TOWN CLERK: (Coming forward to take KELLY’S hand away from SHAWN.) Congratulations, Chairman. Begob, you’re the right boyo. Sure I always knew you were a potential T.D.—you were threatened with it since the cradle, man.
KELLY: (Genially.) Thank you, gentlemen, thank you. Thank you very much.
TOWN CLERK: Yerrah, not at all.
KELLY: This much I will say. Never has a public man been the fortunate recipient of more whole-hearted co-operation and assistance from true friends than I was on the occasion of this great election. (He turns to MARGARET.) Margaret, I owe more than I can ever repay to these two gentlemen——
SHAWN: (Grinning broadly.) I do, I do.
(He makes his way heavily to the armchair near fire and sits. KELLY runs over again to MARGARET and sits down beside her solicitously.)
KELLY: Margaret, these are the two best friends I have. Both of us should be grateful to them.
MARGARET: Yes, I know. They worked very hard.
TOWN CLERK: Yerrah now, don’t be talkin’ to me, shure it’s only part of the day’s work. ‘Tisn’t worth a fiddler’s curse.
MARGARET: And what about your other friend? The man that wears the bowler hat. The rate collector.
KELLY: (Not so pleased.) O, him?
SHAWN: I do, I do. Shure he worked like a steam-injun and he got hundreds of pounds from nowhere, wherever the devil he collected it.
KELLY: Yes. He also showed himself a good friend.
TOWN CLERK: (Sotto voce.) An’ why wouldn’t he, after been lurried into a job.
(SHAWN has genially lowered himself into a chair and begun the long operation of preparing his pipe. The TOWN CLERK wanders to a backward position where he is not visible to the two on the sofa, takes a halfpint from his hip pocket and takes an enormous slug.)
SHAWN: I do, I do. I congratulate you again, Chairman, but may the Lord comfort you and give you strength to bear the sad . . . terrible . . . mortifying . . . excruciating . . . fierce . . . trials and tribulations that you will meet with above in the Dail. Shure ‘tis like goin’ to bed with ten crocodiles—and without your boots on you itself.
KELLY: (Smiling.) Ah, well, please God we will try, Shawn——
(At this point the TOWN CLERK has taken his enormous slug of whiskey and gives an involuntary gasp or grunt that is clearly heard.)
KELLY: (Turning in surprise.) What——?
TOWN CLERK: (Covering up hastily.) I was only clearin’ me throat, Chairman. These cigarettes has me destroyed.
(MARGARET wheels round and gets up, outraged by this noise. She moves back right, colossally irritated. KELLY shows concern.)
KELLY: What’s the matter, Margaret?
MARGARET: O, nothing. Nothing at all.
SHAWN: Shure aren’t we all worn away with the excitement of this wild . . . mad . . . ferocious . . . exciting day.
MARGARET: (Testily, facing them all generally.) I think it’s yourselves you’re all thinking about all the time, not other people. You don’t care what happens as long as you get your own way——
KELLY: Margaret, what’s the matter?
MARGARET: It’s true. You’re like three peacocks here, only that one of the peacocks has drink taken.
TOWN CLERK: (Who has become a bit hilarious after the last slug.) That’s a bit of a crack at you, Chairman.
KELLY: (Very seriously.) Margaret, please——
MARGARET: All the talk about Ireland and the fine promises we heard for the last month are forgotten now. And all the hard un-Christian things that were said—it doesn’t matter about them, we’re all very nice and happy and good-humoured now because we’ve won.
KELLY: (Quietly.) Margaret, are you not being a little bit unfair? It is perhaps true that in politics there is much that is unpleasant. But speaking for myself (his voice rises as he unconsciously climbs into his plane of ranting) speaking for myself, this much I will say. As an accredited deputy in the national parliament I am determined to serve my country according to my lights and to the utmost of the talents which God has given me. I am determined to strike blow after blow against the vested interest. I am determined to break—to smash—backstairs jobbery in high places. I am determined to expose—to drag into the inexorable light of day—every knave, time-server, sycophant and party camp-follower. I will meet them all and fight them. I will declare war on the Masons and the Knights. I will challenge the cheat and the money-changer——
MARGARET: (In a loud, shrill, half-hysterical voice.) O, stop it. STOP IT! (She begins to move restlessly about the room.) I am sick—absolutely sick—of that sort of talk. I have listened to nothing else for a whole month. I simple won’t stand for any more of that. (She turns on KELLY fiercely.) Do you hear me, I won’t stand it! (She sits on divan.)
