then.
PUBLIC : Surely, surely.
BOYLE : I seem to have come out without my wallet …
PRIVATE : Give him the quid.
( PUBLIC gives over a note. BOYLE does not look at it. )
BOYLE : Fine, I’ll move on now. Yes, I knew all the Gallagher girls from Bailtefree, long, long ago. Maire and Una and Rose and Lizzy and Agnes and Maire, your mother …
PRIVATE : You might have been my father.
BOYLE : Oh, another thing I meant to ask you: should you come across any newspapers or magazines over there that might be interested in an occasional poem, perhaps you would send me some addresses –
PUBLIC : I’ll keep an eye out.
BOYLE : Not that I write as much as I should. You know how you get caught up in things. But you have your packing to do, and I’m talking too much as usual.
( He holds out his hand and they shake hands. He does not release PUBLIC ’ s hand. )
Good luck, Gareth.
PUBLIC : Thanks, Master.
BOYLE : Forget Ballybeg and Ireland,
PUBLIC : It’s easier said.
BOYLE : Perhaps you’ll write me.
PUBLIC : I will indeed.
BOYLE : Yes, the first year. Maybe the second. I’ll – I’ll miss you, Gar.
PRIVATE : For God’s sake get a grip on yourself.
PUBLIC : Thanks for the book and for –
( BOYLE embraces PUBLIC briefly .)
PRIVATE : Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!
( BOYLE breaks away and goes quickly off through the scullery. He bumps into MADGE who is entering. )
MADGE : Lord, the speed of him! His tongue out for a drink!
PRIVATE : Quick! Into your room!
MADGE : God knows I don’t blame the Canon for wanting rid of that –
( PUBLIC rushes to the bedroom, PRIVATE follows. )
Well! The manners about this place!
( She gathers up the tea things. PUBLIC stands inside the bedroom door, his hands up to his face, PRIVATE stands at his elbow, speaking urgently into his ear .)
PRIVATE : Remember – you’re going! At 7.15. You’re still going! He’s nothing but a drunken aul schoolmaster – a conceited, arrogant wash-out!
PUBLIC : O God, the Creator and Redeemer of all the faithful –
PRIVATE : Get a grip on yourself! Don’t be a damned sentimental fool! ( Sings ) ‘Philadelphia, here I come–’
PUBLIC : Maire and Una and Rose and Agnes and Lizzy and Maire –
PRIVATE : Yessir, you’re going to cut a bit of a dash in them thar States! Great big sexy dames and night clubs and high living and films and dances and –
PUBLIC : Kathy, my own darling Kathy –
PRIVATE : ( Sings ) ‘Where bowers of flowers bloom in the spring’
PUBLIC : I don’t – I can’t –
PRIVATE : ( Sings ) ‘Each morning at dawning, everything is bright and gay/A sun-kissed miss says Don’t be late–’ Sing up, man!
PUBLIC : I – I – I –
PRIVATE : ( Sings ) ‘That’s why I can hardly wait.’
PUBLIC : ( Sings limply ) ‘Philadelphia, here I come.’
PRIVATE : That’s it, laddybuck!
TOGETHER : ‘Philadelphia, here I come.’
Curtain
EPISODE TWO
A short time later. PUBLIC
is
lying on the bed , his hands behind his head. PRIVATE is slumped in the chair , almost as if he were dozing. PUBLIC sings absently.
PUBLIC : ( Sings )
Last night she came to me, she came softly in,
So softly she came that her feet made no din,
And she laid her hand on me, and this she did say,
‘It will not be long love till our wedding day’.
( When the singing stops there is a moment of silence. Then, suddenly, PRIVATE springs to his feet. )
PRIVATE : What the bloody hell are you at, O’Donnell? Snap out of it, man! Get up and keep active! The devil makes work for idle hands! It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France, then the Dauphiness, at Versailles.
( PUBLIC goes off the bed and begins taking clothes from the chest of drawers and putting them into his case .)
PRIVATE : (Lilting to a mad air of his own making )
Ta-ra-del-oo-del-ah-dol-de-dol-de-dol-del-ah – ( Continuing as rapidly as he can speak ) – Tell me this and tell me no more: Why does a hen cross the road?
