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By  LADY  GREGORY 
Drama 

SEVEN  SHORT  PLAYS. 

FOLK-HISTORY  PLAYS.      2  VOLS. 

NEW  COMEDIES. 

THE  GOLDEN  APPLE. 

THE  DRAGON. 

OUR  IRISH  THEATRE.     A  CHAPTER 

OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
THE  KILTARTAN  MOLIERE. 
THE  IMAGE  AND  OTHER  PLAYS. 
THREE  WONDER  PLAYS. 

Irish  Folk-Lore  and  Legend 

VISIONS  AND  BELIEFS.     2  VOLS. 
CUCHULAIN  OF  MURITHEMNE. 

GODS  AND  FIGHTING  MEN. 
SAINTS  AND  WONDERS. 
POETS  AND  DREAMERS. 
THE  KILTARTAN  POETRY  BOOK. 
THE  KILTARTAN  HISTORY  BOOK. 

HUGH  LANE'S  LIFE  AND  ACHIEVE- 
MENT, WITH  SOME  ACCOUNT  OP 
THE  DUBLIN  GALLERIES. 


Irish  Folk-History 
Plays 


By 


Lady  Gregory 


Second  Series 


The  Tragic-Comedies 

The  Canavans-The  White  Cockade 
The  Deliverer 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 
New  York  and  London 

fmicfcetbocher    press 


PR 


COPYRIGHT  1912 

BY 
LADY  GREGORY 

These  plays  have  been  copyrighted  and  published  simultaneously  in  the 
United  States  and  Great  Britain. 

All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of  translation  into  foreign  languages. 

All  acting  rights,  both  professional  and  amateur,  are  reserved,  in  the  United 
States,  Great  Britain,  and  all  countries  of  the  Copyright  Union,  by  the  author. 
Performances  forbidden  and  right  of  representation  reserved. 

Application  for  the  right  of  performing  these  plays  or  reading  them  in  public 
should  be  made  to  Samuel  French,  28  West  38th  Street,  New  York  City,  or  26 
Southampton  Street,  Strand,  London. 


First  Printing,  March,  1912 

Second  Printing,  December,  1915 

Third  Printing,  June,  1923 


Made  in  the  United  States  of  America 


TO  DEAR  JOHN  QUINN  BEST  FRIEND 
BEST  HELPER  THESE  HALF-SCORE 
YEARS  ON  THIS  SIDE  OF  THE  SEA 


NEW   YORK  FEBRUARY   IQI2 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

THE  CANAVANS i 

THE  WHITE  COCKADE 76 

THE  DELIVERER 144 


THE  CANAVANS 


PERSONS 

Peter  Canavan     .... 
Antony  Canavan  . 
Captain  Headley  .... 
Widow  Greely 
Widow  Deeny 

Time—Reign,  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 


A  MILLER 

HIS  BROTHER 

HIS  COUSIN 


ACT    I 

Scene:  Interior  of  a  mill  room  at  Scartana,  in 
Munster.  Rough  table  and  chairs.  Sacks  in 
corner.  Cake,  glasses,  and  wine  on  table. 

Widow  Greely:  (Who  is  carrying  a  basket  of 
clean  linen,  knocking  at  door  as  she  enters.)  Are 
you  within,  Miller  Canavan? 

Widow  Deeny:  He  cannot  be  far  off,  and  he 
after  bidding  us  to  come  see  him. 

Widow  Greely:  It  cannot  be  only  his  shirts 
he  is  wanting,  and  Sunday  three  days  from  us 
yet.  But  it  was  as  good  bring  them,  and  they 
starched  and  ready  to  put  on.  (Puts  down 
basket.) 

Widow  Deeny:  Cake  and  wine  on  the  table, 
and  it  is  not  a  feast  day  at  all.  It  is  not  as 
starchers  and  ironers  he  is  wanting  our  company 
to-day. 

Widow  Greely:  A  very  kind  man  indeed,  and 
a  good  employer  of  labour. 

Widow  Deeny:  He  is  kind,  so  long  as  it  will 
3 


The  Canavans 


do  no  harm  to  himself  to  be  kind.  But  there  is 
no  doubt  at  all  about  it,  he  is  a  very  timorous 
man. 

Widow  Greely:  That  is  the  nature  of  the 
Canavans,  since  the  great-grandfather  killed  a 
witch-hare. 

Widow  Deeny:  The  heart  of  the  hare  went  into 
them.  What  call  had  he  to  go  eating  it,  and  it 
after  squealing  in  the  pot?  All  he  did  was  to  cut 
the  head  off  it,  and  throw  it  out  of  the  door. 

Widow  Greely:  It  is  harebrained  the  miller's 
brother  was,  leaving  home  for  the  army  as  he  did. 

Widow  Deeny:  There  did  a  wise  woman 
prophesy,  Peter  would  be  hare-hearted  always,  but 
Antony  would  get  the  big  name  and  the  branch 
for  bravery,  before  ever  he  would  come  to  his 
death. 

Widow  Greely:  No  wonder  a  wealthy  man 
like  the  miller  to  be  hare-hearted  and  the 
country  tossed  the  way  it  is.  The  Queen's 
troops  and  Lord  Essex  havocking  the  whole  of 
Munster. 

Widow  Deeny:  The  Lord  be  with  our  own  men 
that  are  hiding  in  the  woods!  It  is  for  them 
I  would  have  more  respect  than  for  any  Canavan 
at  all. 

Canavan:  (Coming  from  inner  door.)  Welcome, 
Widow  Greely,  welcome,  Widow  Deeny.  It  is 
very  neighbourly  of  you  coming  when  I  sent  ask- 


The  Canavans  5 

ing  you;  but  you  are  always  neighbourly  and 
kind. 

Widow  Greely:  Why  would  n't  we  come?  And 
here  is  the  wash  I  brought  with  me.  I  tell  you 
the  Captain  at  the  Castle  does  not  get  his  shirts 
made  up  like  that. 

Canavan:  The  youngster  Lord  Essex  left  in 
charge?  I  believe  he  is  a  kinsman  of  my  own. 

Widow  Deeny:  I  heard  them  saying  that.  He 
Englished  his  name  to  Headley  it  seems,  he  being 
a  genteel  young  man.  Canavan,  one  head,  Head- 
ley.  They  say  he  has  shirts  and  laces  for  every 
day  of  the  year. 

Canavan:  (Sitting  down  and  motioning  them  to 
do  the  same.)  Well,  it  is  the  reason  of  me  sending 
for  you,  I  am  wishful  to  ask  for  your  advice. 

Widow  Greely:  Do  so,  and  it  is  likely  we  will 
give  it  in  a  way  that  will  be  pleasing  to  yourself. 

Canavan:  Now,  when  there  is  a  course  of 
action  put  before  any  man,  there  is  but  the  one 
question  to  put  and  the  one  to  answer;  and  that 
question  is:  Is  it  safe? 

Widow  Greely:  You  were  always  wary,  and 
why  would  n't  you  be  wary? 

Canavan:  Now,  when  Lord  Essex  came  besieg- 
ing the  Castle  above,  where  did  he  get  his  oats 
and  his  straw  and  his  flour  from  but  from  myself? 
I  treated  him  well,  and  he  treated  me  middling 
well.  I  made  no  complaint  about  payment — I 


The  Canavans 


was  chary  of  doing  that — it  was  best  let  the 
townland  think  it  was  taken  from  me  by  force. 
Well,  it  was  not  forgotten  to  me,  and  what  has 
come  but  a  letter  from  the  Lord  Deputy  making 
me  an  offer. 

Widow  Greely:  If  it  is  a  good  one  I  would 
recommend  you  take  it. 

Canavan:  It  is  what  he  tenders  me  in  this 
letter,  in  return  for  my  services  and  believing 
me  to  be  loyal  to  the  Queen,  to  make  me  Mayor 
of  Scartana. 

Widow  Deeny:    No  less  than  Mayor! 

Canavan:  Now  all  I  want  is  to  be  safe;  to 
keep  my  life,  my  quietness,  my  commodity.  It 
is  with  the  strongest  I  must  take  service  to  do 
that.  I  have  but  one  head  only,  and  what  I 
have  to  do  is  not  to  lose  it.  If  now,  I  take  office, 
will  the  Queen's  Government  be  protecting  me  to 
the  end  of  my  lifetime? 

Widow  Greely:  You  may  be  sure  they  will,  so 
long  as  you  are  of  use  to  them,  and  that  they 
have  the  upper  hand. 

Widow  Deeny:  There  would  be  safety  in  one 
thing  anyway,  that  you  having  taken  the  oath 
to  the  Queen,  no  one  would  expect  you  to  put 
yourself  out  at  any  time,  striking  a  blow  for 
Ireland. 

Canavan:  Now,  as  to  taking  the  oath,  I  don't 
say  but  it  might  go  against  me  in  the  eyes  of  the 


The  Canavans  7 

neighbours.  I  am  the  loathest  man  in  Munster 
to  give  offence  to  any  one.  But  who,  unless  a  fool, 
would  go  hop  against  a  hill?  There  is  many  a 
little  thing  a  man  will  do  for  the  sake  of  safety, 
that  he  would  not  do  at  any  common  time.  To 
turn  his  vest  and  he  led  away  by  enchantment 
in  a  field,  or  to  cross  himself  passing  by  a  church- 
yard in  the  night  time;  to  do  these  things  or  to 
take  the  oath,  what  are  they  but  a  little  token 
of  respect  to  something  that  might  be  a  danger. 
There  can  be  no  harm  at  all  in  that. 

Widow  Deeny:  The  Queen  might  be  a  danger 
with  her  troops  in  the  Castle  above.  That  is  true 
enough. 

Canavan:  Caution  is  no  load  upon  any  one. 
And  it  might  be  safer  for  the  district  to  have  me 
as  Mayor  than  a  real  Queen's  man.  I  always 
said  I  would  like  to  do  something  for  Ireland 
when  the  right  time,  and  the  safe  time,  would 
come.  But  it  did  n't  come  yet.  I  see  danger 
around  on  every  side. 

Widow  Greely:  I  suppose  so.  If  every  one 
would  look  as  far  before  them  as  they  do  be- 
hind, they  would  see  plenty. 

Widow  Deeny:  O'Connor  is  gaining  the  day  in 
some  parts,  the  same  as  O'Neill  in  the  North. 

Canavan:  That  is  what  I  have  in  my  mind. 
Our  own  people  to  get  the  upper  hand,  would 
they  think  bad  of  me  taking  office  under  the 


8  The  Canavans 

Queen?  The  mill  is  a  lonesome  place — the  roof 
of  it  is  but  thatch — any  attack  at  all  to  be  made 
on  it  would  be  a  great  danger. 

Widow  Deeny:  I  wonder  now  you  would  not 
bring  in  some  person  to  be  conversing  with  you 
and  heartening  you  in  the  long  evenings. 

Canavan:  I  am  best  without  any  person.  I 
was  well  pleased  when  Antony,  my  brother,  left 
the  house.  Some  notion  he  would  never  die  he 
had,  made  him  go  playing  and  fooling,  playing 
and  fooling,  tricking  with  danger  like  a  ball. 
Came  dressed  in  straw  with  the  wrenboys  one 
Stephen's  night  he  did,  set  my  knees  shaking 
through  his  knowledge  and  his  mockeries,  I 
taking  him  to  be  no  right  man.  It  was  on  the 
head  of  that,  I  drove  him  out  of  the  door. 

Widow  Deeny:  He  brought  down  his  name 
with  his  own  comrades,  the  time  he  went  taking 
the  pay  of  the  Queen. 

Canavan:  It  was  maybe  best.  He  to  be 
sworn  to  the  Queen,  I  myself  to  be  thought  a 
trusty  man  in  Scartana;  that  is  the  way  for  a 
family  to  keep  itself  safe  on  every  side. 

Widow  Deeny:  Is  it  alive  at  all  he  is,  since  he 
went  abroad  to  England?  I  believe  there  was 
no  word  of  him  this  time  past. 

Canavan:    I  would  not  like  to  be  putting  my- 
self forward,  sending  asking  news  of  him.     Any* 
harm  to  have  happened  him,  it  is  likely  I  would 


The  Canavans  9 

be  sent  word.  If  I  got  at  any  time  certain  news 
of  his  death,  I  would  not  begrudge  laying  out  a 
fair  share  in  Masses  for  the  benefit  and  the  safety 
of  his  soul. 

(Enter  Antony  disguised  as  a  pedlar.) 

Antony:  Who  wants  ruffs  for  the  neck,  hoods 
for  the  hair,  all  the  fashions  that  are  in  any 
Court  at  all! 

Canavan:  (Getting  up.)  Who  is  that?  A 
pedlar.  I  have  no  good  opinion  of  pedlars. 
There  was  a  pedlar  did  a  murder  one  time  in 
Cashel.  To  carry  away  the  limbs  he  did  one  by 
one  in  his  pack. 

Antony:  I  have  better  than  that  in  my  pack! 
Buying  from  the  old,  working  out  the  new.  Ruffs 
for  the  neck,  hoods  for  the  hair,  wearables  and 
jewellry,  combs  and  laces  fit  for  the  Queen  of 
England ! 

Widow  Greely:  Are  they  now?  (He  opens  pack 
and  takes  out  a  ruff.)  I  never  saw  so  sizable  a  frill 
as  that  one,  or  so  much  like  a  turkey-cock's  neck. 

Antony:  That  is  the  right  size,  ma'am.  That 
is  the  way  the  Queen  herself  wears  them. 

Widow  Deeny:  What  way  would  she  get  her 
neck  into  that?  Sure  it  is  like  a  nut  on  a 
platter  her  head  would  be! 

Antony:  Not  at  all,  ma'am.  It  would  be- 
come yourself  well  if  you  but  knew  how  to  wear 
it.  Look  here  now — there  is  a  likeness  of  her  in 


io  The  Canavans 

the  pack  (Takes  one  out  and  holds  it  up).  This 
is  the  way  she  is — a  hood  on  her  head — two 
bunches  of  hair  at  the  sides  of  her  face  —  the 
ruff  around  it  like  spokes  around  the  hub  of  a 
wheel  (Puts  picture  on  wall).  Look  at  that  now 
for  a  ruff!  It  is  quite  easy  if  you  know  what 
way  to  wear  it. 

Widow  Deeny:  Isn't  that  great  now.  And 
it  is  like  that  she  is?  Sure  they  say  she  has  her 
hair  dyed  red  like  your  own,  since  she  came  to 
the  turn  of  her  age. 

Widow  Greely:  Is  that  herself  now!  The 
woman  that  never  took  a  husband,  or  fasted 
from  a  lover. 

Widow  Deeny:  That  she  may  be  dancing 
quadrilles  on  a  red  hot  floor  this  day  twelve- 
month, along  with  her  fitting  father,  Henry  the 
Eighth! 

Canavan:  Get  on  now.  We  want  none  of 
your  vanities.  Get  on  out  of  this! 

Antony:  Oh,  brother  Peter,  is  that  the  way 
you  are  threatening  a  soldier  of  the  big  army ! 

Canavan:  Antony !  Is  it  Antony  it  is !  What 
is  it  brings  you  here? 

Antony:  You  need  not  think  of  the  safety 
of  my  soul  yet,  with  many  thanks  to  you, 
Peter. 

Canavan:  Are  you  after  putting  ears  on  your- 
self, and  you  outside  the  door? 


The  Canavans  n 

Antony:  I  heard  you  say  nothing  but  the 
thing  I  would  expect  you  to  say,  and  you  the 
same  as  you  were. 

Canavan:  (To  widows.)  What  did  he  hear? 
What  was  I  saying?  It  is  as  a  spy  from  Lord 
Essex  he  is  come! 

Antony:    It  is  not  from  Lord  Essex  I  am  come. 

Canavan:  He  might  be  questioning  you.  Why 
did  I  open  my  mind  at  all?  But  I  said  no 
treasonable  thing.  Bear  witness  now  I  said  no 
word  at  all  against  the  Queen's  Government! 

Antony:  I  tell  you  I  am  no  spy.  You  have 
leave  to  give  me  good  treatment,  and  not  harm 
yourself  at  all. 

Canavan:  Well,  now,  as  to  stopping  here — 
it  is  best  be  cautious — the  neighbours  might  mis- 
like  it — they  might  bring  it  up  against  me,  a 
Queen's  man  to  be  harboured  in  the  house. 

Antony:  Oh,  I  am  a  quiet  poor  creature, 
will  give  them  no  annoyance  at  all.  I  am  not 
like  a  daring  man  would  have  his  name  rising 
up — first  over  the  ditches  in  Friesland,  spitting 
Spaniards  like  herrings  on  a  pike — wounded  in 
the  gate  at  Antwerp — blowing  up  red  hot  guns 
with  a  match.  If  ever  any  one  says  it  was  I 
myself  did  those  deeds,  you  may  know  he  is  an 
enemy  of  my  own,  and  give  no  heed  to  him  at 
all. 

Widow  Greely:    Little  there  'd  be  to  boast  of  if 


12  The  Canavans 

you  did  do  them.  I  'd  think  more  of  a  push 
of  a  pike  given  for  Munster,  than  of  all  your 
red  hot  guns! 

Widow  Deeny:  After  giving  your  strength  to 
the  enemy  your  weakness  is  not  much  to  bring 
home !  It 's  the  shell  of  the  nut  you  are  bringing 
us,  and  the  husk  of  the  winnowed  corn. 

Antony:  That  is  right,  that  is  right.  That  is 
the  way  I  would  like  you  to  be  talking 

Widow  Greely:  A  man  to  go  against  his  own 
people  for  the  sake  of  that  lean  upper  crust! 
(Points  to  picture.) 

Antony:  Little  at  all  I  did  of  righting,  but  to 
be  sitting  hatching  in  the  camp.  There  is  no 
great  name  on  me  at  all! 

Widow  Greely:  It  's  a  place  for  yourself  you 
will  hatch  out.  You  will  maybe  be  crier  to  the 
Mayor! 

Widow  Deeny:  The  miller  has  something  to 
gain  by  it,  but  you  to  be  a  traitor  and  poor! 

Widow  Greely:  The  rich  of  the  world  should 
get  pity,  because  there  is  temptation  at  their 
side. 

Widow  Deeny:  I  would  not  blame  their  kins- 
man at  the  Castle  that  was  reared  to  go  follow- 
ing the  Queen. 

Widow  Greely:  It  is  what  I  was  often  say- 
ing, the  Canavans  are  not  much  of  a  race. 

Widow  Deeny:      It  is  what  I  think,   Miller 


The  Canavans  13 

Canavan,  it  is  best  for  us  be  going  home.  We 
do  not  care  much,  with  respects  to  you,  for  the 
company  has  come  into  your  house.  (They  go 
out.) 

Canavan:  Now  that  those  corn-crakes  are 
gone,  tell  me  what  is  it  brings  you  home. 

Antony:  Did  n't  you  hear  me  telling  them  I 
have  left  the  Queen's  army? 

Canavan:    What  were  you  turned  out  for? 

Antony:  I  was  not  turned  out  at  all.  I  took 
my  own  leave.  I  was  afeared  to  stop  on  in  the 
army. 

Canavan:  I  would  n't  wonder  at  that.  The 
time  fighting  would  be  going  on,  the  army  is  no 
good  trade. 

Antony:  It  is  the  way  it  was.  It  is  in  the 
prophecy  I  will  not  die  until  such  time  as  my 
name  is  up.  My  name  being  down,  I  have  no 
fear  of  death,  but  it  is  for  ever  I  might  live;  and 
so  whatever  danger  there  is  to  face,  I  am  safe 
facing  it. 

Canavan:  My  grief  it  was  not  for  myself  that 
prophecy  was  made ! 

Antony:  But  the  time  we  were  in  Flanders, 
my  name  was  going  up  in  spite  of  myself,  the  same 
way  it  was  going  up  and  I  a  young  lad,  and  that 
I  enlisted  to  check  it.  And  so  it  was  to  check 
it  again  that  I  deserted  yesterday.  I  thought 
it  no  sin  bringing  that  pack  away  with  me  in 


14  The  Canavans 

place  of  my  pay.  I  thought  to  find  a  fortune  in 
it,  where  it  came  by  a  Queen's  messenger  from 
London.  But  my  curse  be  upon  it,  there  is 
nothing  at  all  but  a  suit  of  clothes  and  that 
picture,  as  a  present  for  the  Lord  Deputy's 
lady! 

Canavan:  You  made  off  without  leave !  That 
was  a  terrible  dangerous  thing  to  do!  Hurry 
back  now  or  they  will  say  you  are  a  deserter. 

Antony:  They  will  be  doing  no  wrong  saying 
that.  It  is  a  deserter  I  am. 