SHAWN: Yerrah shure we’re all very tired.
KELLY: (Going and sitting down beside her once again.) Listen, child, you’re very tired. I think we should all leave you and let you get to bed.
(The TOWN CLERK, getting the pair seated again, retires to the background, produces the bottle and takes an even greater slug than the previous one. He gives another loud gasp. KELLY turns and gives him a long cold stare, realises what has happened and looks back again to MARGARET.)
SHAWN: (Rising, with many affectionate pats and adjustments at his clothes.) I do, I do. ‘Tis time and more than time for all those who have laboured for the grand cause to steal away (he tones his thick voice down to a level that is meant to be dainty) quietly into the sweetness of the night and to take a few sweet hours of soft salubrious sleep. What do you say, Town Clerk?
(KELLY is talking inaudibly to MARGARET. At this point the door bell rings. It is a most unusual ring—sustained for ten or fifteen seconds as if the ringer suddenly dropped asleep with his finger on the bell. Just as it stops HANNAH rushes in at great haste. As she exits right to answer the ring, the bell peals again and apparently is stopped only by the door being opened meanwhile.)
TOWN CLERK: Who in the name of God would this be now? Has he no shame to be calling to a private house at such an hour? Or would it be a Guard on duty?
MARGARET: (Wearily.) O, I suppose it’s more of these election people.
KELLY: Well, dear knows it is no supporter of mine and if it is he will march straight out again.
(He is interrupted as HANNAH rushes in, very frightened and casting apprehensive glances behind her. In a second or two the reason for her alarm appears. It is CAPTAIN SHAW. He pauses absolutely still on the threshold. His clothes look somewhat bedraggled and his face bears an extraordinarily tense expression. All present are astonished and at the same time tense that something unusual has happened. They gape at SHAW, and MARGARET rises to her feet in consternation.)
MARGARET: (Rising, as does KELLY also.) Jim! What’s the matter? (She takes a step forward.) What’s the matter, Jim?
KELLY: It’s our friend back again.
MARGARET: (Her voice rising somewhat hysterically.) Jim! What’s wrong with you?
TOWN CLERK: (Who senses what is the matter from his own extensive experience and rushes forward to support SHAW.) Yerrah, sure the poor unfortunate man has been consolin’ himself. And why wouldn’t he!
(SHAW is still standing wild-eyed at the door. MARGARET takes another step forward and stares at him as if unable to believe the suggestion made by the TOWN CLERK.)
SHAWN: (Softly.) I do, I do. He is happy in himself at last, God bless him.
MARGARET: (Almost screaming.) Jim! Have you been drinking?
KELLY: (Very quietly.) Sure the unfortunate man is stuffed with whiskey.
(Here SHAW moves or falls forward into the room. He is in the last blithering stages of intoxication and the nature of his movements and attempts at talking is more a matter for playing rather than for writing in the present script; only the outline of his remarks is attempted here. He staggers over towards SHAWN and attempts to hold out his hand as if to confer congratulations.)
MARGARET: (Beside herself.) Jim!
/> SHAW: No hard feelings, old boy.
SHAWN: (Genially.) Ah, yerrah, the poor man!
SHAW: No hard feelings, old boy. No hard feelings.
MARGARET: (Rushing over and confronting SHAW.) Jim, you’ve been drinking! You’ve been drinking! You, that never touched drink in your life!
SHAW: H’llo Margaret. (He peers at SHAWN.) You’re not Mr. Kelly.
KELLY: I’m Kelly.
TOWN CLERK: (Almost simultaneously.) This is the elected representative of the people, Mr. Kelly, T.D.
SHAW: (Blinking round vaguely.) No hard feelings, old boy. (He distinguishes KELLY and turns round to him.) I’m a sportsman. Always believe in shaking hands with the man that licks me. (He tries to hold out his hand.) Besht man won, old boy. No hard feelings at all.
(He falls on divan. TOWN CLERK and SHAWN sit beside him.)
KELLY: This unfortunate man ought to be in bed because damn the other place he’s fit to be in——
(At this point MARGARET becomes really hysterical. The sight of her brother in this condition brings all her loathing for drink to a terrific climax. She rounds on KELLY.)
MARGARET: Look what you’ve done now! Look what you’ve done now! (Then she looks in turn to SHAWN and the TOWN CLERK.) Do you see the result of your handiwork? (She points at SHAW.) Look at him! Look at him. I hope you’re satisfied. That’s all I have to say. I hope you’re satisfied.
