mick: Ah, now, you know well there will be more than you interested. That’s a good bit of land.

  Bull: If it don’t go to the papers an’ if there’s no bills who’s going to know except what’s here?

  Mick: You can’t do that!

  Bull: ’Twas done before. You did it yourself.

  Mick: This is different. Old Nesbitt, the solicitor, knows about this.

  Bull: He’s an old crook and, if you ask me, he won’t be here the day of the auction.

  Mick: What are you going to do? Kidnap him?

  Bull: There’s a few old granduncles of mine with wills to be made. One of them could be dying that day, couldn’t he? Oul’ Nesbitt wouldn’t want to fall out with our clan.

  Mick: Hold it! Hold it! I can’t be a party to this. There’s a reserve of £800 and the old woman needs the money. Besides, it’s illegal.

  Bull: [Laughs] Illegal! That’s a good one! [Nudges his companions] Did you hear that … illegal?

  Mick: There’s my commission. Five percent of £800 is £40. I’m not going to lose £40 because you need a cheap field.

  Bull: [Threateningly] I need that field! I have nineteen acres and no passage to water. I have to get a passage. I’ll pay you the £40 the day of the auction, provided my bid is accepted.

  Mick: I’d like to see that in writing.

  Bull: Writing? … Do you want me to be hanged? I’ll sign nothing. Look! You needn’t sign over the field ’till I plank the £40 into the palm of your hand.

  Tadhg: That’s fair enough for anything, isn’t it, Bird?

  Bird: ’Tis reasonable.

  Bull: There will be something for Bird, too. We won’t forget the Bird.

  Mick: You don’t seem to understand that this is highway robbery.

  Bull: ’Tis worse robbery the other way. Do you want some hangblasted shagger of a stranger to get it?

  Mick: What about Maggie Butler? ’Tis her field and no one else’s.

  Bull: ’Tis as much mine! Look here, Flanagan, there’s nothing to prevent a boycott of your shop.

  Mick: What … what do you mean?

  Bull: There’s a hundred relations of mine in this village and around it. Not one of them will ever set foot in this pub again if I say so.

  Mick: Give me the £40 now and I’ll do my best.

  [Bull laughs and Tadhg moves to his left shoulder]

  Bull: I’ll give you the half of it. I’ll give you £20 the day of the sale. Fair enough?

  Mick: Fair enough! The Bird better keep his trap shut.

  Bull: The Bird don’t like to get his feathers wet. Do you, Bird? There’s many a deep hole in the river below and who’s to say how a man might lose his footing?

  Bird: My lips are sealed.

  [Bull draws a wallet from his pocket and extracts two tenners]

  Bull: [To Mick] Here’s two ten pound notes. The Bird here will act as a witness. Put your hand here, Bird, [He places Bird’s hand over Mick’s] and say after me [Authoritative tone] … As God is my judge …

  Bird: As God is my judge …

  Bull: I swear by my solemn oath …

  Bird: I swear by my solemn oath …

  Bull: That I witness the receipt of £20 by Mick Flanagan …

  Bird: That I witness the receipt of £20 by Mick Flanagan …

  Bull: Of the first part …

  Bird: Of the first part …

  Bull: From the person of Thady McCabe of the second part …

  Bird: From the person of Thady McCabe of the second part …

  Bull: [Proudly with grim humour] Here-in-after, affectionately known as the Bull … I’m no fool when it comes to law, boys.

  Tadhg: Hear! Hear!

  Bull: I’m as big a rogue as any solicitor.

  Mick: I’ll have to get the bills printed but I’ll get the lot burned when they come from the printers.

  Bull: Solid thinking … very solid! Now, here’s what we’ll do. The morning of the auction the Bird here opens the bidding with a £100 and I rise him £10. [Increasing in tempo] The Bird goes to £120 and again I rise him £10. The Bird soars up to £150 and again I rise him £10. The Bird flies higher to £190 but I’m there with the final bid of £200. All straight and fair and above board. Two down, as the man said, and carry one. What about the printer? Is he trustable?

  Mick: Safer than a confession.

  Bird: What about me, Bull?

  Bull: What about you?

  Bird: You promised me something.

  Bull: What would you say to £5?

  Bird: I’ll take it.

  Bull: The minute the land changes hands, ’tis yours.

  Bird: What about £1 on deposit?

  Bull: [Wounded] Is it how you don’t trust me?

  Bird: No … No … Good God, no!

  Bull: You won’t be forgot, Bird. You have my guarantees on that.

  Bird: Stand us a half-one before you go?

  Bull: Give him a half-one, Mick. We’ll all have one. Have one yourself, Mick.

  [Bull throws coin on counter and Mick goes to fetch whiskey]

  Bull: [Leaning on bar, in an ecstasy of accomplishment] I watched this field for forty years and my father before me watched it for forty more. I know every rib of grass and every thistle and every whitethorn bush that bounds it. [To Bird] There’s shamrock in the south-west corner. Shamrock, imagine! The north part is bound by forty sloe bushes. Some fool planted them once, but they’re a good hedge. This is a sweet little field, this is an independent li
ttle field that wants eatin’.

  Bird: Well, you’ll have it soon [Accepts whiskey from Mick] with the help of God.

  Bull: [Looks at him suspiciously for a moment but goes on] When oul’ Maggie’s husband died five years ago, I knew he was dying. One look at the writin’ under his eyes and I knew. I knew the wife was feeling the pinch lately. I knew by the writin’. ’Twas wrote as plain as a process across her forehead and in the wrinkles of her cheeks. She was feelin’ the pinch of hunger. [Suddenly to Bird who becomes transfixed] Bird, I swear to you that I could tell what a man be thinking by the writin’ on his face.

  Bird: Have no fear o’ me!

  Bull: [Affable] I won’t oul’ stock, for I know you’re to be trusted above any man I know.

  Tadhg: Da, what about the dinner?

  Bull: [Proudly] There’s your healthy man! When he isn’t hungry for women, he’s hungry for meat. Tadhg, my son, marry no woman if she hasn’t land.

  [Enter a youngish sergeant of civic guards in full uniform]

  Sergeant: Good afternoon, men!

  Mick: Ah, good afternoon to you, Sergeant Leahy. Would you care for a drink?

  Sergeant: Thank you, no, Mick.

  Bull: [To Tadhg] Come on away or our dinner will be perished.

  Sergeant: I didn’t call to see you, Mick. I came to have a word with Mr McCabe here.

  Bull: Well, you’ll have to postpone it because I’m going to my dinner.

  Sergeant: This won’t take long. I’m here investigating the death of a donkey.

  [Laughter from all]

  Bull: Investigating the death of an ass! You wouldn’t hear it in a play! By gor! ’Tis the same law the whole time. The same dirty English law. No change at all.

  Sergeant: Maybe not, but I have to ask your son and yourself a few questions.

  Bull: You’re out of your mind, Sergeant. Come on away home, Tadhg. God, have ye anything else to do? What about all the murders and the robberies? ’Twould be more in your line to be solving them. Come on, Tadhg, this fellow is like all the rest of ’em. His brains are in the arse of his trousers.

  Sergeant: [Sharply] That’s enough of that! Sit down and answer my questions … sit down or come to the barracks!

  Bull: Sit down, Tadhg … [Smugly] There’s more thought of donkeys in this world than there is of Christians.

  Sergeant: Where were you the night before last?

  Bull: What night was that?

  Sergeant: [To Tadhg] Where were you the night before last?