Canavan:  A  deserter!  What  now  would  hap- 
pen to  me,  it  to  be  known  you  are  a  deserter !  I 
will  not  abet  you!  Go  back  now  before  you  will 
be  missed!  (Tries  to  push  him  to  door.) 

Antony:  I  will  not.  I  tell  you  I  am  af eared. 
If  I  go  fighting  again  my  name  will  go  up  in 
spite  of  me.  It  is  here  in  Scartana  I  will  stop. 
A  miller  like  yourself  I  will  be.  They  know  us 
here  and  they  will  not  speak  well  of  us.  Sorting 
the  grains  I  will  be  with  you — keeping  the  hens 
from  laying  abroad. 

Canavan:  (Rising.)  A  deserter  from  the 
army!  And  in  this  house!  Get  out  of  this,  get 
out!  Oh,  why  did  I  let  you  pass  the  threshold! 
A  deserter!  The  thing  there  is  no  forgiveness  for! 
Oh,  this  is  a  day  of  great  misfortune ! 

Antony:  You  need  not  be  so  tender  over  me. 
They  have  not  taken  me  yet. 


The  Canavans  15 

Canavan:  Tender  over  you!  Is  it  of  you  I 
am  thinking?  I  am  thinking  of  myself.  What 
black  wind  brought  you  here?  (Sits  down  and 
rocks  himself.)  A  deserter  to  come  into  my 
house!  (Walking  up  and  down.)  Calling  the 
whole  army  down  upon  me!  A  decoy  duck  in 
a  pond!  A  wire  rod  in  a  thunder-storm!  A 
squealing  rabbit  among  weasels !  A  gabbling 
turkey  poult  among  foxes!  A  running  partridge 
to  bring  hawks!  Was  there  ever  any  man  put 
in  such  danger  in  his  own  house  and  in  his  own 
place  since  ever  the  world  was  a  world ! 

Antony:  Who  would  I  look  to  to  befriend  and 
to  cherish  me,  but  my  only  brother? 

Canavan:  Why  should  a  man  be  put  in  danger 
if  he  had  forty  thousand  brothers?  I  will  not 
be  cumbered  with  you.  I  tell  you  I  am  going 
to  be  put  in  a  very  high  station.  Mayor  of 
Scartana  I  am  to  be  made.  Look  now,  Antony, 
we  were  always  fond  of  one  other — just  leave 
the  place  now,  and  go  back  for  the  sake  of  the 
name — don't  endanger  me. 

Antony:  Ah,  you  are  a  great  coaxer.  Will 
you  wish  me  to  go  to  the  Castle  above  and 
to  give  myself  up  to  be  hanged? 

Canavan:  That  won't  do,  that  won't  do,  I  'd 
be  disgraced  along  with  you.  They  might  im- 
peach me  for  consanguinity.  You  have  no  call 
to  be  twisting  a  rope  for  my  neck  along  with 


16 


The  Canavans 


your  own.     You  must  go  into  hiding,  you  must 
let  no  person  see  you  at  all! 

Antony:   I  will  hide,  so,  till  nightfall,  in  the  shed. 

Canavan:  No,  no,  one  of  the  mill  lads  might 
get  a  sight  of  you! 

Antony:    Or  in  the  loft? 

Canavan:  Not  safe,  not  safe — there  is  not 
enough  of  straw  to  cover  you.  I  would  be  well 
pleased  the  earth  to  open  and  to  swallow  you 
up  out  of  sight! 

Antony:  I  would  n't  wish  the  widows  to  know 
I  deserted  from  the  army.  They  would  be  putting 
big  mouths  on  themselves  among  the  neighbours, 
shouting  me  till  a  bonefire  would  be  lit  in  my  praise. 
Let  no  person  know  in  Scartana  I  did  anything 
worth  praising  at  all. 

(Enter  the  two  widows.) 

Widow  Greely:  We  have  very  tempestuous 
news,  Miller! 

Widow  Deeny:  Very  strange  news  indeed,  if 
we  had  but  breath  to  bring  it  out. 

Widow  Greely:  The  Queen's  soldiers  to  be 
coming  to  this  house! 

Widow  Deeny:  You  yourself  that  was  going 
to  be  Mayor ! 

Widow  Greely:  Indeed  I  would  sooner  it  was 
any  other  one. 

Widow  Deeny:  The  soldiers  had  a  very 
wicked  look. 


The  Canavans  17 

Widow  Greely:  It  is  hard  in  these  times  to 
keep  out  of  danger. 

Widow  Deeny:  It  is,  where  Miller  Canavan 
has  failed. 

Canavan:  What  is  that  you  are  saying  about 
danger? 

Widow  Greely:  It  is  much  if  you  escape  with 
your  life! 

Widow  Deeny:  It  is  harbouring  rebels  they 
say  you  are. 

Canavan:  Be  off  out  of  this,  Antony  Canavan, 
and  don't  be  dragging  me  to  my  death. 

Antony:  (At  door.)  I  must  run — no,  the  troops 
are  spreading  themselves  to  surround  the  house. 

Widow  Greely:  Hide  yourself  here  under  the 
sacks — they  might  chance  not  to  take  notice  of 
you.  (She  points  to  a  heap  of  sacks  in  the  corner.) 

Canavan:  (Seizing  Antony.)  You  will  not  hide 
under  the  sacks — it  is  myself  they  will  be  taking 
in  your  place! 

Widow  Deeny:  It  is  likely  indeed  you  will 
suffer,  and  a  deserter  to  be  found  on  your  floor ! 

Canavan:  I  can  make  my  defence!  They 
cannot  say  I  am  a  rebel — look  now  at  all  the 
things  I  might  have  done  against  the  Queen  and 
didn't  do!  All  I  ever  did  was  to  strive  to  keep 
my  head  safe.  Is  a  man,  I  ask  you,  to  go  to  his 
death  for  that? 

Widow  Deeny:     (At  door.)      A  great  troop  of 

VOL.  n— a 


i8  The  Canavans 

them  indeed — and  the  young  Captain  leading 
them  on.  Go  under  the  sacks  I  tell  you,  Antony, 
we  will  stand  to  the  front  of  them  ourselves. 

Canavan:  (Dragging  him  from  them.)  No,  no, 
every  rib  of  my  hair  is  rising !  I  am  af eared,  I  am 
af eared,  in  the  very  cockles  of  my  heart!  It  is 
I  myself  will  go  in  under  the  sacks.  Stop  you 
here,  take  my  coat — let  you  personate  me — they 
will  not  harm  you  at  all !  (Gives  him  coat  and  cap 
and  creeps  under  sacks.) 

Antony:  (Putting  on  coat  and  cap  and  flouring 
himself.)  There  is  no  fear  of  my  life.  There  is 
no  big  name  on  me  yet.  But  you  will  die  in  a 
frenzy  at  the  sight  of  them,  the  same  as  a  mouse 
in  a  trap! 

Canavan:  Settle  them  over  me,  settle  the 
sacks  over  me!  If  they  rose  off  me  the  height 
of  my  finger  I  'd  get  the  shivers. 

(Widows  cover  him  up.    Antony  sits  at  desk 
and  takes  up  a  paper.) 

Antony:  Faith  I  '11  make  a  handsome  miller, 
I  '11  be  picking  fun  out  of  the  Captain.  Four 
pecks  one  bushel,  eight  bushels  one  quarter,  four 
bushels  one  coombe,  thirty-six  bushels  one  chald- 
ron— five  quarters  one  load. 

(Headley  appears  at  door  and  speaks  to 
men  outside.) 

Headley:  Stop  there,  Corporal,  with  your 
men.  Watch  all  the  doors.  Let  no  one  escape 


The  Canavans  19 

from  the  house — (to  Antony)  I  am  Captain 
Headley,  on  the  Queen's  business. 
•  Antony:  Welcome,  welcome  Captain.  It  is 
too  great  an  honour  you  are  doing  me,  and  I 
but  a  poor  trader,  striving  to  knock  out  a  liv- 
ing at  the  mill.  I  'm  thinking  the  middle  of 
the  day  is  rising.  We  will  have  white  meal 
from  the  wheat  this  year,  for  there  's  nothing  so 
natural  as  the  sun. 

Headley:  A  soldier  has  deserted  from  Lord 
Essex's  troop.  He  has  stolen  Government  pro- 
perty. He  is  said  to  be  a  relation  of  your  own. 

Antony:  Ah,  the  mean  villainous  abominable 
rascal !  To  go  bring  disgrace  upon  my  name ! 

Headley:    Has  he  come  to  this  house? 

Antony:  That  I  may  never  sin  if  any  person 
came  in  at  this  door  to-day,  but  myself  and  the 
two  widows  with  the  wash. 

Headley:  W  have  information  that  the  print 
of  his  boots  was  found  in  the  soft  path  above. 
(Reads.)  "One  with  two  close  runs  of  nails  in 
the  sole;  one  without  a  toe;  one  with  a  bit  of 
another  boot  on  it " 

Antony:  The  brazened  backbiters!  Sure  that 
is  the  print  of  my  own  boots  about  the  place! 
Look  now,  am  I  telling  any  lie?  (Holds  up  boot.) 

Headley:    We  must  search  the  house. 

Antony:  We  will,  we  will,  and  welcome.  It  is 
I  myself  will  go  searching  before  you,  the  way  you 


20  The  Canavans 

will  not  destroy  your  fine  tasty  suit.  It  is  likely 
your  honour  may  have  heard  I  am  to  be  made 
Mayor  of  Scartana? 

Headley:  Even  so,  you  might  harbour  a  rebel 
of  your  own  blood. 

Antony:  Is  it  of  Canavan  the  miller  you  are 
saying  that?  Would  you  say,  neighbours,  is  Peter 
Canavan  a  man  to  put  himself  in  danger,  to  save 
the  life  of  any  person  on  earth? 

Widow  Greely:  He  would  sooner  let  the  whole 
of  the  tribes  of  Munster  go  to  their  death. 

Headley:  I  believe  if  it  were  not  for  dread 
of  our  army  you  would  all  be  rebels  against  our 
bright  goddess,  Elizabeth,  the  fairest  princess  be- 
neath the  skies. 

Antony:  Guide  your  eyes  sideways.  Look 
what  is  forenenst  you  on  the  wall — a  picture  of 
the  Queen's  majesty.  Who  would  say  now  this 
is  not  a  loyal  place? 

Headley:    Is  that  the  Queen? 

Antony:  Herself  indeed.  (Takes  off  cap.) 
God  bless  the  man  that  brought  it  here!  Here 
now,  Captain,  is  wine  of  Spain,  you  will  not  re- 
fuse to  drink  to  her  health. 

Headley:  I  will  never  refuse  to  drink  to  that 
glorious  one.  (Drinks  and  falls  on  one  knee.) 
But  what  audacious  man  has  tried  to  set  down 
her  portrait! 

"All  were  it  Zeuxis  or  Praxiteles 


The  Canavans  21 

His  skilful  hand  would  fail  and  greatly  faint 

Picturing  her  dainty  beauty,  Sacred  Saint " 

Queen  of  Love!  Paragon  of  Beauty!  Prince  of 
Peace !  Crown  of  Lilies !  Image  of  the  Heavens ! 
Mirror  of  Divine  Majesty!  Mirror  of  Grace! 
— oh,  let  me  look  nearer  (Gets  up).  I  suppose  it 
is  not  a  very  exact  portrait? 

Antony:  It  is  maybe  a  little  too  fleshy  in  the 
jaw — but  she  was  much  like  that  the  last  time  I 
saw  her. 

Headley:     (Drinking.)     You  saw  the  Queen? 

Antony:  I  was  mostly  reared  around  this 
place,  but  I  went  one  time  to  London — with  sam- 
ples of  flour  I  went — they  made  use  of  some  of 
it  in  the  Court.  But  sure  you  must  often  have 
seen  her  yourself? 

Headley:  Not  exactly — I  have  not  yet  been  in 
the  royal  presence.  Of  course  I  shall  be  when- 
ever I  go  to  England — but  I  did  n't  go  there  yet. 

Antony:  Not  in  England!  I  thought  by  you 
that  you  had  never  been  reared  in  Ireland  at 
all. 

Headley:  What  matter,  it  is  all  the  one  thing. 
I  have  English  connections — I  had  always  an 
English  heart.  Now  I  will  call  in  the  Corporal 
to  search. 

Antony:  (Stopping  him.)  Look  here  now, 
Captain,  I  am  your  well-wisher  .and  I  have  a 
thing  to  put  in  your  mind.  Go  over  to  the 


22  The  Canavans 

Court — make  no  delay — it  will  be  a  sure  road  to 
fortune. 

Headley:    That  has  been  said  to  me  before. 

Antony:  I  hope  it  is  not  a  liberty,  saying 
you  are  a  high-up  lovely  young  man. 

Headley:  I  am  told  there  are  some  have  called 
me  the  Apollo  of  the  army. 

Antony:  I  heard  that — a  very  civil  coun- 
tenance— grand  beautiful  features — and  believe 
me  if  I  heard  it,  the  Queen  has  not  been  with- 
out hearing  it,  for  she  has  a  great  respect  for 
comeliness. 

Headley:  More  than  that  again,  I  have  been 
told  that  my  name  has  come  to  the  royal  ear. 

Antony:  If  she  could  but  see  you  now;  or 
maybe  you  poetise.  They  speak  nothing  at  the 
Court  but  poetry. 

Headley:    A  sonnet  maybe  an  odd  time 

Antony:  That  is  good.  Write  me  out  one  now 
and  I  '11  mix  it  in  my  flour.  I  '11  take  care  she 
will  get  it  in  a  cake  of  bread. 

Headley:  I  have  not  to  go  to  those  shifts.  I 
have  samples  of  my  verse  given  to  some  who  will 
lay  it  in  the  Queen's  way. 

Antony:    And  very  good  verse  it  is  I  '11  engage. 

Headley:    My  comrades  think  well  of  it.  (Sings:) 

Ye  traitors  all  that  do  devise 
To  plague  our  Paragon, 


The  Canavans  23 

And  in  your  hearts  in  treacherous  wise 
Let  such  vain  thoughts  run  on. 

Consider  what  your  end  will  be 
Before  you  farther  go ; 

The  Crown  of  Lilies  joyfully 
Will  hang  you  in  a  row! 

(Waving  handkerchief  as  he  sings  it  falls  among 
sacks;  he  takes  another  glass  of  wine.)  Essex 
keeps  me  here  in  this  exile — there  are  some  who 
say  it  is  jealousy.  I  have  not  the  chance  to 
show  myself  off  before  Her  Grace,  even  to  write 
a  report.  But  I  go  dine  with  him  to-night  to 
drink  the  Queen's  health  before  he  goes  north. 

Antony:  Well,  I  won't  delay  you,  Captain 
(Leading  him  to  the  door),  I  being  proud  to  have 
showed  you  that  likeness,  and  to  be  the  same 
thing  as  dealer  with  the  Court. 

Headley:  Oh,  yes,  it  was  all  a  mistake;  we 
must  look  in  some  other  place  for  that  rascally 
deserter.  (Turns  back  at  door.)  Ah,  I  have 
dropped  my  handkerchief.  (Goes  towards  sacks, 
as  Peter,  who  has  looked  out,  puts  down  his  head.) 
There  is  some  noise,  a  rustling 

Antony:    It  is  but  a  mouse  in  the  flour  sacks. 

Headley:     I  thought  I  saw  something  shaking. 

Antony:  A  mouse — nothing  but  a  mouse. 
I  know  that  mouse  well. 

Widow  Greely:     (Catching  up  clothes-basket  and 


24  The  Canavans 

getting  between  Headley  and  sacks.)  Your  honour 
might  want  some  starching  done  and  crimping. 
This  woman  and  myself  are  the  best  in  the  whole 
town. 

Widow  Deeny:  (Going  beside  her.)  Great  at 
frills  we  are  and  anything  that  is  for  show.  Lace 
for  the  cuffs  or  the  like. 

Headley:  Go  then  to  the  Castle  and  see  to 
my  ruffles.  They  are  not  fit  for  me  to  wear 
at  the  dinner  to-night.  I  suspect  them  of  having 
been  ironed  with  a  rusty  cannon-ball. 

Widow  Greely:  We  will  go  up  there  on  the 
minute.  We  will  follow  your  honour  and  the 
troops. 

Headley:  Very  good.  It 's  not  easy  to  be  too 
attentive  to  ruffles.  (Is  going  but  turns  again.) 
But  where  is  my  laced  handkerchief?  (Pushes 
past  women.)  It  must  have  dropped  among  the 
sacks.  (He  pokes  in  sword.  A  loud  shriek  is  heard 
and  Canavan  stands  up.) 

Canavan:  Spare  me!  Spare  me!  I  hope  I 
have  not  been  thrust  through  with  any  sort  of 
a  poisoned  dagger! 

Headley:  You  are  the  deserter  I  am  looking 
for! 

Canavan:  Oh,  such  a  thing  to  say!  I,  that 
never  left  the  sound  of  the  mill-wheel! 

Headley:  As  well  as  deserting,  you  stole  this 
pack. 


The  Canavans  25 

Canavan:  Blessed  if  I  ever  saw  it  till  within 
the  last  half  hour! 

Headley:    You  have  disguised  yourself. 

Canavan:  Any  one  would  do  that  for  safety, 
and  a  wicked  troop  of  men  at  his  door! 

Headley:  You  were  making  your  way  to  join 
the  rebels. 

Canavan:  They  would  not  take  me  if  I  would 
join  them!  I  would  make  no  fist  at  all  of 
fighting.  It  would  melt  the  marrow  of  O'Neill 
himself  to  hear  the  screams  I  would  let  out  of 
me,  and  the  first  gun  going  off!  They  would 
as  soon  take  me  among  them  as  they  would 
weaken  their  drop  of  spirits  with  the  shiver  of 
the  water  from  the  mill-race!  Speak  up  for  me, 
Antony,  and  tell  him  who  I  am  and  what  I  am! 

Antony:  He  is  but  a  poor  crazy  hawker  I 
befriend  an  odd  time. 

Canavan:    I  am  not !    I  am  the  miller. 

Antony:  He  has  been  drinking  a  drop  too 
much — 

Canavan:    I  was  not.     I  am  sober! 

Antony:    Light-headed   he   is — innocent — 

Canavan:    I  am  not  innocent! 

Antony:    Would  n't  do  any  grain  of  harm — 

Canavan:    Let  you  not  decry  me! 

Antony:    As  quiet  as  a  child — 

Canavan:    Let  you  stop  defaming  me! 

Antony:    A  simpleton — 


26  The  Canavans 

\ 

Canavan:     No  more  than  yourself! 

Antony:    Ah,  my  poor  Jack! 

Canavan:    That  is  not  my  name! 

Antony:    I  thought  you  had  forgotten  it. 

Canavan:     It  is  you  are  miscalling  me! 

Antony:  (Tapping  forehead.)  It  is  easy  known 
the  moon  is  at  the  full. 

Canavan:    My  curse  upon  the  moon! 

Antony:    He  is  quiet  at  other  times. 

Canavan:    I  will  not  be  quiet,  I  will  tell — 

Antony:    Ah,  tell  tale,  tell  tale! 

Canavan:    I  am  the  miller! 

Antony:    A  fanciful  fellow. 

Canavan:    I  am  Canavan  the  miller! 

Antony:  (Sitting  down  on  table.)  I  gave  him 
shelter  and  clothed  him,  and  now  he  says  he  is 
myself. 

Canavan:  Get  out  of  this,  you  scheming 
juggler,  you! 

Antony:  Go  back  to  your  sleep,  my  poor 
Jack,  and  I  forgive  you. 

Headley:  Make  an  end  of  this  clatter!  One 
or  other  of  you  is  a  rogue. 

Canavan:  That  's  a  true  word!  It  is  he  is 
the  rogue!  I  am  honest!  I  am  no  rebel! 

Headley:  It  was  guilt  that  made  you  hide 
among  the  sacks. 

Canavan:  It  was  he  hid  me,  it  was  he  dis- 
guised me.  All  I  wanted  was  to  keep  myself 


The  Canavans  27 

safe!  It  is  his  own  safety  he  was  thinking 
of. 

Antony:    Oh,  my  poor  wandering  Jack! 

Canavan:  Wandering  yourself!  It  is  he  is 
a  stroller  and  a  rambler  and  a  deceiver  and 
a  bad  character,  and  a  mocker  and  a  disturber 
and  a  rogue  and  a  vagabond,  and  a  deserter 
from  the  Queen's  troops. 

Antony:  Look  now,  Captain,  would  you  say 
that  object  to  be  the  great  miller,  Canavan? 