KELLY: Margaret, for heaven’s sake don’t be talking like that!
MARGARET: Why wouldn’t I talk like that? You’re worse than any of them. You’re responsible for this.
KELLY: Me?
MARGARET: You! It’s you that drove my brother to do this—to put himself on the same level as a brute beast—a man that lived for forty-five years in this world without knowing what the taste of drink was. (Her voice rises even higher.) You’re to blame for this. Do you hear me? You’re the cause of it and you’ll have to answer for it before God.
KELLY: I’m to blame? How in the name of heaven am I to blame?
SHAW: Let’s all be friends.
MARGARET: He’s beside himself with drink. He must have been at it for hours.
KELLY: How can you say that I’m to blame if a grown man chooses to make a beast of himself?
SHAWN: We’re all sportsmen here. All good sports.
MARGARET: It’s you . . . and this wretched election . . . and all these lies and slanders. The whole lot of you are to blame, and me too. Do you hear that? Including me.
TOWN CLERK: Yerrah, not at all.
KELLY: You poor girl, you’re overwrought. (He puts his hand on her arm but she shakes it off.) You’re not yourself, Margaret.
MARGARET: Leave me alone!
SHAWN: Do you know, old boy, I was never in better form.
MARGARET: (Pointing at SHAW.) Just look at him. Babbling like a child, bereft of every vestige of his God-given senses. O my God this is terrible!
TOWN CLERK: Yerrah, sure the man is only jarred.
KELLY: Margaret, we’ll go home.
MARGARET: I’m finished with you all—for ever. FOR EVER, do you hear me? You talk about Christian charity . . . and decency . . . and reforming all the nasty things one sees today in this country. What are you, the whole lot of you, but vulgar despicable hypocrites, a gang of drunken louts, worrying all day and all night about your own delicate hides! I’m sick of you . . . absolutely sick. . . .
(Exit.)
SHAWN: (With great compassion.) Ah, the poor overworked . . . tired . . . good . . . religious-minded girl. (He looks towards SHAW.) And the poor . . . tired . . . worn-out . . . exstotiated brother.
(THE STRANGER has entered unobserved.)
KELLY: (Pathetically broken, going to window.) Ah, dear help us. Dear save us and help us. She’s going to leave me.
TOWN CLERK: She is, faith. (He notices THE STRANGER and turns to him.) Begob, yourself with your hat on! Where the divil did you drop from? (They all turn in surprise to see THE STRANGER.)
THE STRANGER: Good night, gentlemen. (He advances towards KELLY.) And congratulations to you, Mr. Kelly.
(He takes KELLY affectionately by the arm, and walks him away from the others, talking to him in an undertone. He pauses on one occasion to point to the prostrate form of SHAW. KELLY looks disturbed and frightened. He makes a few half-hearted efforts to shake off the linking arm, and replies in undertones. Meanwhile . . .)
SHAWN: (Giving the vastest and noisiest yawn ever yet attempted by a human being.) Well, do you know, nivver in his life was Shawn Kilshaughraun so exhausted and worn out . . . and emaciated with exertions . . . and strenualities.
TOWN CLERK: Yerrah, don’t be talking to me.
(At this point KELLY savagely wrenches his arm free from THE STRANGER and backs away from him and speaks in a loud frightened tone.)
KELLY: I will not, I will not! I’m not a T.D. I haven’t taken the oath or taken my seat yet. That’s not the bargain!
THE STRANGER: (Soothingly, ingratiatingly.) Of course, of course, Mr. Kelly. That’s quite all right. There is no hurry at all. (He turns to the others.) A little private matter we were discussing. It will be quite time enough at the next session, in two months’ time.
TOWN CLERK: (To THE STRANGER, severely.) Have you no sense of fitness, man, to be talking business to the Chairman in the hour of his triumph. Shure if you’d any sense, you’d be out swallying balls of malt like the rest of us.
THE STRANGER: I am sorry if I intrude. (He sits beside SHAW on divan. The bell rings.)
KELLY: (Still very agitated.) Town Clerk, private word in your ear. (To the others.) Excuse me.
(TOWN CLERK crosses to KELLY at window. They whisper briefly as SHAWN says:)
SHAWN: Do you know, Rate Collector, we owe the half of our glorious triumph to your good self.
(The door bell has rung and HANNAH hurries in to answer it. She pauses in surprise when she sees those present.)