PUBLIC :
PUBLIC : Surely, surely.
BOYLE : I seem to have come out without my wallet …
PRIVATE : Give him the quid.
( PUBLIC gives over a note. BOYLE does not look at it. )
BOYLE : Fine, I’ll move on now. Yes, I knew all the Gallagher girls from Bailtefree, long, long ago. Maire and Una and Rose and Lizzy and Agnes and Maire, your mother …
PRIVATE : You might have been my father.
BOYLE : Oh, another thing I meant to ask you: should you come across any newspapers or magazines over there that might be interested in an occasional poem, perhaps you would send me some addresses –
PUBLIC : I’ll keep an eye out.
BOYLE : Not that I write as much as I should. You know how you get caught up in things. But you have your packing to do, and I’m talking too much as usual.
( He holds out his hand and they shake hands. He does not release PUBLIC ’ s hand. )
Good luck, Gareth.
PUBLIC : Thanks, Master.
BOYLE : Forget Ballybeg and Ireland,
PUBLIC : It’s easier said.
BOYLE : Perhaps you’ll write me.
PUBLIC : I will indeed.
BOYLE : Yes, the first year. Maybe the second. I’ll – I’ll miss you, Gar.
PRIVATE : For God’s sake get a grip on yourself.
PUBLIC : Thanks for the book and for –
( BOYLE embraces PUBLIC briefly .)
PRIVATE : Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!
( BOYLE breaks away and goes quickly off through the scullery. He bumps into MADGE who is entering. )
MADGE : Lord, the speed of him! His tongue out for a drink!
PRIVATE : Quick! Into your room!
MADGE : God knows I don’t blame the Canon for wanting rid of that –
( PUBLIC rushes to the bedroom, PRIVATE follows. )
Well! The manners about this place!
( She gathers up the tea things. PUBLIC stands inside the bedroom door, his hands up to his face, PRIVATE stands at his elbow, speaking urgently into his ear .)
PRIVATE : Remember – you’re going! At 7.15. You’re still going! He’s nothing but a drunken aul schoolmaster – a conceited, arrogant wash-out!
PUBLIC : O God, the Creator and Redeemer of all the faithful –
PRIVATE : Get a grip on yourself! Don’t be a damned sentimental fool! ( Sings ) ‘Philadelphia, here I come–’
PUBLIC : Maire and Una and Rose and Agnes and Lizzy and Maire –
PRIVATE : Yessir, you’re going to cut a bit of a dash in them thar States! Great big sexy dames and night clubs and high living and films and dances and –
PUBLIC : Kathy, my own darling Kathy –
PRIVATE : ( Sings ) ‘Where bowers of flowers bloom in the spring’
PUBLIC : I don’t – I can’t –
PRIVATE : ( Sings ) ‘Each morning at dawning, everything is bright and gay/A sun-kissed miss says Don’t be late–’ Sing up, man!
PUBLIC : I – I – I –
PRIVATE : ( Sings ) ‘That’s why I can hardly wait.’
PUBLIC : ( Sings limply ) ‘Philadelphia, here I come.’
PRIVATE : That’s it, laddybuck!
TOGETHER : ‘Philadelphia, here I come.’
Curtain
EPISODE TWO
A short time later. PUBLIC
is
lying on the bed , his hands behind his head. PRIVATE is slumped in the chair , almost as if he were dozing. PUBLIC sings absently.
PUBLIC : ( Sings )
Last night she came to me, she came softly in,
So softly she came that her feet made no din,
And she laid her hand on me, and this she did say,
‘It will not be long love till our wedding day’.
( When the singing stops there is a moment of silence. Then, suddenly, PRIVATE springs to his feet. )
PRIVATE : What the bloody hell are you at, O’Donnell? Snap out of it, man! Get up and keep active! The devil makes work for idle hands! It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France, then the Dauphiness, at Versailles.
( PUBLIC goes off the bed and begins taking clothes from the chest of drawers and putting them into his case .)
PRIVATE : (Lilting to a mad air of his own making )
Ta-ra-del-oo-del-ah-dol-de-dol-de-dol-del-ah – ( Continuing as rapidly as he can speak ) – Tell me this and tell me no more: Why does a hen cross the road?
PUBLIC :
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