Canavan:  Object  yourself!  I  '11  indict  you 
for  scandallation !  Save  me,  save  me!  I  am  of 
your  own  blood — the  province  knows  you  are  a 
Canavan  the  same  as  myself — Henry  Canavan, 
that  was  reared  in  Waterf ord ! 

Headley:  (Pushing  him  away.)  Presumptuous 
trader!  Audacious  clown!  You  must  be  silenced! 
You  are  both  rebels,  a  libeller  of  loyalists  and 
a  deserter  from  the  Queen!  I  shall  have  some- 
thing to  write  a  report  of  at  last,  to  lay  before 
the  royal  feet!  (Turns  to  door.)  Here,  men, 
come  and  seize  these  prisoners!  (To  Antony  and 
Canavan.)  To  the  Castle  now  to  be  warded  for 
the  night!  You  shall  both  be  executed  at  dawn! 

Curtain 


ACT  II 

Scene:  A  room  at  the  Castle.  A  bed,  a  chair, 
a  window,  a  heap  of  rubbish  in  corner  and  a 
large  basket  of  turf.  A  lighted  lantern 
hanging  from  wall.  Antony  asleep  on  the  bed, 
his  pack  under  his  head. 

Canavan:  (Walking  up  and  down  and  wring- 
ing his  hands.)  Rise  up,  Antony,  and  waken! 
Any  one  would  think  there  was  a  sleeping-pin 
in  your  head! 

Antony:  (Stretching  himself.)  Why  are  you 
wakening  me?  Is  it  time  to  rise  up? 

Canavan:  Time!.  What  way  can  you  sleep 
at  all,  and  go  slugging  through  the  night  time? 
Do  you  remember  we  are  mewed  up  as  prisoners 
in  the  Castle,  and  locked  and  bolted  and  gaoled? 

Antony:  The  waking  is  better  than  the  dream 
I  had.  I  was  dreaming  the  people  were  shout- 
ing me. 

Canavan:  Is  it  nothing  to  you  what  you 
have  brought  me  to,  with  your  follies  and  your 
clowneries? 

28 


The  Canavans  29 

Antony:  Brought  yourself  to,  it  seems  to  me, 
with  your  hiding  and  your  crouching  in  the 
sacks. 

Canavan:  Would  any  one  now  think  that  a 
thing  to  hang  a  man  for,  to  have  striven  to 
keep  himself  safe?  Hiding  is  it?  Why  would 
nature  teach  the  rabbits  to  hide,  and  the 
badgers  to  live  in  clefts,  if  there  was  harm  in 
it  and  rebellion?  And  the  otter  to  sink  to  the 
water's  depths?  I  could  have  proved  all  that 
to  the  Captain,  if  you  had  but  given  me  time 
to  speak! 

Antony:  I  spoke  soft  and  blathered  him; 
you  would  have  been  safe  enough  if  you  had 
but  held  your  tongue. 

Canavan:  It  was  you  put  me  in  danger, 
making  a  mockery  of  me,  and  miscalling  me 
and  decrying  me.  He  would  have  had  respect 
for  me  if  it  wasn't  for  that. 

Antony:  He  would  not  have  seen  you  at  all, 
if  you  had  not  gone  stirring  and  shaking  in  the 
sacks. 

Canavan:  What  way  could  I  help  it,  and  I 
panting  and  quivering  the  way  I  was?  And 
that  sword!  What  could  any  man  do  but  call 
out  and  he  getting  a  thrust  of  a  sword?  My 
chest  was  never  in  the  same  place  since,  with 
the  start  I  got.  Oh,  tell  me  now,  Antony,  is  it 
certain  we  are  near  our  death? 


30  The  Canavans 

Antony:  The  dawn  is  not  far  off.  Cousin 
Headley  said  it  was  to  be  at  dawn. 

Canavan:  (Groaning.)  To  die!  To  die!  Is 
it  to  die  I  am  going!  (He  walks  up  and  down 
mopping  forehead.)  Is  it  I  myself  am  alive  and 
hearing  it,  that  I  am  going  to  my  death? 

Antony:  That  was  what  the  Captain  said, 
and  his  men  that  were  locking  the  door. 

Canavan:  Death!  Death!  That  is  a  thing 
I  always  had  a  great  fear  of.  There  are  many 
things  I  was  always  in  dread  of,  but  I  think 
that  the  most  thing  was  death.  I  thought  I 
had  it  kept  a  long  way  off  from  me — I  never 
travelled  by  water,  through  the  fear  drowning 
would  smother  me,  or  on  horseback  through  the 
fear  of  being  knocked,  or  any  way  at  all,  if  I 
could  by  any  means  stop  in  the  house. 

Antony:  Where  is  the  use  of  raving  and 
crying?  Death  is  not  a  mill-wheel  you  can  stop 
at  your  will. 

Canavan:  Death!  Death!  I  thought  I  was 
safe  from  any  death  but  maybe  death  on  the 
pillow.  And  I  had  myself  barricaded  against 
that  itself.  There  was  not  a  day  hardly  that  I 
was  without  mint  twigs  tied  around  the  wrist,  or 
yarrow  within  the  stocking,  or  an  elder  leaf  for 
protection  against  the  falling  sickness!  Drink- 
ing every  night  carrots  to  clear  the  blood,  and 
knapweed  to  ease  the  bones,  and  dandelion  to 


The  Canavans  31 

strengthen  the  heart,  and  gentian  to  keep  off 
fever;  the  nightmare  charm,  the  toothache 
charm,  the  charm  to  quell  a  mad  dog.  And 
with  everything  a  bit  of  camomile  in  my 
drink — for  our  grandmother  lived  to  a  hundred 
years  with  the  dint  of  camomile! 

Antony:  Well,  it  is  not  yourself  that  will  live 
to  a  hundred  years.  It  is  best  for  you  give  your 
mind  now  to  what  is  on  the  other  side  of 
death. 

Canavan:  That  is  the  worst!  That  is  the 
worst!  To  be  going  maybe  before  this  day  is 
out,  shivering  and  forlorn,  into  some  strange 
giddy  place — it  might  be  with  the  body  chang- 
ing about  you,  and  it  might  be  getting  giddy 
through  the  air — or  maybe  put  into  some  strange 
new  shape.  There  was  a  woman  I  heard  of  was 
put  under  the  bridge  beyond,  working  out  her 
penance  seven  years — I  would  not  like  that,  to 
be  starved  and  consumed  under  a  bridge. 

Antony:  Hearten  yourself  now,  you  might  be 
put  in  the  shape  of  a  hare. 

Canavan:  I  would  not  like  to  be  put  in  the 
ugly  shape  of  any  beast,  or  to  be  spreading  terror, 
rattling  my  chains  in  the  night  time. 

Antony:  Take  courage.  It  is  not  likely  you 
would  be  able  to  frighten  any  person  at  all. 

Canavan:  And  all  the  rabble  of  the  parish  to 
be  looking  at  me  as  I  die!  And  not  one  I  sup- 


32  The  Canavans 

pose  will  dare  to  coffin  me,  or  to  lay  me  in  any 
grave  worth  while? 

Antony:  Never  fear,  if  no  other  one  does  it, 
the  crows  will  give  you  a  safe  burying. 

Canavan:  The  widows  might  bury  me  in  the 
night  time ;  they  had  always  a  great  respect  for 
me.  But  tell  me  this,  Antony,  is  it  hanged 
we  are  to  be,  or  is  it  beheaded  we  will  be?  Is  n't 
it  beheaded  traitors  do  be?  Is  it  not  as  traitors 
they  are  killing  us,  little  as  I  deserve  it  myself? 

Antony:  Many  a  man  would  be  proud  of 
the  honour  of  being  beheaded. 

Canavan:  What  way  will  it  be  with  me,  I 
wonder,  and  I  after  losing  my  head?  And  if  it 
is  in  the  night  time  the  women  lay  my  relics  in 
the  grave — is  it  the  right  head  will  be  placed  to 
the  right  body,  or  will  I  be  mixed  up  with 
yourself?  (Rocking  himself  as  he  walks.)  Will  I 
be  going  up  to  the  Judgment  with  the  sins  of 
another  man's  body?  Is  it  all  your  own  sins  I 
might  have  to  answer  for,  and  I  making  excuses 
for  my  own?  It  is  little  I  ever  did  to  harm 
any  person  in  the  world.  I  never  drank  nor  beat 
any  one.  But  how  would  I  know  what  bad  be- 
haviour you  may  have  had?  It  is  likely  you  were 
breaking  the  law  of  God  through  every  day  of 
the  year.  I  would  n't  wonder  if  you  were  drunken 
and  quarrelsome,  going  after  women — grasping 
and  greedy — prone  to  gambling. 


The  Canavans  33 

Antony:     Cheating  and  stealing — 

Canavan:     Cursing  and  swearing. 

Antony:    Blaspheming  and  perjuring — 

Canavan:    A  scoffer  and  mocker. 

Antony:  Working  with  witches,  committing 
sacrilege,  robbing  the  poor  box,  coining  false  money 
— what  are  you  talking  of?  A  hundred-murderer! 

Canavan:  Oh,  do  you  tell  me  so !  A  murderer ! 
A  coiner!  A  blasphemer!  Oh,  you  scum  of  the 
world!  I  that  have  one  head  only,  to  have  a 
body  of  that  sort  joined  on  to  it  for  eternity !  I 
that  did  n't  know  the  name  hardly  of  that  tribe 
of  inhibited  sins!  I  that  kept  myself  out  of  every 
temptation !  It  is  many  a  time  I  stopped  in  my 
loneliness  that  I  might  not  have  occasion  to  sin! 
My  curse  upon  you,  Antony  Canavan,  what 
brought  you  back  into  Ireland  at  all! 

Antony:  Quit  roaring  and  crying,  and  let  your 
last  end  be  a  credit  to  you.  There  can  no 
harm  happen,  your  name  to  go  up.  There  is  no 
occasion  for  you  to  shape  yourself  to  be  timorous, 
as  there  is  for  me. 

Canavan:  This  is  no  time  I  tell  you  to  be 
humbugging,  and  death  beckoning  at  me  the  way 
it  is! 

Antony:  Turn  your  mind  from  that,  and  give  it 
to  making  your  will.  Stretch  out  now  and  write 
it  in  favour  of  myself.  In  my  opinion  I  will  not 
die,  my  name  being  down  the  way  it  is. 


34 


The  Canavans 


Canavan:  Ah,  don't  be  talking!  How  can  I 
be  thinking  of  wills  and  I  so  near  my  end?  If  I 
had  a  way  to  will  my  treasure,  I  would  leave 
all  to  provide  for  the  safety  of  my  own  soul ! 

Antony:  I  will  lay  out  a  share  to  do  that 
much  for  you.  Tell  me  where  is  it  you  have  it 
hid. 

Canavan:  I  will,  I  will!  It  is  a  great  thing 
it  should  be  a  help  to  me  at  the  last!  The  most 
of  it  is  in — where  now  at  all  is  it?  In  what 
corner  or  cleft  have  I  it  hid?  I  knew  where  it 
was  and  I  coming  here.  But  wherever  it  was,  it  is 
gone  from  my  mind. 

Antony:    Hurry  on  now  and  remember. 

Canavan:  Am  n't  I  trying  to  remember?  But 
I  cannot  with  the  dint  of  the  dread  that  is  upon  me. 

Antony:  (Shaking  him.)  Search  your  mind 
and  think  of  it. 

Canavan:  Am  n't  I  ransacking  my  mind?  Have 
I  no  care  for  my  own  soul?  But  every  time  I 
try  to  make  it  out,  I  see  nothing  before  me  but  a 
gallows  and  an  axe. 

Antony:  (With  another  shake.)  Summon  your 
wits  now. 

Canavan:  Don't  be  ill-using  and  abusing  me! 
It  is  tossed  and  tattered  my  mind  is.  I  give  you 
my  last  solemn  oath,  my  memory  of  the  hiding 
place  is  gone.  I  would  give  the  half  of  my  treas- 
ure to  anyone  would  tell  me  where  it  is! 


The  Canavans  35 

Antony:  Look  at  here  now,  I  to  find  a  way  to 
get  you  out  of  this,  what  will  you  give  me  of  your 
riches,  to  start  me  in  some  trade  will  keep  my  name 
down? 

Canavan:  All!  All  that  I  have!  I  swear  it! 
I  won't  keep  back  so  much  as  a  miserable  star- 
vation farthing. 

Antony:  That  is  great.  I  will  find  a  way  of 
living  will  never  let  my  name  be  heard  but  by 
my  own  customers  and  in  my  own  street.  There 
will  be  no  fear  of  shouts  and  praises  for  me  from 
this  out. 

Canavan:  Make  no  delay!  Save  me!  Oh, 
what  way  can  you  save  me? 

Antony:    I  will  see  what  I  can  do  with  this. 
(Takes  a  rope  from  rubbish  in  corner  and  knots 
another  to  it,  twisting  and  tying  in  a  piece  of  ribbon 
Jrom  his  pack.) 

(A  knock  at  the  door.) 

Canavan:  There  is  some  one  knocking  at  the 
door!  Oh,  it  is  some  new  danger! 

Widow  Greely:  (Looking  through  grating  in 
door.)  Are  you  living  yet,  Miller  Canavan? 

Canavan:  I  am — I  think — but  hardly — it  is  not 
until  dawn  we  are  to  be  made  an  end  of. 

Widow  Deeny:  We  are  till  now  settling  out  the 
Captain's  shirts;  he  bade  us  make  a  clean  job  of 
them.  We  made  our  way  up  before  going,  to 
enquire  after  you. 


36  The  Canavans 

Widow  Greely:  We  were  thinking  it  might  be 
comfortable  to  you  to  leave  your  last  wishes  with 
us;  there  will  be  no  one  else  to  pay  respect  to 
them,  yourself  and  your  cracked  brother  being 
dead. 

Widow  Deeny:  It  would  be  a  pity  the  money 
you  minded  so  well  to  be  going  into  any  wrong 
hands 

Widow  Greely:  The  Captain  ought  not  to  be 
getting  it,  letting  on  not  to  know  his  own  race. 

Widow  Deeny:  Those  ruffians  of  soldiers  might 
seize  on  it,  and  they  setting  fire  to  the  mill,  to 
fatten  that  red-haired  battle- cock  that  is  preying 
upon  us  all. 

Widow  Greely:  If  you  give  us  authority  over 
it,  we  will  not  forget  the  repose  of  your  soul. 

Canavan:  Be  easy  will  you,  my  head  is  thrown 
to  and  fro!  I  wish  I  could  leave  it  to  be  laid  out 
for  my  soul !  But  to  my  grief  and  my  misfortune 
it  fails  me  to  remember  where  I  have  it  hid. 

Widow  Greely:  To  the  poor  you  could  leave 
alms  from  it  to  open  you  the  gates  of  Heaven. 

Canavan:  (Taking  his  head  in  his  hands.)  Wait 
now — I  put  it  supposing  in  the  one  place  yester- 
day— and  to-morrow  I  changed  it  to  another.  I 
can  partly  remember  yesterday,  but  blindfold  me 
if  I  can  remember  where  it  was  to-morrow! 

Widow  Deeny:  I  am  sure  where  it  was  twelve 
hours  ago,  the  time  that  you  were  talking  with 


The  Canavans  37 

ourselves,  and  that  is  under  the  second  first  board 
from  the  door. 

Widow  Greely:  The  board  you  drew  the  sack 
over,  and  you  after  coming  into  the  room. 

Widow  Deeny:  The  board  you  put  your  foot 
upon,  and  the  pedlar  coming  into  the  house. 

Canavan:  What  are  you  saying?  You  knew 
the  places  I  kept  my  money? 

Widow  Deeny:  The  time  you  had  it  in  the 
chimney,  we  could  know  it  by  the  soot  upon 
your  cap. 

Widow  Greely:  The  time  it  was  hid  in  the 
stable,  the  bees  made  an  attack  on  you  through 
the  smell. 

Canavan:  Oh,  the  spies!  The  peerers!  The 
pryers!  The  magpies!  The  bloodhounds!  The 
witches!  Was  ever  a  man  in  such  danger  and 
such  peril  of  his  life?  To  be  watched  and  be 
nosed  and  be  scented  that  way!  To  be  tracked 
like  a  fox  to  his  den!  I  not  to  be  safe  on  my 
own  floor,  or  by  my  own  hearthstone!  Is  there 
no  place,  within  or  abroad,  where  a  man  can 
keep  himself  safe?  The  world  never  saw  a 
greater  wonder  than  I  not  being  murdered  for 
my  gold ! 

Antony:  It  's  a  queer  thing  to  be  wasting 
time  talking.  Bid  them  look  for  the  key,  if  you 
have  a  mind  to  escape. 

Canavan:    Where  is  the  use  of  escaping  out 


38  The  Canavans 

of  this,  and  those  ones  having  knowledge  of  the 
most  lonesome  thoughts  of  my  heart ! 

Widow  Deeny:  Is  it  an  answer  you  are  giving 
us,  Miller  Canavan? 

Canavan:  (To  widows.)  What  are  you  jab- 
bering and  jangling  for?  Can't  you  look?  Do  you 
see  e'er  a  key? 

Widow  Greely:  It  is  very  dark  in  the  place 
where  we  are  to  search  out  a  small  thing  like  a 
key. 

Canavan:  Search  in  every  place  I  tell  you. 
I  know  every  place  a  key  can  be  hid.  It  might  be 
in  the  pocket  of  a  coat — or  in  the  finger  of  a  glove 
that  would  be  lying  on  a  shelf — or  concealed  under 
a  cloth  that  would  be  hanging  from  the  wall. 

Widow  Deeny:  It  should  be  in  some  place. 
If  it  was  a  dog,  it  would  bite  you.  But  I  can 
find  no  trace  of  it  at  all. 

Canavan:  There  are  many  good  places  to 
hide  it  in — I  often  hid  a  key  of  my  own 
— in  under  the  ashes  of  the  hearth  or  put  in  a 
loaf  of  bread  and  a  slice  closing  up  the  hole! 

Widow  Greely:  There  is  a  fire  alight  on  the 
hearth.  I  have  myself  scorched,  and  no  key  to 
be  found. 

Widow  Deeny:  I  see  no  bread  or  anything  to 
be  eaten  at  all.  And  what  is  worse  again,  I 
hear  horses  coming  into  the  yard.  It  is  likely  it 
is  the  Captain  come  home. 


The  Canavans  39 

Widow  Greely:  We  had  best  not  be  here  when 
he  comes.  I  am  sorry  indeed  we  could  do  nothing. 
But  we  will  be  coming  back  again  to  see  you  hanged. 

Antony:    Look  if  it  might  be  in  the  key-hole. 

Widow  Deeny:  So  it  is  in  the  lock  all  the 
while.  I  would  have  found  it  long  ago  if  the 
miller  had  but  left  bothering  me.  Here  it  is. 
(Throws  it  through  grating.)  Little  good  it  will  do 
you,  it  is  too  late!  It  is  much  if  we  make  our 
escape.  (They  go.) 

Canavan:  (Picking  it  up.)  Oh,  open  the 
door.  Oh,  I  can't  get  it  into  the  hole.  Oh, 
my  hand  is  shaking — there  they  are  in  the 
room  (Laughter  and  voices  heard),  it  is  too  late. 
(The  Captain's  voice  is  heard  singing  rather 
tipsily.) 

Antony:  We  might  make  a  dash  through 
them. 

Canavan:  Oh,  I  cannot  do  that!  I  can 
hardly  stand! 

Antony:  Try  my  plan  then.  I  looked  out 
there  when  we  came  in.  (Gets  on  chair  and 
looks  out  of  window  and  fastens  rope  to  stanchion.) 
There  was  a  guard  below,  and  we  coming  here — 
there  is  no  one  there  now — this  window  is  not 
far  above  a  little  sloping  roof,  we  can  drop 
on  it  with  the  help  of  this  rope,  and  from  that 
to  another,  and  there  's  a  buttress  will  help  us  to 
the  ground.  The  night  dark,  the  town  and  country 


40  The  Canavans 

to  befriend.  It  's  a  good  job  the  Captain  has  as 
good  as  no  head  at  all.  Here,  Peter,  go  on  first. 

Canavan:  Is  it  to  get  out  of  the  window  we 
must? 

Antony:  That  is  it,  and  to  drop  on  to  the 
roof.  It  is  no  great  length  of  a  drop. 

Canavan:  I  cannot  do  it,  I  cannot  do  it.  I 
am  scared  of  going  out  into  the  clouds  alone. 

Antony:  Well,  let  me  go  first,  and  I  '11  be  a 
stay  to  you. 