HANNAH: Glory be to God, are yez still here! Yez have the mistress in a right state upstairs, whatever yez were doing to her. (She hurries out right.)
THE STRANGER: (To SHAWN.) Well, I think we all did our best. You did a fine day’s work yourself, Mr. Kilshaughraun.
SHAWN: (Deprecatingly.) Ah, yerrah, no.
(HANNAH returns, leading the way disdainfully for REILLY; she goes out immediately to left, after giving all a contemptuous look and giving a long stare at the prostrate form of SHAW on the sofa. KELLY has now separated from TOWN CLERK. REILLY has a satisfied sneer on his face.)
REILLY: (Gloatingly.) Good night, one and all. I have just had a nice bit of news.
TOWN CLERK: Begob, it must be very bad news if you have it.
REILLY: O, it’s nothing much. Only that the Town Clerk got a letter from the Minister this morning. (His tone hardens.) The ready-up is knocked on the head. The wangle won’t work. Do you know why?
TOWN CLERK: (Surprised and serious.) How the divil do you know what’s in the private letters I get in me office?
REILLY: (Triumphantly.) Do you know why? Because our friend there (jerking his thumb at THE STRANGER) won’t be sanctioned. HE WON’T BE SANCTIONED!
KELLY: (Almost brightly.) If the appointment is not in order for one reason or another, Mr. Reilly, I am as anxious as anybody that it should be terminated.
TOWN CLERK: Begob, to tell the truth it’s an appointment I was nivver happy about.
SHAWN: (Coming forward.) Well, do you know, I guessed this would come to pass because the Department is one of the most . . . complicated . . . yokes in the whole . . . civilised world.
REILLY: There’s goin’ to be a right row, maybe a sworn inquiry. Just wait and see.
KELLY: (Sharply.) You can spare us all your bad tongue, Mr. Reilly. Our Council was always honest and above-board but we can make mistakes like everybody else. I am as anxious as the next man to rectify any mistake that was made in the past.
REILLY: There’s goin’ to be hell to pay over the query form. (He nods towards THE STRANGER.)
Your man’s replies to the queries was all lies. The Department’s Inspector checked them. All lies from the word go. And very serious lies some of them were. The Guards are on the job now, I believe.
THE STRANGER: (Getting up from the sofa and coming forward.) What’s the trouble?
KELLY: (Bravely.) I’m afraid you’re the trouble.
THE STRANGER: (Puzzled.) How do you mean?
REILLY: (Almost losing his temper.) Begob, you’ll find out all about it very soon, me bucko. You were wheeled in on the ratepayers’ backs by a bare-faced twist and by your own pack of dirty lies on the query form. YOU WON’T BE SANCTIONED. Do you hear that? You won’t be sanctioned, and you might get a stretch in jail for yourself free of charge, into the bargain.
TOWN CLERK: This ould crow is right. You won’t be sanctioned.
THE STRANGER: (Puzzled.) I don’t desire to retain this post very long. Mr. Kelly and I have an arrangement.
KELLY: O, I’m afraid you’re out of it even now. If you’re turned down by the Department, that’s the end of it. If the Council keeps you on, they leave themselves open to surcharge and perhaps a sworn injury. And that’s a very serious matter.
THE STRANGER: (Somewhat perturbed.) I don’t see any reason why I cannot stay on for a little time until I get another job. I’m entitled to some notice. You can get me another job, Mr. Kelly, can’t you?
TOWN CLERK: Another job? Are you crazy, man? Have you taken French leave of your wits and senses?
THE STRANGER: (Perturbed.) I don’t understand. What do you mean?
TOWN CLERK: Yerrah, man, where were you brought up? Here you are in the position of a man that wasn’t sanctioned by the Department. It’ll be all over the town be tomorrow morning. Shure you might as well be dead, man.
SHAWN: (With most emphatic approval.) I do, I do. I do, I do.
THE STRANGER: I don’t understand. What of it if I’m not approved? I lose my job. All I want is another job.
TOWN CLERK: (Turning in despair to the others.) Yerrah, shure the man is mad.
SHAWN: (Indulgently, to THE STRANGER.) Do you know, ‘tis a hard . . . fierce . . . unmerciful thing to say, but in this part of the country a man that was not sanctioned by the Department—well, do you know, he was better off in Van Diemen’s Land. He was better off in some faraway quarter . . . like the Republic of China. . . .
Flann O'Brien: Plays and Teleplays Page 8