Canavan:  You  must  not  go.  You  might 
not  wait  for  me  at  all. 

Antony:    Go  through  so  yourself. 

Canavan:  I  will  not.  How  can  I  tell  what 
danger  there  might  be  on  the  other  side? 

Antony:  Get  up  on  the  chair  and  look  out. 
It  is  nothing  to  be  afraid  of  at  all. 

Canavan:  (Getting  up  and  looking  out.)  I 
could  not  face  it  without  I  was  a  swallow  or 
a  thrush.  I  am  certain  I  would  fall.  My  head 
would  go  spinning  like  a  wheel! 

Antony:  Go  on.  Why  would  I  go  to  these 
rounds  to  break  your  neck,  if  I  was  craving  to 
break  it? 

Canavan:  If  it  was  a  level  I  might  face  it. 
But  there  is  great  danger  of  slipping  on  a 
roof. 

Antony:    There  is  the  rope  to  hold  to. 

Canavan:     It  might  give  with  me.     It  is  no 


The  Canavans  41 

safe  thing  to  hazard  your  life  on  the  strength  of 
a  strand  of  a  rope.  (Gets  down  from  chair.) 

Antony:  Well,  hang  or  climb  or  run  out  at 
the  door.  I  myself  will  go  this  way.  (Gets  on 
chair.) 

Canavan:  (Falling  on  knees  and  holding  his 
feet.)  Oh,  don't  go,  Antony!  Do  not  go  and 
leave  me  in  this  case.  Oh,  listen  to  him,  listen 
to  him  singing!  Oh,  I  am  in  dread,  I  am  in 
dread! 

Antony:  (Shaking  him  off  and  getting  down.) 
You  miserable  shaking-scraw !  It  's  a  charm  you 
should  carry  against  trembling,  of  the  right 
hind  leg  of  a  hare.  Is  there  any  use  in  striving 
to  save  you  at  all?  Though  it  might  be  no 
hard  job  to  outwit  Cousin  Headley.  If  I  had 
but  a  sheet,  a  ghost  would  do  the  job. 

(Headley  is  heard  singing  close  to  the  door.) 

Antony:  (Opening  pack.)  Crown  of  lilies! 
That  's  it.  We  '11  allure  him  with  Queen 
Elizabeth.  (Takes  out  dress  and  other  things.) 

Canavan:    Oh,  he  is  coming  in! 

Antony:  Clear  the  turf  out  of  that  basket — 
hurry. 

Canavan:  That  basket —  (Throws  out  sods  of 
turf.)  A  good  thought — it  might  cover  me — the 
rods  of  it  would  not  shiver  the  way  the  sack 
did.  (Sits  down  and  pulls  it  over  him.)  If  I  could 
get  into  the  corner  now —  (Begins  crawling  to 


42  The  Canavans 

corner  with  basket  over  him.)  I  would  be  as 
hidden  as  a  snail  in  its  shell — if  he  does  not  think 
now  of  spitting  me  with  that  sword. 

(Antony  meanwhile  has  slipped  on  the  dress 
and  arranged  his  hair  with  his  fingers,  and  put 
on  ruff  and  headdress.  He  bears  a  resemblance 
to  the  portrait  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  He  takes  up 
basket  and  rubs  his  face  in  miller's  floury 
smock.) 

Canavan:  Oh,  oh,  oh,  is  it  the  executioner! 
Oh,  I  feel  the  axe!  It  's  as  cold  as  amber! 
(Rushes  to  the  bed,  kneels  and  hides  his  face  in 
cloak,  and  remains  there  rocking  and  moaning.) 

(Antony  steps  into  basket  spreading  out 
skirt  of  dress  over  it  as  Headley  is  heard 
close  to  door.) 

Headley:      Go    to    the    guard   room.      I    will 
have  an  hour's  sleep  before  dawn.     (A  trampling 
heard,  footsteps  die  away.    Headley  sings  again.) 
(Antony  raps  on  floor  with  poker.    He  has  a 
pair  of  slippers  in  hand,   but  having 
failed  to  put  them  on  slips  them  into 
pocket.      Headley    comes     in  singing. 
He     suddenly     catches    sight    of    the 
figure  in  coif  and  silk  dress.) 
Antony:    Upon  your  knees! 
Headley:    Who!    Who! 

Antony:  Elizabeth,  Regina  Ingilterra,  Francia, 
Hibernia,  Deo  gratia,  defendore  Fides. 


The  Canavans  43 

Headley:  (Sinking  on  his  knees.)  The  Queen! 
The  excellent  and  glorious  person  of  her  Majesty ! 

Antony:    You  are  before  your  sovereign. 

Headley:  Oh,  angelic  face !  Where  the  red  rose 
has  meddled  with  the  white. 

Antony:  This  is  the  man  of  whose  beauty  I 
have  heard — who  sent  me  sonnets. 

Headley:    Oh,  Queen,  Queen! 

Antony:  I  made  a  secret  journey.  I  would 
know  what  Essex  is  doing.  I  turned  aside.  I 
would  see  the  Apollo  of  my  army. 

Headley:  Oh,  Phoebus  blushes  to  find  himself 
outshone ! 

Antony:  This  is  your  vaunted  devotion. 
You  have  been  absent.  You  have  been  swilling 
ale.  No  one  to  guard  the  gates.  I  came  in  un- 
noticed— no  one  heard  the  beat  either  of  horsehoof  s 
or  my  royal  feet. 

Headley:  Oh,  the  fourth  of  the  Graces  has 
read  my  sonnets! 

Antony:  That  is  prose.  I  expect  a  poet  to 
talk  poetry. 

Headley:  Oh,  that  I  had  a  pen — a  pen — 
a  pen. 

Antony:  Go  on.  Essex  would  do  better  than 
that. 

Headley:  I  'd  say:  God  save  the  Queen — 
Amen,  Amen — 

Antony:    That  is  getting  on. 


44 


The  Canavans 


Headley:  Oh,  Crown  of  Lilies,  say  that  you 
forgive! 

Antony:  Do  as  I  bid  you  and  you  yet  may 
live. 

Headley:  Lay  orders,  dearest  dread,  trust  me 
again ! 

Antony:  Then  go  at  once  and  send  away 
your  men! — Look  here,  young  Apollo,  you  must 
have  the  gates  left  clear  for  me  to  go  out. 
There  must  be  no  blemish  upon  the  name  of 
Defendore  Fides! 

Headley:  I  will  go!  But  oh,  let  me  kiss  that 
royal  foot! 

Antony:  (Hastily.)  No,  no,  the  hem,  the 
hem  of  my  dress!  (Headley  kisses  it.  She  gives 
him  a  slipper.)  There  is  my  slipper;  you  may 
carry  it  away  for  a  token. 

Canavan:  (Who  has  but  just  looked  from  under 
his  cloak,  coming  forward  on  his  knees)  Oh,  your 
majesty!  Oh,  your  Grace!  Give  me  the  other 
slipper!  Let  me  have  it  for  a  sign,  a  sign  to  show 
the  hangman! 

Antony:    Who  is  this  floury  fellow? 

Canavan:  Canavan  the  miller,  your  Grace, 
no  traitor,  your  Grace — put  up  for  harbouring 
traitors.  I  am  innocent — it  was  all  a  mistake — 
I  am  no  rebel  and  no  deserter — it  was  a  brother 
of  mine — a  vagabond,  a  trickster,  a  deserter,  a 
very  dangerous  man! 


The  Canavans  45 

Antony:    Let  him  be  beheaded  in  my  name! 

Headley:  It  shall  be  done!  His  head  shall 
make  a  f6otstool  for  this  slipper! 

Antony:  (To  Headley.)  Away,  go,  take  your 
men.  Go  by  the  next  wind  to  Whitehall.  Who 
knows  what  preferment  you  may  find.  Wear 
that  slipper  round  your  neck;  come  to  the  Court 
wearing  it. 

Canavan:  I  will  go  to  Whitehall!  I  take 
the  oath  of  loyalty!  I  will  take  it  as  Mayor 
of  Scartana.  I  swear  on  this  slipper.  (Kisses  it.) 
I  swear  with  every  grain  of  my  power,  will,  wit, 
and  cunning,  to  be  loyal  and  faithful  to  your 
Grace.  God  save  the  Queen! 

Antony:  Hush!  Silence!  Close  your  eyes! 
Close  your  ears! 

Canavan:  I  will,  I  will!  I  will  never  open 
them  again  till  such  time  as  I  will  get  com- 
mandment! (Rushes  back  to  bed  and  covers  up  his 
head.) 

Antony:  (To  Headley.)  Hasten,  Poet,  hasten, 
do  not  tarry — go  through  wind  and  weather — 
think  of  our  meeting  at  Whitehall! 

Headley:     (Holding  up  slipper.) 

I  flower,  I  flower  that  was  a  barren  shoot 
I  have  a  slipper  from  the  royal  foot ! 

(Rushes  out.) 

Antony:     (Getting  out  of  basket.)    The  window  is 


46 


The  Canavans 


quickest.  Follow  me,  Peter,  by  the  window  or 
by  the  door.  (Looking  at  Canavan.)  He  hears 
me  no  more  than  the  dead!  (Gets  up  to  window.) 
Faith  it's  a  short  life  I  would  have  before  me, 
my  name  to  be  as  high  as  Queen  Elizabeth's. 
(Goes  out  of  window.  Canavan  still  kneels  at  bed, 
his  head  covered  with  his  cloak.) 


Curtain 


ACT  III 

Scene:  The  Mill  kitchen  as  before.  Antony  is 
pushing  the  dress,  ruff,  and  coif  up  the  chim- 
ney with  tongs. 

Antony:    There  goes  the  last  of  her! 

Canavan:  (Coming  in  at  door.)  What  brought 
you  running  home  from  the  Castle  before  me? 
What  is  it  you  are  doing? 

A  ntony:  Hiding  away  things  I  am,  that  are  best 
out  of  sight.  Any  one  finds  them  now,  will  be 
full  sure  it  was  a  witch  went  up  the  chimney. 

Canavan:  Well,  this  is  a  great  night  we  went 
through,  and  a  night  full  of  wonders !  The  strong- 
est! I  know  now  who  is  the  strongest!  I  am 
the  Queen's  man  now.  Oh,  she  is  the  strongest, 
a  very  fine  woman! 

Antony:    What  is  it  you  are  raving  about? 

Canavan:  That  Captain  that  has  such  power, 
an  army  at  his  command,  on  his  knees  she 
put  him;  trembling  he  was  like  oats  in  the 
breeze.  If  she  daunted  him  that  way  what  chance 
would  there  be  for  the  like  of  us? 

47 


48  The  Canavans 

Antony:  Pup,  pup,  pup,  pup!  Is  it  that  you 
are  thinking  you  saw  the  Queen? 

Canavan:  I  did  see  her  to  be  sure,  and  she 
gave  me  her  own  shoe. 

Antony:  Well,  that  was  a  great  playgame! 
Would  n't  you  think  now  it  might  be  some  one 
was  letting  on  to  be  the  Queen? 

Canavan:  She  was  not  letting  on.  There  was 
no  letting  on  in  it.  Taller  than  any  woman  ever 
stood  upon  a  floor  she  was!  She  stood  up  over 
me  the  same  as  an  elephant !  A  great  grand  voice 
she  had,  pitched  someway  squeally  like  a  woman's, 
but  strong  and  high  as  if  used  to  giving  out  orders. 

Antony:  A  great  beauty  I  suppose  she  was 
now? 

Canavan:  She  was  that.  Like  the  picture  she 
was.  (Points  to  it  on  wall.)  Long  wisps  of  hair 
as  bright  as  silver — eyes  shining  like  sparks  from 
the  forge.  I  would  sooner  go  creep  through  the 
keyhole  than  go  face  her  or  speak  to  her  again. 

Antony:  Is  it  I  that  have  that  much  beauty  on 
me?  Or  is  it  the  full  moon  is  working  in  his  eyes? 

Canavan:  (Dragging  out  arm-chair.)  Set  this 
now  to  the  rear  of  the  table,  the  same  as  you 
would  see  it  in  a  judge's  court.  I  will  tack  up 
the  picture  on  the  back  of  it  to  simulate  the  royal 
arms.  (Puts  picture  on  back  of  chair,  hammering 
in  tacks.  Then  puts  on  a  long  cloak  and  a  chain 
he  has  fetched  from  inner  room.) 


The  Canavans  49 

Antony:  Leave  those  vanities  now  for  a  while. 
You  promised  me  a  share  of  your  riches  for  to 
start  me  in  a  new  way  of  life. 

Canavan:    What  way  is  that? 

Antony:  Enter  in  some  business  I  must,  that 
will  bring  me  no  great  credit  and  will  never  send 
my  name  up  high.  Clothier,  cobbler,  cutler, 
butcher,  baker,  skinner,  tanner,  grocer,  barber, 
milkman,  butterman,  was  there  ever  a  shout  given 
out  on  the  heights  for  any  one  of  that  tribe,  since 
ever  grass  grew  on  the  fields  of  the  earth  or  of 
the  sea?  Give  me  here  now  what  will  buy  out 
some  wealthy  tradesman  in  the  town  of  Scartana. 

Canavan:  Stop  your  blather.  I  made  you  no 
promise,  or  if  I  did,  I  did  n't  rightly  know  what 
was  I  saying  with  the  terrification  in  my  mind. 
Would  you  have  a  man  bound  by  the  thing  he 
says  when  the  wits  are  out  of  him  with  fright  ? 

Antony:  Fright  or  no  fright,  a  promise  is  a 
promise. 

Canavan:  And  so  is  a  will  a  will,  and  if  a 
man  makes  his  will  in  a  hurry,  and  he  in  the 
fear  of  death,  has  he  no  power  to  cancel  it  and 
he  coming  back  from  the  grave? 

Antony:  You  said  you  would  give  me  all  you 
had,  I  to  save  you  from  the  gallows.  I  did  save 
you,  and  now  you  go  back  on  your  word. 

Canavan:  You  take  credit  that  you  saved  me ! 
You  have  a  great  opinion  of  yourself  indeed. 

VOL.  n— 4 


50  The  Canavans 

There  was  no  one  saved  me  but  the  Queen.  A 
great  woman! 

Antony:  Is  it  blind  in  the  ears  you  are,  the 
same  as  in  the  eyes?  Don't  you  know,  you  crazed 
barley-grinder,  it  was  I  myself  personated  Queen 
Elizabeth? 

Canavan:    I  do  not  know  it  indeed. 

Antony:  I  tell  you  I  did.  Is  it  that  you  will 
misdoubt  my  word? 

Canavan:  I  will  misdoubt  it.  Did  n't  I  hear 
you  saying  you  were  myself  a  while  ago?  "I  am 
Canavan  the  miller,"  you  said,  "and  that  man 
in  the  sacks  is  Crazy  Jack."  It  seems  to  me, 
Antony  Canavan,  that  you  are  very  full  of  lies! 

Antony:  (Rises.)  Will  you  give  me  nothing 
at  all? 

Canavan:  I  will  not  give  you  so  much  as  the 
point  of  a  rush,  after  the  insult  you  are  after 
putting  on  the  Queen. 

Antony:  (Goes  to  door.)  I  give  up  so.  I  will 
go  join  the  boys  that  are  fighting  in  the  woods. 
My  name  to  go  up  and  my  life  to  go  down,  it 
is  you  yourself  have  sent  me  out  to  that,  and  to 
come  to  my  death  in  the  fight. 

Canavan:    The  fight?    What  fighting  is  that? 

Antony:  I  must  go  join  the  boys  that  are 
fighting  for  to  free  Munster. 

Canavan:  (Stopping  Antony  and  shaking  him.) 
Is  it  a  rebel  you  are  telling  me  you  are?  I  am 


The  Canavans  51 

under  orders  as  Mayor  to  prosecute  and  oppress 
with  sword  and  fire  any  rebel  at  all,  any  one  that 
would  be  prejudicial  to  Her  Sacred  Majesty. 
Sword  and  fire  I  will  bring  out  against  rebels. 
Are  you  giving  heed  to  that? 

Antony:  Is  it  Protestant  you  turned  in  the 
night-time? 

Canavan:  No  hurry,  no  hurry,  till  I  will 
know  is  the  new  faith  the  safest  in  both  worlds. 
I  'm  not  one  to  say  Her  Majesty  to  be  the  real 
head  of  the  Church.  But  it 's  greatly  in  her 
favour  she  being  such  a  success.  And  no  doubt 
at  all  about  it  she  's  a  very  fine  woman,  no  doubt 
at  all  about  that. 

Antony:  Heaven  help  your  poor  head!  It  was 
the  terror  of  the  night-time  set  it  astray! 

Canavan:  At  that  time  I  had  not  understand- 
ing. I  have  taken  office  presently.  I  have  set- 
tled myself  to  the  service  of  the  Queen.  I  must 
stick  to  my  class.  What  now,  I  wonder,  are  all 
the  other  Mayors  doing? 

Antony:  Give  me  the  price  of  a  horse  and  a 
suit  itself. 

Canavan:  Would  you  suck  and  consume  my 
treasure  to  nourish  faction?  Help  you,  is  it? 
No,  but  hinder  and  impeach  and  plague  and  pro- 
secute you.  Am  n't  I  a  stay  and  a  pillar  of  the 
Government  and  of  the  law? 

Antony:    Ah,  sure,  it  would  be  more  sociable 


52  The  Canavans 

like  to  be  on  the  side  of  the  neighbours.  It 's 
a  very  lonesome  thing  being  with  the  law  in 
Scartana. 

Canavan:  Not  lonesome  at  all.  It  is  happy 
and  airy  I  am.  Look  at  all  the  high  comrades  I 
will  have,  Marshals  and  Sheriffs  and  Aldermen, 
Sergeants  at  Arms,  Constables,  Coroners,  Gaolers, 
Process  Servers  and  Justices  of  the  Peace. 
Grand  times  we  will  have  together!  Sharpening 
the  decrees  we  will  be!  Shaping  the  laws  to  the 
people  we  will  be — no,  but  the  people  to  the 
laws.  I  '11  give  them  plenty  of  gaol  according 
to  their  crimes!  Oh,  there  is  a  certain  assurance 
of  quiet  and  great  good  in  settling  yourself  to  the 
strongest.  There  is  very  great  peace  and  im- 
munity in  surrendering  our  will  to  their  commands. 

Antony:  Little  good  I  got  from  commands,  and 
I  marching. 

Canavan:  There  is  good  in  them,  if  there  is  no 
other  good  but  that  they  are  commands.  Would 
you  be  buzzing  about  at  your  own  will  the  same 
as  a  heap  of  flies?  I  tell  you  thousands  have  been 
damned  through  no  other  thing  than  following 
their  own  will  and  fancy. 

Antony:  It  is  not  long  that  the  fear  of  the 
law  would  keep  me  from  giving  you  a  clout  in 
the  jaw,  but  that  I  think  you  an  unfortunate 
creature  that  has  madness  put  upon  you  by  God. 

Canavan:     (Taking  up  chair.)    Ah,  you  savage 


The  Canavans  53 

rebel,  you!  You  ragtail  renegade!  You  stam- 
mering stroller,  you!  You  pot-picker!  You  hang- 
man's apron!  You  scabby  clown!  Would  you 
strive  and  wrestle  with  your  superior?  Would  you 
disparage  the  person  of  the  law-giver?  Would 
you  deface  the  image  of  the  Queen?  I'll  put 
the  hue  and  cry  after  you!  I'll  hack  and 
wrack  and  harry  you!  I  '11  give  you  up  to  stocks 
and  rods,  and  the  bitterness  of  martial  law! 

Antony:  Well,  now,  the  losing  of  your  wits 
has  put  great  spirit  in  you! 

Canavan:    Get  out,  out  of  that! 

Antony:  (At  door.)  Well,  the  Lord  leave 
me  the  three  faculties,  wit,  memory,  and  under- 
standing! (Goes  out,  but  looks  in  again.)  Here 
are  the  widows  now  coming,  thinking  to  see  you 
hanged. 

Canavan:  I  '11  send  you  to  the  halter  and  the 
bough !  The  widows — it 's  well  I  have  my  clothes 
of  credit  put  on,  or  they  'd  think  nothing  of  me 
at  all.  (Sits  down  in  arm-chair  and  arranges 
himself.) 

Widow  Greely:  (Coming  in.)  On  our  way  to  the 
Castle  to  see  the  hanging  we  were,  and  Antony 
is  after  telling  us  there  is  no  hanging  at  all.  I 
wish  I  had  got  word  sooner  and  I  would  not  have 
put  on  my  Sunday  cloak. 

Widow  Deeny:  I  'm  as  disconcerted  as  to  go  to 
a  wedding,  and  the  bridegroom  to  have  failed 


54  The  Canavans 

at  the  last.  We  that  would  have  buried  you  and 
welcome,  to  go  home  without  following  you  to 
the  grave! 

Widow  Greely:  A  great  deception  indeed.  They 
say  there  is  nothing  so  good  for  the  soul  as  to 
see  any  person  die  hard. 

Canavan:  Well,  you  will  not  profit  your  soul 
seeing  me  hanged,  now  or  at  any  other  time. 
I  have  a  strong  back  in  the  Queen  from  this 
out.  I  have  a  sure  token  of  that. 

Widow  Deeny:  Is  it  a  ring  or  such  like?  They 
say  Lord  Essex  has  the  Queen's  ring,  and  that  it 
will  keep  him  safe  for  ever. 

Canavan:  What 's  in  a  ring?  I  daresay  the 
Queen  gives  out  a  score  of  rings  in  the  year.  I 
have  something  from  her  own  hand  that  is  a  surer 
pledge  than  the  ring  of  day!  Look  here  now 
at  that!  (Holds  up  shoe.) 

Widow  Deeny:  A  shoe!  Nothing  but  a  little 
red  shoe! 

Widow  Greely:  You  are  not  saying,  I  suppose, 
that  this  is  the  Queen's  shoe? 

Canavan:  It  is  often  you  have  said  a  thing 
that  is  farther  from  the  truth  than  that. 

Widow  Deeny:  Mind  now  what  I  am  saying 
to  you.  Don't  meddle  with  the  Queen  at  all. 
Sure  every  man  she  ever  had  to  deal  with  was 
sent  to  the  block  the  next  day. 

Widow  Greely:     They    say   there    are    chains 


The  Canavans  55 

rattling  upon  her  that  no  one  in  this  world  can 
see. 

Canavan:  What  do  you  know  about  kings 
and  queens?  Did  you  ever  see  one  or  ever  speak 
with  one? 

Widow  Greely:  You  are  growing  light-minded, 
Peter  Canavan,  to  think  that  you  spoke  with 
one  yourself. 

Canavan:  Don't  be  calling  me  Peter!  It 's 
Your  Worship  I  am  to-day! 

Widow  Deeny:  Is  it  Mayor  you  are  now? 
It  made  you  very  consequential,  you  to  have 
taken  the  oath! 

Canavan:  I  '11  have  no  traffic  at  all  with  trait- 
ors! I  have  the  sacred  commission  to  bring  the 
country  to  loyal  simplicity.  Give  me  here  the 
ledger.  It  's  on  that  I  will  administer  the 
oath. 

Widow  Greely:  Did  n't  you  get  very  stiff  with 
taking  office?  Or  may  be  it  is  humbugging  you 
are? 

Canavan:  You  will  see  I  am  not  humbugging. 
When  I  didn't  spare  my  own  brother,  I  will 
not  spare  yourselves  or  any  rebel  at  all. 

Widow  Greely:  Was  it  some  wind  from  the 
north  made  you  turn  about  in  a  blast? 

Canavan:  Here  now,  don't  be  wilful,  you  your- 
selves will  give  an  example  to  the  whole  dis- 
trict. You  will  swear  on  this  book,  the  way  I 


56  The  Canavans 

did  on  the  shoe,  with  all  your  wit,  will,  and  cun- 
ning, to  support  the  authority  of  the  Queen. 

Widow  Greely:  (Turning  her  back  to  him.)  The 
hearing  is  failing  on  me  this  while  back  by  cause 
of  cold  I  got  through  beetling  the  clothes. 

Widow  Deeny:  (Turning  her  back.)  An  oath 
is  no  thing  to  be  taking,  when  you  are  likely  not 
to  keep  it  in  the  end.  The  beneficial  of  baptism 
you  'd  lose  breaking  it,  and  maybe  you  would 
never  see  God.  (They  edge  towards  door.) 

Canavan:  (Getting  between  them  and  door.) 
Let  you  be  humble  now,  and  limber  in  your 
heart,  and  you  '11  find  me  to  be  kind.  Sure  it  is 
through  kindness  I  am  wishful  to  bring  you,  the 
same  as  myself,  under  the  strength  of  the  Queen. 

Widow  Greely:  Her  strength  might  not  be  as 
lasting  as  you  think.  Sure  the  Pope  has  his 
blessing  promised  to  the  generation  that  will 
bring  her  low. 

Canavan:  Ah,  Job  himself  that  got  the 
heavens  on  the  head  of  his  patience,  would  grow 
surly  having  dealings  with  ye.  The  world  would 
hear  him  yelling,  and  he  to  be  arguing  with 
a  hag. 

Widow  Deeny:  I  wonder  at  you  to  be  speak- 
ing such  uncomely  words!  Our  own  old  fathers 
were  in  this  place  before  ever  there  was  a  Cana- 
van in  Scartana! 

Canavan:    Is  that  the  way    you  are   fleering 


The  Canavans  57 

at  one  in  authority?  Don't  be  turning  me  to  be 
your  enemy!  'Force  you  to  take  out  a  license 
for  your  clear  starching  I  will!  Using  foreign  im- 
portations you  are,  and  paying  no  taxes  to  the 
Queen! 

Widow  Greely:  We  are  no  clutch  of  pullets  to 
be  frighted  by  a  cloud  or  a  kite! 

Canavan:  I  '11  frame  and  fashion  your  manners 
for  you!  The  next  day  you  '11  be  late  with 
the  washing,  I  '11  indict  you  for  default  of  appear- 
ance! Tag  and  rag  from  the  riverside  to  be 
correcting  the  Mayor  on  the  bench! 

Widow  Greely:  I  'd  sooner  be  boiled,  burned, 
baked,  and  roasted  in  that  oven,  and  a  hundred 
heating  it,  than  give  in  to  your  orders  at 
all! 

Canavan:  Quit  now  being  so  stubborn  and  so 
disorderly!  If  you  are  deaf  you  are  not  dumb. 
You  'd  break  the  heart  of  any  man,  or  any  two 
men,  in  the  house. 

Widow  Deeny:  It  is  easy  seen  by  your  talk 
you  were  never  of  the  blooded  gentry!  What 
right  at  all  has  the  like  of  you  to  bereave  us  of 
our  religion  and  our  laws? 

Canavan:  Is  it  your  strength  you  would  try 
against  me?  It  is  little  I  pay  heed  to  your 
threats!  The  time  God  made  wicked  cows,  he 
gave  them  short  horns. 

Widow  Deeny:    We  are  well  able  to  revenge 


58  The  Canavans 

ourselves.     Whatever  may  be  done  in  this  district, 
it 's  the  telling  of  the  story  is  with  us! 

Widow  Greely:  Have  we  no  curses  do  you 
think?  Let  there  be  no  path  and  no  prosperity 
before  you,  from  now  to  the  womb  of  judgment ! 

Widow  Deeny:  A  gapped  shaving  to  you!  And 
a  Monday  hair-cutting!  And  the  blood  of  your 
body  to  be  in  the  bosom  of  your  shirt ! 

Canavan:  I  '11  not  let  you  quit  this  till  I  '11  get 
you  hunted  with  hounds!  Don't  be  thinking  to 
escape  me  now.  Rebellion  is  all  one  with  witch- 
craft, the  ancient  authors  said  that !  (Seizes  and 
pushes  them  into  corner.) 

Widow  Greely:  Well  now,  Mayor  Canavan,  it 
is  you  has  gained  great  courage  and  great  strength ! 

Canavan:  Why  wouldn't  I  have  courage?  I 
am  Mayor  of  Scartana,  I  am  safe  from  this  out. 
I  am  on  the  side  of  the  strongest.  I  am  Mayor 
in  the  Queen's  service,  and  I  have  this  shoe  in 
my  hand ! 

(Enter  Headley ,  his  shoe  hanging  round  his 
neck.  He  has  a  gun  in  his  hand,  which 
he  lays  down.) 

Headley:  Where  is  that  pedlar?  I  have 
searched  the  Castle,  he  is  not  there. 

Canavan:  He  came  here  out  of  the  Castle,  and 
he  is  gone  away  out  of  this. 

Headley:    He  did  not  lose  much  time. 

Canavan:    It  was  I  hastened  him. 


The  Canavans  59 

Headley:    You  should  have  kept  him. 

Canavan:    A  worthless  fellow ! 

Headley:  A  prize — did  you  hear  what  she  said? 
(Taps  shoe.) 

Canavan:    I  did,  well.     (Taps  other  shoe.) 

Headley:    She  said  she  would  wish 

Canavan:    The  place  left  empty. 

Headley:    The  deserter's  head. 

Canavan:    I  forgot  that. 

Headley:    You  told  her  he  was  a  deserter. 

Canavan:    So  he  was,  and  a  rebel. 

Headley:  She  asked  for  his  head  to  put  under 
her  royal  feet. 

Canavan:  So  she  would,  too,  and  she  being 
without  her  shoes. 

Headley:  It  would  have  been  a  love  gift  for 
me  to  proffer  to  her.  I  hurried  back  when  I 
brought  it  to  mind.  I  thought  it  would  not  take 
much  time  to  whip  off  his  head. 

Canavan:  I  knew  it  was  to  be  beheaded  we 
were. 

Headley:  I  have  wasted  time,  I  have  lost  half 
an  hour,  I  have  come  back  looking  for  a  gift  for 
my  sovereign  and  you  have  thrown  it  away.  (He 
strikes  Canavan  with  shoe.) 

Canavan:  Stop  railing  at  me  and  attacking  me ! 
I  have  a  shoe  of  my  own !  (Threatens  him  with  it.) 
I  am  grown  now  to  be  as  brave  as  a  lion ! 

Headley:    (Weeping.) 


60  The  Canavans 

It  had  been  worth  a  ballad  or  a  sonnet 

To  lay  that  head  where  she  could  step  upon  it ! 

Widow  Deeny:  His  own  kinsman's  head.  But 
he  knows  well  what  sort  of  a  present  would  the 
Queen  like. 

Widow  Greely:  Ah,  what  signifies  one  head  to 
her,  unless  it  might  belong  to  a  bishop  or  a  priest? 

Widow  Deeny:  It  is  best  for  us  to  be  going 
home;  it  is  milking  time — but  we  might  pick  up 
some  little  thing  to  bring  along  with  us.  There 
is  a  good  ruff  there  on  the  hearth —  I  suppose 
it  fell  out  of  Antony's  pack. 

Widow  Greely:  There  are  more  of  his  wearables 
in  the  chimney  (She  pulls  down  dress  with  tongs.) — 
very  grand  gaudy  stuff  indeed.  (Feels  it.) 

Headley:  That  dress!  What  is  it— what  is 
it  (Seizes  it.) — that  dress,  those  flowers — that  hem 
— surely  that  is  the  hem  that  I  kissed ! 

Widow  Deeny:  A  nice  broad  hem  it  is,  and  well 
sewed. 

Headley:  Get  out  of  this,  woman!  Leave  that 
alone!  That  is  no  thing  for  you  to  handle! 
(Drives  them  out.) 

Widow  Deeny:  (At  door.)  A  very  unmannerly 
man!  (They  go  out.) 

Headley:  (Pulling  bodice  down  from  chimney.) 
That  silk — I  am  making  no  mistake — that  ruff, 
that  headpiece —  What  has  happened — what 


The  Canavans  61 

does  it  mean — there  is  no  delusion — that  is  the 
hem  that  I  kissed. 

Canavan:  (Who  has  sat  down  at  table  examin- 
ing shoe.)  It  is  the  right  shoe  is  mine.  Then 
yours  must  be  the  left.  It  is  the  right  should 
mean  the  most  share  of  favour. 

Headley:  (Wildly.)  What  is  it  has  happened? 
You  were  here — where  is  she?  Where  is  the 
Queen's  Majesty — did  you  see  her  leave  the  room 
in  the  Castle? 

Canavan:  What  way  would  I  see  her?  "Close 
your  eyes  and  your  ears,"  she  said,  and  I  put 
down  my  head  in  the  bed.  Would  you  think  I 
would  break  the  first  order  she  laid  upon  me? 

Headley:  But  her  dress  is  here — you  must 
know  something 

Canavan:  When  I  rose  my  head  and  looked 
around,  there  was  no  sign  of  her  at  all,  and  I 
made  my  way  home.  But  quick  as  I  was,  that 
lying  rogue  Antony  was  here  before  me. 

Headley:     What  was  he  doing? 

Canavan:  He  was  thrusting  something  up 
the  chimney  with  the  two  hands  of  a  tongs. 

Headley:  The  Saints  of  Heaven  preserve  us! 
What  did  he  say? 

Canavan:  I  asked  him  nothing,  and  he  told 
me  nothing,  unless  lies.  It  was  well  to  get  quit 
of  him.  He  would  be  no  sort  of  credit  to  a  loyal 
man  at  all. 


62 


The  Canavans 


Headley:     (Shaking  him.) 
has  happened? 


Don't  you  see  what 


Canavan: 
with  him. 
Headley: 
Canavan: 
Headley: 
Canavan: 


He  has  made  off,  and  my  joy  be 


You  were  his  abettor! 
A  very  unkind  thing  for  you  to  say. 
You  are  concealing  his  crime. 
Stop  that,  I  will  not  be  molested! 
I  have  the  Queen's  right  shoe!    I  will  not  quail 
before  any  man! 

Headley:  You  miserable  villain!  Don't  you 
see  I  have  discovered  that  your  fellow  criminal 
has  killed  the  Queen! 

Canavan:    Killed  the  Queen  is  it? 

Headley:  You  saw  him  hiding  her  dress  in 
the  chimney. 

Canavan:    I  suppose  that  was  it  now. 

Headley:    He  had  made  an  end  of  her  first! 

Canavan:    You  say  he  did  that? 

Headley:    He  must  have  done  it. 

Canavan:    Well  now,  that  is  a  great  overthrow! 

Headley:  What  can  he  have  done  with  the 
body?  He  could  not  have  carried  it  down  the 
Castle  stairs? 

Canavan:    There  was  a  rope  from  the  window. 

Headley:  I  saw  it!  A  rope  from  the  window, 
ribbons  on  it — it  is  certain  he  let  down  the 
body  into  the  river! 

Canavan:    That  was  a  good  thought  now. 


The  Canavans  63 

Headley:  There  is  a  strong  current  in  the 
stream  that  would  sweep  it  away. 

Canavan:  Out  into  the  sea.  So  it  would  too. 
It 's  with  mermaids  she  '11  be  doing  her  trav- 
elling from  this  out,  grabbing  well-looking  men 
from  the  rocks. 

Headley:    But  her  death  will  be  heard  of. 

Canavan:  It  is  certain  it  cannot  be  long 
hid. 

Headley:    The  murderer  will  be  searched  for. 

Canavan:    He  is  safe  enough,  never  fear. 

Headley:  Some  one  will  be  suspected.  Essex 
will  take  revenge. 

Canavan:  He  may  not  have  the  chance.  It 
is  not  himself  will  be  uppermost  now,  not  hav- 
ing the  support  of  the  Queen. 

Headley:  You  will  be  questioned — they  will 
put  you  on  the  rack. 

Canavan:  They  need  not,  I  will  tell  all  before 
the  torture  will  begin. 

Headley:  They  will  say  you  did  it.  They 
will  think  you  yourself  have  killed  the  Queen. 

Canavan:  What  do  you  take  me  for?  What 
an  opinion  you  have  of  me !  I  would  not  take  the 
credit  from  the  man  that  deserves  it,  and  that  is 
my  only  brother,  Antony  Canavan! 

Headley:    You  confess  it  was  he  did  it? 

Canavan:  (Examining  clothes.)  I  never  thought 
now  he  would  have  the  force  to  do  a  thing  like 


64  The  Canavans 

that,  and  she  so  fine  a  woman  and  he  no  great 
hero  of  a  man. 

Headley:    Was  it  done  with  a  sword? 

Canavan:  A  sword  would  be  the  quickest,  I 
would  have  heard  a  shot  of  a  gun. 

Headley:    A  stroke  from  behind? 

Canavan:  No  discredit  if  it  was.  It  would 
be  very  hard  to  stand  up  and  to  face  a  woman  of 
that  sort. 

Headley:    To  do  it  so  quick! 

Canavan:  Within  three  minutes,  I  suppose, 
of  you  yourself  going  out.  Well,  Antony  Can- 
avan, I  never  thought  you  would  turn  out  so 
great  a  man! 

Headley:    The  black-hearted  coward! 

Canavan:  Coward  yourself!  You  yourself 
kneeled  to  the  Queen,  and  humbled  yourself,  and 
cried  for  mercy.  But  my  brother,  without  arms, 
or  help  of  soldiers,  or  troops  at  his  call,  or 
meat  in  his  stomach,  it  was  he  made  an  end 
of  her.  A  great  man,  a  great  man,  there  can  be 
no  doubt  at  all  of  that ! 

Headley:    You  make  a  boast  of  it? 

Canavan:  Why  would  n't  I  make  a  boast  and 
he  my  own  brother?  Oh,  he  will  leave  a  great 
name  after  him  in  history!  "Queen  Elizabeth 
was  very  strong,"  they  will  say,  "she  killed  lords 
and  priests  and  bishops ;  but  poor  Antony  Canavan 
was  stronger;  it  was  he  killed  Queen  Elizabeth!" 


The  Canavans  65 

Headley:  Oh,  stop,  stop!  (Puts  hands  over 
ears.) 

Canavan:  I  will  be  going  now  to  join  him. 
The  whole  country  will  be  up  supporting  him. 
Essex  did  you  say?  Neither  Essex  nor  another 
will  dare  let  a  squeak  out  of  himself,  before  the 
man  that  made  an  end  of  the  Queen! 

Headley:    You  boasted  of  your  loyalty ! 

Canavan:  So  I  am  loyal,  to  be  sure.  Loyal 
to  the  strongest,  I  always  said  I  would  be  that.  I 
have  but  one  head  only,  and  the  place  I  will  shel- 
ter it  is  under  the  strongest  shelter  to  be  had. 

Headley:  A  terrible  thought  has  come  to  me. 
Suppose,  after  all,  the  danger  may  fall  upon  me? 
It  may  be  known  it  was  to  see  myself  she  came! 

Canavan:  Don't  be  affrighted.  I  will  protect 
you.  Sure  I  said  before  you  are  of  our  own  blood, 
a  Canavan,  Henry  Canavan.  Who  would  be  safe 
if  the  kindred  of  Antony  Canavan  would  not 
be  safe? 

Headley:  Yes,  yes,  we  are  of  one  blood, 
but  it  would  be  better  the  crime  not  to  be  found 
out.  I  will  destroy  all  the  testimony.  I  will  burn 
these  clothes!  (Seizes  dress.) 

Canavan:  (Stopping  him.)  Quiet  now  and  easy. 
There  will  be  two  words  to  that. 

Headley:  Her  death  cannot  be  hidden.  But 
who  can  prove  that  she  came  to  Scartana? 
Even  Essex  does  not  know  that. 

VOL.  II — 5 


66  The  Canavans 

Canavan:  Wait  a  while.  I  say  these  testi- 
monies should  be  kept. 

Headley:  She  said  she  kept  her  coming  a 
secret. 

Canavan:  Just  so.  And  I,  being  Antony's 
brother,  they  might  not  accept  my  witness. 

Headley:  They  may  think  she  was  drowned 
crossing  some  stream. 

Canavan:  And  the  clergy  would  be  taking  the 
praise  of  it,  saying  they  brought  it  about  by  their 
prayers. 

Headley:  Let  them  think  Essex  himself  made 
away  with  her. 

Canavan:  So  help  me,  no  Englishman  will 
ever  take  that  credit  to  himself. 

Headley:    She  had  to  pass  many  enemies. 

Canavan:  I  would  n't  doubt  O'Donnell  to  say 
he  did  it,  or  O'Neill  to  be  claiming  it  for  the 
North. 

Headley:  (Putting  dress  and  ruff  on  hearth.) 
What  can  they  accuse  me  of  without  evidence? 

Canavan:  It  is  I  myself  and  Antony  will 
carry  the  evidence  through  Munster!  (Takes  dress 
off  hearth,  Headley  puts  it  back.)  I  will  frustrate 
that!  Antony  will  have  it  for  a  banner  through 
the  whole  of  the  five  provinces! 

Headley:  Give  me  the  tinder-box.  I  will 
kindle  the  heap ! 

Canavan:    Here  is  an  answer  to  your  kindling! 


The  Canavans  67 

(Takes  water-jug  and  empties  it  on  hearth.)  Am  I 
going  to  allow  evidence  to  be  made  away  with 
by  fire?  It  seems  to  me  you  are  forgetting  that 
I  am  Mayor  of  Scartana. 

(Enter  the  two  widows.) 

Widow  Greely:  Take  warning,  Miller  Canavan, 
your  brother  is  coming  against  you  with  a  pick. 

Widow  Deeny:  To  bring  away  your  gold  by 
force  he  is  going,  where  you  would  not  give  it 
for  his  aid. 

Widow  Greely:  Bad  as  you  treated  us  a  while 
ago,  we  would  be  loth  to  see  a  neighbour  to  be 
robbed. 

(Antony  comes  in  with  a  pick,  goes  to 
board  near  door,  and  begins  to  rip 
it  up.) 

Antony:  This  is  the  board  where  the  widows 
said  it  was  hid — the  second  board  from  the  door. 
It  is  no  robbery  I  to  get  what  I  was  promised,  and 
what  I  am  in  need  of  for  a  way  of  living. 

'  (Widows  rush  to  stop  him.) 

Widow  Greely:  Let  you*  quit  robbing  the 
miller,  I  tell  you,  or  I  '11  have  you  scandalised 
through  the  town. 

Canavan:  Whisht  your  wordy  mouth!  Leave 
meddling  with  my  brother ! 

Headley:  Oh,  he  is  tearing  up  a  board!  It 
is  under  that  board  he  has  the  body  buried! 
He  is  going  to  bring  it  away!  Oh,  I  will  not 


68  The  Canavans 

see  it!  I  will  not  look  at  those  royal  blood- 
stains on  that  pearl-white  neck!  Oh,  it  would 
haunt  me,  it  would  start  me  in  a  faint!  No, 
no,  I  will  not  look!  (Turns  away  and  hides  his 
face  in  ruff.) 

Antony:  (Shaking  off  Canavan.)  I  got  the 
promise,  and  I  will  bring  away  my  share  of 
money  in  spite  of  you! 

Canavan:  Oh,  Antony,  my  dear  brother, 
take  it!  Take  all  that  I  have! 

Antony:  (Taking  a  bag  from  under  board.) 
I  '11  get  handsome  work  now!  I  'm  thankful  to 
you,  Peter.  It 's  a  wonder  you  to  have  turned 
kind. 

Canavan:  Ah,  why  would  n't  I  be  kind  after 
the  kindness  you  have  showed  to  the  whole 
nation?  Take  my  cloak  now,  and  my  chain 
to  put  around  your  neck ! 

Antony:  It  's  not  an  hour  hardly  since  I 
was  a  ragtail,  and  a  fly-swarm,  and  a  rebel,  and 
a  breaker  of  the  laws! 

Canavan:  You  can  make  new  laws  yourself 
now  for  the  good  of  the  whole  nation ! 

Antony:  You  drove  me  out,  where  I  would 
not  swear  to  the  Queen ! 

Canavan:  What  ailed  you  not  telling  me  you 
had  done  better  than  to  swear  to  her?  Take 
it,  take  it,  take  all  my  treasure  and  my  gold! 
You  will  want  it,  you  will  want  it  for  the 


The  Canavans  69 

suit  a  general  should  wear!  All  that  I  have 
is  yours!  You  are  my  only  brother!  I  am 
proud  of  you,  Antony  Canavan,  for  the  deed  you 
have  done  this  day !  (Hugs  him.) 

Headley:  Is  he  gone?  Has  he  the  body  car- 
ried away?  No,  but  he  is  there  still!  Wretch! 
Monster!  Traitor!  Rebel!  I  will  not  leave  you 
living!  (Draws  sword  and  rushes  at  him.) 

Widow  Greely:  (Seizing  him.)  Whatever 
Antony  Canavan  may  have  done,  I  will  not  let 
a  Queen's  man  attack  him. 

Widow  Deeny:  The  Queen's  army  to  make 
an  attack  on  him,  we  are  sure  he  has  done  some 
good  thing ! 

Canavan:  Bad  cess  to  you,  Henry  Canavan! 
Let  you  quit  making  that  assault.  Tie  him 
to  the  chair.  I  '11  learn  him  manners!  I  '11 
learn  him  to  attack  my  only  brother!  (He 
and  the  widows  overcome  Headley  and  tie  him  to 
chair.  Canavan  and  Antony  kneel  down  by  board 
searching  for  more  money.) 

Headley:  Send  me  back  to  Lord  Essex!  It 
is  as  well  for  me  go  confess  all.  "She  is  dead," 
I  will  say,  "it  is  my  fault,  it  was  on  my  account 
she  came  here,  on  the  head  of  my  features  and 
my  face.  Disfigure  my  face,"  I  will  say. 
"Destroy  my  beauty,  strike  off  the  hand  that 
wrote  the  verses  that  brought  the  queen  to  her 
death!" 


70  The  Canavans 

Widow  Greely:  Brought  her  to  her  death !  Are 
you  in  earnest  saying  the  Queen  was  brought 
to  her  death? 

Headley:  It  is  true,  it  is  true.  But  it  was 
that  traitor  Antony  that  killed  her,  it  was  he 
struck  that  wicked  blow. 

Antony:  (Making  ready  to  go.)  I  wonder, 
Peter,  for  what  length  of  time  should  I  be  a 
miller  before  I  'd  get  the  name  of  a  hare's  heart 
like  your  own? 

Widow  Greely:  You  to  have  a  hare's  heart ! 
The  heart  of  a  roadside  gander,  and  it  defending 
its  brood ! 

Widow  Deeny:  The  heart  of  a  horned  heifer, 
its  first  calf  being  brought  away ! 

Canavan:  The  candle  of  bravery  and  courage 
you  are,  the  tower  of  the  western  world!  Oh, 
my  comely  Antony,  it  is  to  you  I  will  give  the 
branch ! 

Antony:  Have  you  a  mind  to  destroy  me  and 
to  shorten  my  days?  Let  ye  stop,  I  say, 
from  praising  me  and  from  putting  up  my 
name. 

Canavan:  Bashful  he  is,  no  way  high  in  him- 
self, as  bashful  and  as  humble  as  a  child  of 
two  years!  I  tell  you,  Antony  Canavan,  it  is 
you  are  the  pride  of  your  race ! 

Widow  Greely:  Our  blessing  for  ever  on  the 
man  that  put  terror  on  the  heart  of  the  tyrant ! 


The  Canavans  71 

Widow  Deeny:  A  shout  on  the  three  heights 
of  Ireland  for  the  mightiest  hero  of  the  Gael! 
(They  shout  and  with  Canavan  begin  to  dance  slowly 
round  him.) 

Antony:  What  at  all  are  you  doing?  What 
at  all  have  you  against  me?  Is  it  to  destroy 
me  you  would,  putting  a  big  name  on  me  to 
lead  me  to  my  death?  (They  shout  "Hi  for 
Antony.")  Is  there  no  one  at  all  in  the  whole 
country  to  shout  for  that  you  must  go  shouting 
for  myself?  You  to  have  done  that,  I  am  a  gone 
man.  It  is  my  grave  every  shout  is  digging  in 
the  clay,  and  it  fs  boards  for  my  burying  you 
are  readying  with  your  dance.  It  would  be  as 
well  for  me  to  go  out,  and  meet  my  death  in  some 
fight. 

Canavan:  To  fight  is  it?  There  will  be  no 
fighting  where  you  will  be,  and  where  myself  will 
be!  The  enemy  will  run  before  us  the  same  as 
long-tailed  lambs!  It  is  the  sight  of  my  brave 
Antony  will  set  them  flocking  into  the  tide! 

Widow  Deeny:  (Looking  out  of  door.)  Oh,  let 
you  look!  A  troop  of  soldiers  and  Lord  Essex  at 
the  head  of  them!  They  are  passing  down  the 
road  by  the  mill-stream! 

Antony:  (Sits  down  beside  Headley.)  So  long 
as  you  are  all  joined  in  a  league  for  to  bring 
about  my  death,  I  will  wait  for  it  here  and  now. 
There  is  no  use  at  all  trying  to  escape  a  prophecy. 


72  The  Canavans 

Give  me  your  hand,  Henry  Canavan,  it  is 
the  one  blow  might  put  an  end  to  the  two  of 
us. 

Headley:  (Clinging  to  him.)  It  is  happy  for 
the  widows  spinning  wool  and  flax  and  tow,  and 
that  never  went  knocking  about  among  the  great 
ones  of  the  earth.  It  would  be  best  for  the  two 
of  us,  Antony,  we  never  to  have  laid  an  eye  at 
all  on  the  Queen,  as  it  is  little  she  served  us 
in  the  end. 

Widow  Greely:  Will  you  look  at  the  pair  of 
them  trembling,  as  weak  as  water  and  as  pale! 
It  is  you  yourself,  Miller  Canavan,  is  the  hardiest 
in  the  house  at  this  time. 

Canavan:  (Seizing  gun.)  Ha!  Is  that  so? 
So  it  is  too.  Queen  Elizabeth  was  strong,  Antony 
Canavan  was  stronger — what  is  he  now  beside 
me?  Wait  now  till  I  have  my  eye  cocked  to 
take  aim  at  Lord  Essex  and  his  men!  (Takes 
aim  out  of  door.) 

Widow  Deeny:  Do  not  be  so  daring,  to  destroy 
the  whole  army,  and  you  without  protection 
unless  it  is  the  thatch  above  your  head. 

Canavan:  Little  I  care  for  them!  I  'm  as 
venturesome  as  a  robin  in  the  snow!  I  would 
fire,  and  it  to  bring  earthquakes!  (Fires  off  gun 
from  door,  and  falls  back  from  kick  of  gun.  Wi- 
dows shriek  as  he  fires,  then  look  cautiously 
out.) 


The  Canavans  73 

Widow  Greely:  We  are  as  good  as  dead  this 
time  anyway. 

Widow  Deeny:  No,  but  taking  off  his  hat 
Lord  Essex  is,  and  saluting  the  miller  as  he  goes. 

Antony:  A  salute  to  himself  he  thought  it  to 
be,  there  being  no  bullet  in  the  gun. 

Canavan:  (Looking  out  of  door.)  To  take  off 
his  hat  he  did!  To  bow  and  to  bare  his  head  he 
did!  To  bid  his  men  hasten  their  horses  he  did, 
and  to  run  before  myself  and  my  gun!  (Turns 
and  holds  out  his  arm  over  Headley  and  Antony.) 
Let  you  not  be  daunted!  It  is  I  will  protect  the 
whole  of  ye !  Where  is  fear?  It  is  banished  from 
the  world  from  this  day !  The  strongest !  Is  n't  it 
the  fool  I  was  wasting  time — wasting  the  years — 
looking  here  and  there  for  the  strongest?  I  give 
you  my  word,  it  was  not  till  this  present  minute 
that  I  knew  the  strongest  to  be  myself! 

Curtain 


THE   WHITE  COCKADE 


TO  R.  G.,  SCENE  PAINTER 


Copyright,  1905,  by  LADY  GREGORY. 

75 


PERSONS 

Patrick  Sarsfield       .       .       .     EARL  OF  LUCAN 
King  James  II. 

Carter  .       .  SECRETARY  TO  KING  JAMES 

A  Poor  Lady 
Matt  Kelleher  OWNER  OF  AN  INN  AT  DUNCANNON 

Mary  Kelleher HIS  WIFE 

Owen  Kelleher HIS  SON 

First  Sailor 

Second  Sailor 

First  Williamite 

Second  Williamite 

A  Captain  and  other  Williamites 


ACT  I 

Scene:  An  Inn  kitchen  at  Duncannon.  Owen 
Kelleher  lying  on  the  hearth  playing  jack- 
stones.  Mrs.  Kelleher  rubbing  a  bit  of  meat. 
A  barrel  beside  her. 

Owen:  One — and  one — and  five — that 's  scatters. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Leave  playing  jackstones,  Owen, 
and  give  me  a  hand  salting  the  meat. 

Owen:  Two —  and  two  —  and  one  —  that's 
doubles.  There  is  time  enough.  Sure  it 's  not 
to-day  it 's  wanted. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  What 's  put  off  till  harvest  is 
put  off  for  ever.  It 's  best  to  catch  the  pig  by 
the  leg  when  you  get  her.  The  French  ship 
might  be  going  before  we  have  the  barrels  ready, 
and  some  other  might  get  the  profit. 

Owen:  The  ship  didn't  get  orders  yet  from 
King  James.  The  sailors  were  not  sure  was  it 
to  Dublin  he  would  bid  them  go,  or  to  some 
other  place.  It  is  time  for  us  to  be  hearing  news 
of  him.  I  have  a  mind  to  go  ask  it. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Come  over  and  rub  a  bit  of 
77 


78  The  White  Cockade 

the  meat,  and  leave  thinking  about  King  James. 
We  hear  enough  talk  of  him,  listening  to  poor 
Lady  Dereen. 

Owen:  You  have  not  enough  of  salt  to  pack 
the  meat  till  my  father  will  bring  it  back  from 
Ross. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  The  lamb  teaching  its  mother 
to  bleat!  If  I  have  not  itself,  I  have  what 
serves  for  rubbing  it.  (She  pushes  back  dresser 
from  before  a  side  door.)  Be  moving  now,  and 
come  down  to  the  cellar  till  we  bring  up  an- 
other leg  of  the  pork. 

Owen:  (Going  on  playing.)  One — and  one — 
and  one — crow's  nest. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  (Going  through  door  to  cellar.) 
I  give  you  my  word  it  is  as  hard  to  make  you  stir 
as  to  make  a  hedgehog  run. 

(Owen  whistles  "  The  White  Cockade") 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  (Coming  back  with  another  bit  of 
meat.)  It  is  yourself  finds  the  hob  a  good  har- 
bourage! 

Owen:  It  is  not  worth  my  while  to  be 
bringing  it  up  bit  by  bit — if  it  was  to  bring  up 
the  whole  of  it  now 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  I  suppose  not!  I  wonder  now 
what  is  worth  your  while  if  it  is  not  to  mind  the 
place  and  the  inn  that  will  be  coming  to  your- 
self some  day.  It  is  a  poor  hen  that  can't  scratch 
for  itself! 


The  White  Cockade  79 

Owen:  There  might  be  something  worth  doing 
outside  this  place. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  (Scornfully.)  There  might! 
It 's  the  hills  far  off  that  are  green ! 

Owen:  It  is  beyond  the  hills  I  would  like  to 
be  going.  There  is  no  stir  at  all  in  this  place. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  What  is  it  at  all  you  are 
wanting  or  talking  about? 

Owen:  There  is  fighting  going  on  through  the 
country. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  And  for  all  the  profit  it  will 
bring  ourselves  it  might  be  the  fighting  of  the 
hornless  cows!  It  is  best  for  us  to  be  minding 
our  own  business. 

Owen:  There  used  to  be  great  fighters  in 
Ireland  in  the  old  times. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  If  there  were,  they  had  no  other 
trade!  Every  crane  according  to  its  thirst. 
Believe  me,  if  they  had  found  as  good  a  way 
of  living  as  what  you  have,  they  would  not  have 
asked  to  go  rambling.  I  know  well  it  is  an  ex- 
cuse you  are  making,  with  your  talk  of  fighting 
and  your  songs,  not  to  be  doing  the  work  that 
is  at  your  hand.  You  are  as  lazy  as  the  tramp 
that  will  throw  away  his  bag.  You  would  have 
got  the  sluggard's  prize  from  Aristotle  of  the 
books! 

Owen:     Well,  it 's  good  to  be  best  at  something. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:    If  you  saw  a  car  and  horse 


8o  The  White  Cockade 

coming  at  you,  you  would  not  stir  out  of  the 
rut!  You  would  spend  your  night  on  the  floor 
sooner  than  go  up  a  ladder  to  the  loft!  Stir! 
You  would  not  stir  yourself  to  turn  the  crispy 
side  of  a  potato  if  you  had  but  the  one  bite  only! 

Owen:     One — and  four — high  castles. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  I  tell  you  a  day  will  come 
when  you  will  grow  to  the  ground  the  way  you 
never  will  reach  to  heaven! 

Owen:  It  is  time  for  you  to  leave  off  faulting 
me.  There  is  some  one  coming  to  the  door. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  (Looking  out  of  door.)  It  is 
the  poor  Lady.  She  wasn't  here  this  good 
while.  It  is  a  pity  she  to  have  gone  spending 
all  for  the  King  the  way  she  did,  and  to  go 
in  beggary  and  misery  ever  after.  (Owen  sings) — 

The  cuckoo  has  no  word  to  say, 
Sharp  grief  has  put  us  under  rent, 
The  heavy  cloud  is  on  the  Gael, 
But  comely  James  will  bring  content ! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  I  believe  it  is  herself  put  the 
half  of  those  songs  in  your  head.  (Pulls  dresser 
over  door.)  It  is  best  shut  this  door.  There 
is  no  use  too  many  eyes  seeing  it. 

(Old  Lady  comes  in.  Her  hand  is  over  her 
eyes  as  if  half  blind.  She  wears  ragged 
clothes  that  have  once  been  handsome.) 


The  White  Cockade  81 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  You  are  welcome,  my  poor 
Lady  Dereen. 

Lady:  I  thank  you,  Mary  Kelleher.  I  have 
always  found  a  welcome  in  this  house,  and  a 
shelter  from  the  heat  and  the  rain. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Who  should  get  a  welcome 
here  if  you  would  n't  get  it,  Lady?  And  I  born 
and  reared  on  your  own  estate  before  you  lost  it 
through  the  wars. 

Lady:  I  have  had  great  losses,  but  now  I  will 
have  great  gains.  I  lost  all  through  Charles;  I 
will  get  all  back  through  James.  My  eyes  are 
tired  watching  for  the  sun  to  rise  in  the  east. 
The  sun  of  our  success  is  rising  at  last! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  It  is  time  for  success  to  come 
to  yourself,  Lady,  indeed.  I  remember  the  time 
you  had  great  riches. 

Lady:  I  did  not  grudge  anything,  my  lord  did 
not  grudge  anything  to  Charles  Stuart,  our  King. 
I  shall  be  rich  again  now;  I  never  lost  my  faith. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Well,  I  would  never  have  faith 
myself  in  the  thing  I  would  n't  see. 

Lady:  I  lost  all  through  Charles;  I  will  get 
all  back  through  James! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  That  you  may,  Lady.  I  would 
sooner  you  to  have  kept  it  when  you  had  it.  A 
wren  in  the  fist  is  better  than  a  crane  on  loan. 
It's  hard  getting  butter  out  of  a  dog's  mouth. 

Lady:    The  Stuart  has  been  under  the  mists 

VOL.  II— -6 


82  The  White  Cockade 

of  night.  The  sun  is  rising  that  will  scatter 
them.  The  whole  country  is  going  out  to  help 
him.  The  young  men  are  leaving  the  scythes  in 
the  meadows;  the  old  men  are  leaving  the  sta- 
tions and  the  blessed  wells.  Give  me  some  white 
thing — some  feathers — I  have  to  make  cockades 
for  the  King's  men. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  (Giving  her  feathers  from  the 
dresser.)  Look  at  that  now!  These  come  as 
handy  as  a  gimlet.  I  was  plucking  ducks  yes- 
terday for  the  captain  of  the  French  ship. 

Lady:  (Taking  feathers  and  beginning  to  fasten 
them  together  with  shaking  hands.)  James,  our  own 
King,  will  bring  prosperity  to  us  all. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  So  long  as  we  get  it,  I  would  n't 
mind  much  what  King  brings  it.  One  penny 
weighs  as  good  as  another,  whatever  King  may 
have  his  head  upon  it.  If  you  want  to  grow 
old,  you  must  use  hot  and  cold. 

Lady:  Is  it  nothing  to  you,  Mary  Kelleher,  that 
the  broken  altars  of  the  Faith  will  be  built  up 
again? 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  God  grant  it!  Though,  in- 
deed, myself  I  am  no  great  bigot.  I  would  always 
like  to  go  to  a  Protestant  funeral.  You  would 
see  so  many  well-dressed  people  at  it. 

Lady:  (Beginning  to  make  another  cockade.)  I 
must  be  quick,  very  quick.  There  will  be  a  hard 
battle  fought.  William,  the  Dutchman,  has 


The  White  Cockade  83 

brought  trained  men  from  all  the  countries  of 
Europe.  James  has  gone  out  to  meet  him. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Is  it  going  to  fight  a  battle  he 
is?  It  is  likely  he  will  have  sent  orders  to  the 
French  ship,  so.  It  is  to  take  his  orders  it  was 
here.  The  dear  knows  where  it  might  be  to- 
morrow, and  the  pigs  we  have  killed  left  on  our 
hands!  Only  for  you  giving  me  no  help  the  way 
you  did,  Owen,  the  meat  would  be  nearer  ready 
now  than  what  it  is.  Look  at  him  now,  Lady ; 
maybe  he  '11  mind  what  you  will  say.  Bid 
him  leave  lying  on  the  floor  at  midday. 

Lady:  It  is  time  you  should  get  up,  boy; 
there  is  plenty  of  work  to  do. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  That  is  what  I  am  saying. 
Work  for  all  hands. 

Lady:     Work   for   all,    and   no   time   to   lose. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  That  is  what  I  am  saying. 
What  is  put  off  till  harvest 

Lady:  It  is  not  right  for  a  young  man  with 
strong  hands  to  be  taking  his  ease.  (Owen  gets 
up  and  stands  awkwardly.) 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  And  his  mother  not  sparing 
herself. 

Lady:  You  lying  there,  while  there  is  a  friend 
out  under  the  heat  of  the  day  fighting  our  battle. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  My  poor  man!  So  he  is.  Striv- 
ing to  bring  the  salt. 

Lady:      (Giving  Owen  a  cockade.)      Take  that 


84  The  White  Cockade 

White  Cockade.  Go  out,  go  northward.  Join 
the  King's  army,  go  and  fight  for  the  King! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:     To  fight  for  the  King,  is  it? 

Lady:  Hurry,  hurry,  you  may  be  in  time  to 
strike  a  blow  for  him!  (Sings  with  a  feeble 
voice) — 

Our  heart's  desire,  our  pleasant  James, 
Our  treasure  and  our  only  choice! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Look  here  now,  Lady,  have 
sense.  I  have  but  the  one  son  only,  and  is  it 
sending  him  away  from  me  you  would  be? 

Lady:  Our  King  has  no  son;  he  has  false 
daughters.  We  must  give  our  sons  to  the  King! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  It  is  my  opinion  we  must 
keep  them  to  mind  ourselves.  What  profit 
would  he  get  joining  the  King's  army?  It  is  not 
the  one  thing  to  go  to  town  and  come  from  it. 

Lady:  (Putting  hand  on  her  arm.)  It  would 
be  a  pity  to  disappoint  so  great  a  friend. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  That  is  true,  but  reason  is 
reason.  I  have  but  the  one  son  to  help  me;  and 
it  is  what  I  say:  you  can't  whistle  and  eat  oatmeal; 
the  gull  can't  attend  the  two  strands;  words  won't 
feed  the  friars.  How  will  Owen  mind  this  place, 
and  he  maybe  shot  as  full  of  holes  as  a  riddle? 

Owen:  When  you  have  your  minds  made  up 
if  it 's  to  go  fighting  I  am,  or  to  go  rubbing  the 


The  White  Cockade  85 

bacon  I  am,  it  will  be  time  enough  for  me  to 
stir  myself. 

Lady:  Do  you  grudge  your  service?  Will  you 
betray  the  King  as  the  English  betrayed  him? 
O  my  heart  leaps  up  with  my  pleasant  Stuart! 

Owen:  I  would  like  well  to  go  serve  the 
King;  but  I  don't  know  how  could  I  do  it. 

Lady:  You  say  that  because  of  idleness.  It 
is  through  idleness  you  have  come  to  have  a 
coward's  heart,  the  heart  of  a  linnet,  of  a  trader, 
a  poor,  weak  spirit,  a  heart  of  rushes. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  You  are  too  hard  now,  Lady, 
upon  the  boy.  Leave  him  alone.  There  is  no 
man  knows  which  is  best,  hurry  or  delay.  It 's 
often  it 's  not  better  to  be  first  than  last. 
Many  a  tattered  colt  makes  a  handsome  horse. 
The  first  thread  is  not  of  the  piece.  It's  not 
the  big  men  cut  all  the  harvest.  When  the  time 
comes,  the  child  comes.  Every  good  comes  by 
waiting. 

Lady:  King  James  in  the  country  wanting  all 
his  helpers! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Let  every  herring  hang  by  its 
own  tail. 

Lady:     It  is  for  our  comfort  he  has  come. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  He  might.  It 's  to  please  itself 
the  cat  purrs. 

Lady:  (Putting  hand  on  Owen's  shoulder.)  The 
Stuart  in  the  field! 


86  The  White  Cockade 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  (Seizing  other  shoulder?)  The 
meat  in  the  cellar! 

Lady:     Our  hero  in  danger! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:     Our  bacon  in  danger! 

Lady:    Our  prince  under  mists! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:      Our  meat  under  mildew! 

Lady :    Oh !    The  great  Stuart ! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  (Striking  it.)  The  empty 
barrel ! 

(Owen  turns  from  one  to  the  other,  undecided. 
Voices  are  heard  singing  a  French  song) 

Lady:     Is  that  the  army  of  the  King? 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  It  is  what  is  worse.  It 's  the 
French  sailors  coming  for  the  meat  and  it  not 
ready. 

(Two   sailors   come   in   singing) — 

Madame,   si  vous  voulez  danser 
Vite  je  vous  prie  de  commencer 
Avec  Fair  des  Frangais, 
Avec  Tair  de  la  Cour. 

First  Sailor:  We  are  come,  Madame,  for  the 
pork  and  the  bacon. 

Second  Sailor:    And  de  sau-sa-ges. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:     I  haven't  them  ready  yet. 

First  Sailor:  We  must  sail  this  night  before 
morning. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Did  you  get  any  orders  from 
King  James? 


The  White  Cockade  87 

First  Sailor:  We  did  not  get  them.  He  is 
fighting  in  the  north,  at  some  river.  We  go  to 
Dublin.  If  he  succeed,  we  carry  news  to  France. 
If  he  is  beaten,  he  will  want  help  from  France. 
We  sail  at  sunrise  when  the  tide  is  high. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Well,  look  now;  I  will  have 
the  meat  for  you  before  that. 

First  Sailor:  All  right.  There  is  moon.  We 
will  come  to  the  pier  before  sunrise,  after  the 
midnight. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  There  is  a  quick  way.  Maybe 
you  don't  know  the  outer  door  to  the  cellar? 

Second  Sailor:  I  do  know  it.  I  did  put  wine 
in  there  last  week — no  duty;  no  douane.  (Puts 
finger  on  nose.) 

(Matt    Kelleher    comes    bursting    in.    He 
throws  a  bag  of  salt  on  the  floor.) 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Here  is  himself,  and  he  run- 
ning like  a  •  hare  before  hounds.  Give  me 
here  the  salt. 

Matt:  Salt!  salt!  salt!  Who  would  be  talking 
of  salt  ? 

Mrs.  Kelleher:    The  ship  is  going. 

Matt:  Where  is  the  use  of  salt  on  such  a 
day  as  this,  unless  it  might  be  to  make  a  man 
drouthy  ? 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  I  tell  you  I  was  as  idle  with- 
out it  as  a  smith  without  bellows. 

Matt:    To  make  a  man  drouthy!    To  give  him 


88  The  White  Cockade 

a  good  thirst,  the  way  he  will  drink  to  the 
King. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Indeed,  if  signs  are  signs,  I 
think  you  yourself  have  been  drinking  to  the 
King! 

Matt:  We  will  all  drink  to  the  King!  Where 
are  the  glasses? 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Quiet  yourself  now.  You  are 
too  good  a  customer  to  yourself;  putting  on  the 
mill  the  straw  of  the  kiln. 

Matt:  Would  you  begrudge  me  so  much  as 
one  glass  on  a  day  like  this? 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  What  has  happened  on  this 
day  more  than  any  other  day? 

Matt:  This  day  has  brought  news  of  the 
battle,  I  tell  you — of  the  great  battle  at  the 
Boyne! 

First  Sailor:  The  Boyne— that  is  it!  That 
is  the  same  story  we  heard. 

Matt:  Where  would  you  hear  your  story?  It 
was  away  in  Ross  I  got  mine.  There  was  news 
brought  to  the  barracks  there. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Tell  me  now,  was  the  battle 
fought  in  earnest? 

Matt:  Fought  is  it?  It  is  it  that  was  fought! 
A  great  battle — the  ground  that  was  hard  turn- 
ing soft,  and  the  ground  that  was  soft  turning 
hard,  under  the  trampling  of  feet!  The  sea 
coming  in  on  the  land,  and  the  land  going  out 


The  White  Cockade  89 

into  the  sea!  Fire  from  the  edges  of  every  sword! 
The  blood  falling  like  a  shower  in  harvest  time! 
The  air  black  with  ravens ;  the  river  reddened  with 
blood!  Sarsfield  going  through  the  field  the  same 
as  fire  through  furze. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  What  there  is  good  comes 
out  in  the  blood.  Sure  he  is  of  the  race  of 
Conall  Cearnach.  What  would  an  apple  be  like 
but  an  apple?  What  would  the  cat's  son  do  but 
kill  mice  ? 

Matt:   King  James  raging  like  a  lion  in  every  gap ! 

Lady:  Oh !  I  knew  it !  I  knew  it !  The  brave 
Stuart! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  And  who  was  it,  will  you  tell 
me,  that  won  in  the  fight  ? 

Matt:  Sure,  am  n't  I  telling  you,  if  you  would 
listen?  The  man  has  won  that  should  win, 
great  King  James! 

Lady:  I  knew  the  sun  would  rise  at  last  for 
victory! 

Matt:  You  will  get  your  rights  now,  Lady. 
We  '11  all  get  our  rights.  (Sings)  — 

Three  times  the  fairest  of  the  Scots, 
The  blossomed  branch,  the  Phoenix  rare, 
Our  secret  love,  our  only  choice, 
The  shining  candle  of  the  war! 

Lady:  My  lord  spent  all  upon  Charles.  James 
will  pay  all  back  again! 


go  The  White  Cockade 

Matt:  He  will,  he  will!  You  will  get  your 
estates,  Lady,  and  your  white  halls!  We  will 
drink  the  cellar  dry  the  day  you  get  your  estates. 
There  will  be  red  wine  of  Spain  running  through 
your  white  halls! 

Lady:  I  have  his  promise!  I  have  the  King's 
seal  to  his  promise ! 

(She  takes  a  large  seal  and  folded  parchment 
from  a  bag  hanging  at  her  side  and 
shows  it.) 

Matt:    It  is  a  good  seal — a  grand  seal.   Drink 
a  health,  I  say,  to  the  King's  seal!    Let   me   go 
down  to  the  cellar  for  spirits — no,  but  for  wine! 
(He  pushes  back  dresser.    Mrs.    Kelleher 
pulls  him  from  the  door.) 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  You  will  not  go  down.  Thirst 
makes  thirst! 

Matt:  (To  sailors.)  Go  down  there,  I  say. 
Bring  up  a  bottle — two  bottles — plenty  of 
bottles!  (They  go  down.) 

Lady:  I  will  go  to  Dublin.  I  will  go  to  his 
Court.  I  will  show  him  the  promise  and  the 
seal. 

Matt:  You  will,  ma'am.  He  can't  deny  the 
seal. 

Lady:  I  will  put  on  my  silks  and  my  velvets.  I 
will  have  jewels  about  my  neck.  I  will  bid  my 
waiting- women  to  spread  out  my  dress.  (Makes 
a  gesture  as  if  spreading  out  a  train.) 


The  White  Cockade  91 

Matt:  It  is  you  will  look  well,  Lady,  as  you 
did  in  the  old  times,  with  your  silks  and  your 
jewels. 

Lady:  I  will  come  to  the  door.  The  coach 
will  stop — the  young  lords  will  hand  me  out  of 
it — my  own  young  kinsmen  will  be  there. 

Matt:  I  will  go  see  you  in  the  coach,  Lady. 
It  is  I  myself  will  open  the  door! 

Lady:  They  will  bring  me  to  the  throne-room. 
I  will  leave  my  cloak  at  the  door.  I  will  walk 
up  to  the  throne !  (She  walks  a  few  steps.) 

Matt:  (Walking  crookedly.)  I  will  walk  up 
myself.  I  would  like  well  to  see  the  King  on  his 
throne. 

Lady:  (Curtsying.)  A  curtsy  to  the  right 
to  the  Queen — a  curtsy  to  the  left  to  the 
princesses. 

Matt:  (Curtsying.)  That  is  it,  that  is  it! 
We  will  curtsy  to  the  princesses. 

Lady:  The  King  will  smile  at  me.  I  will  take 
out  the  King's  seal.  (Touches  it.)  I  will  kneel 
and  kiss  his  hand. 

Matt:  I  will  kneel — no,  I  will  not.  (Stumbles 
and  kneels.)  There,  I  did  now  in  spite  of  my- 
self. Here,  Mary,  help  me  up  again. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Stop  where  you  are,  Kelleher, 
and  be  ashamed  of  yourself.  When  wine  goes  in, 
wit  goes  out. 

Owen:     (Helping   the   lady    up.)    All    will  go 


92  The  White  Cockade 

well  with  you  now,  Lady,    since   the  King  has 
gained  the  day. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Maybe  he  was  not  the  winner 
after  all.  It  is  often  we  heard  news  from  Ross 
that  would  n't  be  true  after. 

Matt:  Why  wouldn't  he  win?  He  has  the 
prayers  of  the  people  with  him. 

Lady:    He  has  God  with  him. 

Owen:    He  has  Sarsfield  with  him. 

Lady:  Oh!  who  will  go  to  the  King?  who 
will  go  for  news  of  the  King? 

Owen:    I  will  go. 

Lady:  Yes,  go,  go!  Here,  take  these  to  give 
to  the  King's  men.  (She  gives' him  cockades.) 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Do  not  go  until  we  are  sure 
is  the  battle  over.  The  last  of  a  feast  is  better 
than  the  first  of  a  fight. 

Owen:  I  will  go  now.  I  delayed  long  enough. 
I  wish  I  had  gone  in  time  for  the  fighting. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Well,  since  he  is  the  winner 
— a  friend  in  Court  is  better  than  a  coin  in  the 
pocket — it  might  be  for  profit. 

(Owen  begins  washing  hands  and  face  in 
a  basin.  Puts  on  coat.  Sailors  bring 
up  an  armful  of  bottles  from  cellar.) 

Matt:  (Still  on  the  floor,  seizing  a  bottle.) 
Here  's  to  the  King's  health,  I  say! 

(The  sailors  give  him  glasses;  he  opens  bottle, 
fills  them,  and  they  hand  them  round.) 


The  White  Cockade  93 

Lady:  (Touching  glass  with  her  lips,  and  throw- 
ing it  down.)  The  King  and  the  King's  right! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  The  King  and  the  Catholics 
in  fashion! 

Owen:    The  King  that  fought  the  battle! 

Sailors:    The  King  and  France! 

Matt:    The  King  and  wine  without  duty! 

All  together:    King  James  and  Ireland! 

All:    (Singing) — 

O  well-tuned  harp  of  silver  strings, 
O  strong  green  oak,  O  shining  Mars, 
Our  hearts*  desire,  fair  James  our  King, 
Our  great  Cuchulain  in  the  war! 

Curtain 


ACT  II 

SCENE  I 

Scene:  A  wood.  James  sitting  on  a  camp  stool. 
He  is  richly  dressed,  and  wears  an  Order. 
Carter  standing  beside  him.  Sarsfield  point- 
ing with  sword  to  a  map  on  the  ground. 

Sarsfield:  If  your  Majesty  will  look  at  the 
plan  I  have  marked  on  this  map,  you  will 
see  how  we  can  make  up  for  the  defeat  of  the 
Boyne.  The  news  we  have  had  of  William's 
march  makes  it  very  simple.  He  will  be  in  our 
hands  by  morning.  You  know  what  we  have  to 
do  to-night.  To  morrow  we  shall  be  dictating 
terms  from  Limerick. 

James:  Yes,  yes,  you  told  me  all  that.  I 
wonder  if  this  wood  is  quite  safe.  (Looks  round.) 

Sarsfield:  If  our  army  had  to  fall  back,  it 
fell  back  in  good  order.  We  have  guns,  stores, 
horses.  We  have  plenty  of  troops  to  strengthen 
Athlone.  We  can  keep  the  mass  of  the  enemy 
from  passing  the  Shannon. 

94 


The  White  Cockade  95 

James:  I  hope  the  bridge  we  crossed  that 
last  little  river  by  has  been  broken  so  that  no 
one  can  follow  us. 

Sarsfield:  Kilkenny  must  be  strengthened  too. 
Waterford  is  loyal.  Munster  and  Connacht  are 
safe.  Our  success  will  give  us  back  Dublin. 
In  half  an  hour  our  horses  will  be  rested. 
We  must  be  at  Clonmel  before  midnight. 

James:  But  there  is  a  troop  of  William's 
men  somewhere  about.  We  might  fall  into 
their  hands. 

Sarsfield:  They  are  in  small  divisions.  We  and 
our  few  men  will  be  more  than  a  match  for  them. 

James:  Of  course,  of  course;  but  we  must 
not  risk  our  lives. 

Carter:  Not  a  doubt  of  it!  The  King's  life 
must  not  be  put  in  danger! 

Sarsfield:  Danger!  Who  says  that?  Who  said 
it  at  the  Boyne?  Was  it  you  drove  the  King 
from  the  battle?  Bad  advisers!  Bad  advisers! 
He  who  says  "danger"  is  a  bad  adviser. 

Carter:  I  did  nothing — it  was  His  Majesty's 
own  doing. 

James:  Yes,  yes,  of  course.  I  am  more  than  a 
soldier.  I  have  the  whole  kingdom  to  think  of. 

Carter:  Not  a  doubt  of  it.  But  you  and 
I,  Sarsfield,  have  only  ourselves  to  think  of. 

Sarsfield:  You  and  I — may  be — this  dust 
(Striking  himself) — that  dust  of  yours — has 


96 


The  White  Cockade 


King's  livery  made  us  of  the  one  baking?  No,  no; 
there  is  some  leaven  in  this  dough.  (To  the  King.) 
Rouse  yourself,  sir.  Put  your  hand  to  the  work. 
James:  I  suppose  I  must  carry  out  this 
plan  of  a  surprise. 

Sarsfield:  That  is  right,  sir.  Carry  it  out 
and  the  Boyne  will  be  forgotten. 

James:        Is  that  some  noise?  (Starts.) 

Sarsfield:  It  is  but  the  trampling  of  our  own 
horses. 

James:  Just  go,  Sarsfield,  and  see  to  the 
breaking  of  that  bridge.  If  we  are  caught 
here  by  those  murderous  Dutch,  your  plans 
will  be  ended  with  a  rope  or  a  scaffold. 

Sarsfield:  I  will  send  orders  on  to  Clonmel. 
The  Boyne  will  be  forgotten! — forgotten! 

(Goes  out.) 

I    hope    Sarsfield    knows    what    he 
about. 
H'm — he  may. 

If  we  are  sure  of  winning 

Just  so. 

He  says  we  are  sure. 

He  does. 

I  .hope  there  will  be  not  much  more 


James: 
is  talking 
Carter: 
James: 
Carter: 
James: 
Carter: 
James: 
fighting. 
Carter: 
James: 


Or  any. 
That  would 


be  best;  if  they  would 


give  in  without  a  fight. 


The  White  Cockade 


97 


Carter:    Best,  indeed. 

James:    But  if  there  is  danger 

Carter:    There  is  always  danger. 

James:     Of  another  battle 

Carter:     Or  a  surprise. 

James :  I  would  prefer  to  be  elsewhere. 
It  is  all  very  well  for  those  who  have  a  taste  for 
fighting.  I  had  it  once  myself — when  I  was 
a  boy.  But  it  has  gone  from  me  now  with 
the  taste  for  green  apples. 

Carter:    Not  a  doubt  of  it. 

James:    A  king's  life  does  not  belong  to  himself. 

Carter:    He  must  not  let  it  be  taken. 

James:    He  must  not  let  it  be  risked. 

Carter:    That  is  what  I  meant. 

James:    Now  if  we  had  come  to  the  sea 

Carter:    We  would  be  handy  to  it. 

James:     If  there  were  a  French  ship 

Carter:    And  a  fair  wind. 

James:    We   might — what   is   that? 

(Owen's  voice  heard  singing    "The    White 
Cockade:1) 

Carter:  It  is  a  friend — he  is  singing  "The 
White  Cockade." 

Owen:     (Comes  in  singing) — 

The  heavy   cloud  is   on  the   Gael, 
But  comely  James  will  bring  content. 

James:    Where  are  you  going,  boy? 

VOL.  II — 7 


98  The  White  Cockade 

Owen:  I  am  going  looking  for  news  of 
King  James.  (Sits  down  and  wipes  his  face.) 
I'm  after  wringing  my  shirt  twice,  with  respects 
to  you.  I  would  not  have  walked  so  far  for  any 
one  living  but  the  King!  And  it  is  bad  news 
of  him  I  am  after  getting. 

James:  Then  the  defeat  is  known.  What 
did  you  hear? 

Owen:  I  heard  a  great  clattering  of  horses, 
and  then  I  heard  a  fife  and  drum — a  tune  they 
were  playing  like  this. 

(Whistles  "  Lillibulero.") 

James:  The  rebels  are  here!  It  is  "Lilli- 
bulero"! 

Owen:    Then   I   saw  a   troop  of  men  and  of 
horses. 

James:    Were  they  Dutch? 

Owen:  They  were  not.  They  were  as  good 
speakers  as  myself.  Men  from  the  north  they 
were,  and  they  were  giving  out  as  they  passed 
that  William  had  gained  the  day,  and  that  King 
James  was  running,  and  if  they  got  him,  they 
would  give  his  legs  rest  for  a  while. 

James:     Heavens!     What    a    terrible    threat! 

Carter:  Terrible,  indeed!  Is  there  no  place 
where  we  could  be  safe? 

Owen:  If  you  belong  to  King  James,  you 
would  be  safe  where  I  come  from,  and  that  is  the 
inn  at  the  harbour  of  Duncannon. 


The  White  Cockade  99 

James:  The  harbour!  Do  many  ships  come 
in  there? 

Owen:  There  do  not.  But  there  is  one  in 
it  presently. 

James:    An  English  ship? 

Owen:  It  is  not,  but  a  ship  from  France.  But 
if  it  is  itself,  it  is  not  long  it  will  be  in  it. 
It  will  be  sailing  at  sunrise.  There  will  be  a 
boat  coming  from  it  after  midnight,  for  the  meat 
my  mother  has  them  promised. 

James:  I  must  go  to  Duncannon!  Look 
here,  boy,  would  it  be  safe  if  I — if  the  King 
himself  were  to  go  there  to-night? 

Owen:  Now  that  he  is  down,  I  think  there  is 
not  one  in  the  place  but  would  carry  a  hurt 
dog  if  it  belonged  to  King  James. 

James:  But  tell  me — if — I  only  say  if  the  King 
should  come  and  should  be  seen  by  anyone — is 
there  any  chance  he  would  be  known? 

Owen:  Every  chance.  Sure  he  is  well  known 
by  the  songs. 

James:     By  the  songs? 

Owen:     (Singing) — 

Curled  locks  like  Angus  of  the  Sidhe, 
Friendly,  brave,  bright,  loving,  fair; 
High  hawk  that  gains  the  mastery, 
Cupid  in  peace,  a  Mars  in  war! 

James:    (To  Carter.)    It  will  be  safer  not  to 


ioo  The  White  Cockade 

go  till  after  dark.  We  must  go  quite  quietly — 
we  must  leave  our  men  and  horses  at  a  dis- 
tance. 

Carter:    That  will  be  best. 

James :  You  must  keep  the  inn  clear,  boy. 
You  must  keep  the  French  boat  till  I  come — 
till  the  King  comes.  He  will  knock  at  the  door 
before  midnight. 

Owen:  Believe  me  he  will  get  a  good  welcome! 
If  it  was  known  he  was  coming  there  would  be  a 
candle  lighted  in  every  harbour. 

James:    No,  no  candles. 

Owen:  I  may  as  well  be  going  now  to  make 
all  ready.  (Goes  out  singing)- 

Three  times  the  fairest  of  the  Scots, 
My  prince  and  my  heart-secret,  James, 
Our  treasure  and  our  only  choice — 
The  darling  Caesar  of  the  Gael! 

James:  That  was  a  good  chance.  We  can  go 
on  board  at  once,  and  slip  away  to  France.  I 
have^done  with  this  detestable  Ireland. 

(Kicks  the  ground.) 

Carter:    And  I.  (Kicks  the  ground.) 

James:    It  might  be  as  well 

Carter:    Well? 

James:    Not  to  mention  anything 

Carter:    I  won't 


The  White  Cockade  101 

James:  That  is,  nothing  more  than  the  sending 
of  despatches  to — here  he  is  coming. 

(Puts  his  finger  to  his  lips.     Carter  nods. 
Sars field  comes  in.) 

Sarsfield:  I  have  sent  orders  to  Clonmel, 
sir.  A  thousand  of  our  men  will  have  gathered 
there  to  meet  us  at  midnight. 

James:  I  have  changed  my  mind.  I  have  had 
messages.  I  knew  France  would  not  desert  me. 
There  is  a  ship  at  Duncannon.  I  have  des- 
patches to  send  to  King  Louis.  I  will  go  to 
Duncannon  to-night,  and  not  to  Clonmel. 

Sarsfield:  We  cannot  afford  that  delay,  sir. 
We  should  lose  the  chance  of  surprising  the 
Dutch  troop. 

James:  That  is  enough,  General  Sarsfield. 
You  will  obey  orders. 

Sarsfield:    Are  they,  sir,  what  is  best  for  Ireland? 

James:  Yes,  yes,  of  course.  She  is  a  very 
good  rod  to  beat  England  with. 

Sarsfield:  Whatever  use  you  may  put  her 
to,  sir,  you  are  bound  to  do  your  best  for  her 
now. 

James:    Yes,  yes,  of  course. 

Sarsfield:  The  troops  coming  to  us  must  not 
be  left  to  scatter  again.  They  believe  yet  in  the 
King.  They  are  sure  he  will  not  betray  them 
again 

James:    I  am  not  betraying  them.    I  am  get- 


102  The  White  Cockade 

ting  them  help  from  France.  You  need  say 
no  more.  When  I  think  well  of  fighting  I  will 
fight;  when  I  think  well  of  retreating  I  will 
retreat. 

(He   walks   to   end   of  stage  and  looks  at 
himself  in  a  hand-mirror.) 

Carter:  Not  a  doubt  of  it!  I  hope  General 
Sarsfield  will  loyally  follow  your  Majesty's  orders. 

Sarsfield:  Obey  them?  And  what  about  Ire- 
land— the  lasting  cry?  Am  I  giving  heed  to  the 
lasting  cry  of  luckless  Ireland?  Am  I  listening 
to  that? 

Carter:    You  have  sworn  to  obey  the  King. 

Sarsfield:  Just  so,  just  so,  we  have  sworn. — 
He  is  our  King — we  have  taken  the  oath.  Well, 
is  not  a  feather  in  a  hat  as  good  a  cry  as 
another?  A  feather  in  a  hat,  a  King  in  a  song: 

The  darling  Caesar  of  the  Gael, 
The  great  Cuchulain  of  the  War! 

(Fife  and  drum  heard  playing  "  Lillibulero.") 
James:     (Rushing  back.)     That  is  Lillibulero! 
Oh,  the  rebels  are  coming! 

Sarsfield:     It  is  that  troop  we  knew  of.      They 

are  not  many.     We  have  enough  men  to  stand 

against  them.  (Music  heard,  right.) 

James:    They  are  coming  very  close! 

Carter:    Here,  sir,  let  us  hide  in   the  wood! 

(They  run  left.) 


The  White  Cockade  103 

James:    They  are  coming  this  way! 

(They  cross  to  right.     Music  follows.) 

Carter:     Is  it  an  army  or  an  echo? 

(They  run  left  again.) 

James:  (Clinging  to  Sars field.)  It  is  all  around 
us! 

Sars  field:  (Taking  up  cloak  which  James  has 
dropped.)  I  can  offer  your  Majesty's  ears  t^e  pro- 
tection of  this  cloak.  (Holds  out  cloak  over  them, 
as  music  dies  away.) 

SCENE  II 

Scene:  Inn  kitchen,  much  as  before,  but  without 
the  barrel;  night-time,  candles  burning.  Owen 
standing  as  if  just  come  in.  Matt  and  Mrs. 
Kelleher  with  back  to  audience  listening  to  him. 
Old  Lady  sitting,  her  head  in  her  hands,  rocking 
herself. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  The  King  beaten!  Sure  they 
said  first  he  had  won.  Well,  the  bottom  comes 
out  of  every  riddle  at  the  last! 

Matt:  I  had  it  in  my  mind  there  was  some  great 
misfortune  coming  upon  us.  I  was  trying  to 
hearten  myself  through  the  whole  of  the  morning. 
I  give  you  my  word,  now,  I  am  as  sorry  as  if 
there  was  one  dead,  belonging  to  me! 

Owen:  Did  you  hear  me,  Lady,  what  I  was 
telling? 


104  The  White  Cockade 

Lady:  (Sitting  up.)  If  it  was  true,  it  was  a 
dark  story,  a  dark  sorrowful  story! 

(She  gets  up  and  looks  out  of  door  into  the 

darkness.) 

Owen:    King  James  is  beaten  surely. 
Lady:    The  King  beaten,  and  the  moon  in  the 
skies  not  darkened! 

Owen:    Beaten  and  wandering. 
Lady:    The    King    beaten,   and    the  fish   not 
dead  in  the  rivers! 

Owen:     Beaten  and    wandering    and    hunted. 
(Matt  Kelleher  gives  a  groan   at   the  end 

of  each  sentence.) 

Lady:  The  King  beaten,  and  the  leaves  on 
the  trees  not  withered !  (She  turns  from  the  door.) 
The  sun  is  a  liar  that  rose  in  the  east  for  victory. 
What  was  the  sun  doing  that  day?  Where  was 
God?  Where  was  Sarsfield? 

(She   walks   up    and  down,   wringing  her 

hands.) 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  It  is  what  I  was  often  saying, 
there  is  nought  in  this  world  but  a  mist. 

Lady:  Where  were  the  people  that  were  wise 
and  learned?  Where  were  the  troop  readying 
their  spears?  Where  are  they  till  they  smooth 
out  this  knot  for  me?  (Takes  Owen  by  the 
shoulders.)  Why  did  not  the  hills  fall  upon  the 
traitors?  Why  did  not  the  rivers  rise  against 
them? 


The  White  Cockade  105 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Sit  down  now,  Lady,  for  a  while. 
It  's  no  wonder  you  to  be  fretting,  and  your 
lands  and  your  means  gone  like  froth  on  the 
stream.  Sure  the  law  of  borrowing,  is  the  loan  to 
be  broken. 

Lady:  I  will  not  sit  under  a  roof  and  my  King 
under  clouds.  It  is  not  the  keening  of  one 
plain  I  hear,  but  of  every  plain.  The  sea  and 
the  waves  crying  through  the  harbour!  The  peo- 
ple without  a  lord  but  the  God  of  glory!  Where 
is  he?  Where  is  my  royal  Stuart?  I  will  go 
out  crying  after  the  King!  (She  goes  out.) 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  But  is  it  surely  true,  Owen, 
that  the  King  is  coming  to  this  house? 

Owen:     Sure  and  certain  sure. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  If  we  had  but  known,  to  have 
killed  a  sheep  or  a  kid  itself!  I  declare  I  would 
think  more  of  him  now  than  when  he  had  all 
at  his  command. 

Owen:  It  is  likely,  indeed,  he  found  no  good 
table  in  the  wood. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  The  man  without  dinner  is  two 
to  supper.  Well,  the  cakes  are  baked,  and  eggs 
we  have  in  plenty,  and  pork  if  we  had  but  the 
time  to  boil  it,  and  a  bit  of  corned  beef.  In- 
deed if  I  had  twenty  times  as  much,  I  would  n't 
begrudge  it  to  the  King. 

Matt :  (Looking  at  bottles. )  There  is  good  wine  for 
him  anyway.  The  Frenchmen  knew  the  best  corner. 


106  The  White  Cockade 

Mrs.  Kelleher:     Mind  yourself,  now. 
Matt:     (Indignantly.)      Do  you  think  I  would 
take  so  much  as  one  drop  from  what  I  have  put 
on  one  side  for  the  rightful  King? 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Give  me  a  hand  to  get  down  the 
best  delft.  It 's  well  I  had  the  barrels  packed  out 
of  the  way.  It 's  getting  on  for  midnight.  He 
might  be  here  any  time. 

(Trampling  of  horses   heard,  and  fife  and 

drum  playing  "  Lillibulero.") 
Matt:    What  is  that?    Is  it  the  King  that  is 
coming? 

Owen:  It  is  not;  but  King  William's  men  that 
are  looking  for  the  King. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Keep  them  out  of  this!  Foxes 
in  the  hencoop ! 

^Owen:  It  is  here  they  are  coming,  sure  enough. 
(Music  comes  nearer.  Mrs.  Kelleher  hur- 
riedly puts  food  in  cupboard  and  flings 
a  sack  over  bottles.  Door  is  opened;  two 
men  of  William's  army  come  in.  They 
have  fife  and  drum.) 

First  Williamite:    That  is  good !    I  smell  supper. 
Second  Williamite:    We  are   lucky  to   find   an 
inn  so  handy. 

First  Williamite:  I  knew  where  the  inn  was. 
I  told  the  Newry  troop  to  come  meet  us  here. 
(Turns  to  door.)  Here,  you  lads,  go  and  spread 
yourselves  here  and  there  through  the  town: 


The  White  Cockade  107 

don't  go  far;  I  will  fire  two  shots  when  you  are 
wanted.  ( Voices  outside.)  "  All  right."  "  We  '11 
do  that,  sir." 

Second  Williamite:  I  don't  think  King  James 
is  in  these  parts  at  all. 

First  Williamite:  There  is  a  French  ship  in 
the  harbour.  He  might  be  making  for  her. 

Second  Williamite:  We  will  stop  here  anyway. 
We  have  a  good  view  of  the  pier  in  the  moonlight. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  I  am  loath  to  disoblige  you, 
gentlemen,  but  you  can't  stop  here  to-night. 

First  Williamite:  Why  do  you  say  that?  Inns 
were  made  to  stop  in. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  This  is  not  an  inn  now — not 
what  you  would  rightly  call  an  inn  —  we  gave 
up  business  of  late — we  were  stumbling  under 
the  weight  of  it,  like  two  mice  under  a  stack. 

First  Williamite:  I  wouldn't  think  so  small 
a  place  would  be  so  great  a  burden. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  A  hen  itself  is  heavy  if  you 
carry  it  far.  It 's  best  to  give  up  in  time.  A 
good  run  is  better  than  a  bad  battle.  We  got 
no  comfort  for  ourselves — who  is  nearest  the 
church  is  not  nearest  the  altar. 

First  Williamite:  Quiet  this  woman,  some  of 
you.  Where  is  the  man  of  the  house?  The  hen 
does  n't  crow  when  there  is  a  cock  in  the  yard — 
you  see,  ma'am,  I  have  proverbs  myself. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:     (To    Matt.)     We   must   keep 


io8  The  White  Cockade 

them  out  some  way.  (To  Williamites.)  There 
are  no  beds  for  you  to  get.  The  beds  are  damp. 
Are  n't  they,  Matt  ? 

Matt:     Damp,  indeed — rotten  with  damp. 

Owen:  Damp  and  soaked  with  the  drip  from 
the  roof. 

First  Williamite:  Beds!  Are  we  asking  for 
beds?  It  is  not  often  we  feel  a  blanket  over  us, 
thanks  to  King  James.  These  chairs  will  do  us 
well. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  You  don't  know  what  lay  on 
those  chairs  last  night! 

First  Williamite:     What  was  that? 

Mrs.  Kelleher:    A  corpse — was  n't  it,  Matt? 

Matt:     It  was — a  dead  corpse. 

Owen:     Cold  and  dead. 

First  Williamite:  (Contemptuously.)  Corpses! 
I  was  own  brother  to  a  corpse  in  the  last  scrim- 
mage. A  knock  I  got  on  the  head.  Sit  down. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  It  is  likely  you  don't  know 
what  sickness  did  this  one  die  of.  Of  a  small- 
pox— did  n't  it,  Matt  ? 

Matt:    It    did.     Of    a    pitted    small-pox. 

Owen:    And  it  left  lying  there  without  a  coffin. 

First  Williamite:  It  would  be  worse  news  if 
it  had  got  a  wake  that  had  left  the  house  bare. 

.Mrs.  Kelleher:  Bare!  This  is  the  house 
that  is  bare !  I  have  a  bad  husband,  have  n't  I, 
Matt? 


The  White  Cockade  109 

Matt:    What 's  that  you  are  saying? 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  A  while  drunk,  a  while  in 
fury,  tearing  the  strings  and  going  mad!  (Giv- 
ing kirn  a  nudge.}  And  a  son  that  is  a  gam- 
bler. (Owen  starts,  but  she  nudges  him.)  Two 
hands  scattering,  and  but  one  saving.  They 
spent  all  we  had.  There  is  nothing  for  you  to 
find  in  the  house,  I  tell  you.  It's  hard  to 
start  a  hare  out  of  an  empty  bush! 

Second  Williamite:  (Taking  sack  off  bottles.) 
Here  is  something  that  looks  better  than  holy 
water.  (Takes  up  bottle  and  uncorks  it.) 

First  Williamite:  (Opening  cupboard.)  I  see 
the  scut  of  a  hare  in  this  bush! 

(Takes  out  meat.) 

Second  Williamite:  (Drinking.)  Faith,  you 
have  a  strong  cellar.  (Hands  on  bottle  and 
opens  another.)  Here,  inn-keeper,  have  a  glass  of 
your  own  still — drink  now  to  the  King. 

Matt:  I  will  not.  I  will  not  touch  one  drop 
from  those  bottles  that  are  for 

Second  Williamite  Drink,  man;  drink  till 
you  are  in  better  humour. 

Matt:  (Taking  glass.)  Well,  if  I  do,  I  call 
all  to  witness  that  I  was  forced  to  it!  Four 
against  one,  and  forced!  (Drinks  and  holds  glass 
out  again.)  And  anyway,  if  I  do  (Drinks),  it's 
not  to  your  master  I  am  drinking,  but  to  King 
James ! 


no  The  White  Cockade 

First  Williamite:  Little  I  care!  I'd  drink 
to  any  of  them  myself,  if  I  had  no  other  way  to 
get  it.  Dutch  or  Scotch,  there 's  no  great 
difference.  If  we  had  a  King  of  our  own,  that 
would  be  another  story. 

Second  Williamite:  You  have  taken  your 
job  under  William. 

First  Williamite:  And  am  n't  I  doing  the  job, 
drinking  the  wine  of  a  Jacobite?  To  fight 
for  William  by  day,  and  to  drink  King  James's 
wine  by  night,  isn't  that  doing  double  service? 

Owen:  (To  Mrs.  Kelleher.)  I  will  go  and  turn 
back  those  that  were  coming. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Do,  and  God  be  with  you. 

(He  goes  to  door.) 

First  Williamite:  Stop  here,  youngster,  and 
drink  to  the  King. 

Owen:     I  will  not. 

First  Williamite:  Well,  stop  and  drink  against 
the  King. 

Owen:    I  must  go.     (Puts  hand  on  latch.) 

First  Williamite:  (Holding  him.)  You  have 
nothing  to  do  that  is  so  easy  as  this. 

Owen:  I  have  colts  that  are  astray  to  put 
back  on  the  right  road. 

First  Williamite:  A  fine  lad  like  you  to  be  run- 
ning after  colts,  and  King  William  wanting  sol- 
diers !  Come,  join  our  troop,  and  we  '11  make  a 
corporal  of  you. 


The  White  Cockade  JIT 

Owen:  Leave  me  alone.  I  have  my  own 
business  to  mind. 

Second  Williamite:  The  drill  would  take  that 
stoop  out  of  your  shoulders. 

First  Williamite:  It  would,  and  straighten 
his  back.  Wait  till  I  drill  you!  I  '11  give  you 
your  first  lesson.  I  '11  have  you  as  straight  as 
a  thistle  before  morning.  See  here  now:  left, 
right;  left,  right;  right  about  face.  (He  holds 
him  while  the  other  swings  him  round.) 

Second  Williamite:  Give  him  the  balance- 
step  first.  Now,  youngster,  balance  step  with- 
out gaining  ground.  (Crooks  up  Owen's  leg.) 
See  now,  this  way;  stand  straight  or  you 
will  fall  over  like  a  sack  of  potatoes.  I 
should  get  promotion  now;  I  am  training 
recruits  for  King  William. 

Matt:  (Who  is  by  the  window.)  Let  him  go, 
let  him  go.  There  are  some  persons  coming.  I 
hear  them.  Who  now  would  be  coming  here 
so  late  as  midnight? 

Second  Williamite:    Are  these  our  men  ? 

First  Williamite:  They  are  not.  Our  men 
will  be  riding. 

Owen:     (Passionately.)     Let  me  go. 

Second  Williamite:  You  are  not  through  your 
drill  yet.  Here  now — (A  knocking  at  the  door.) 

Matt:  Customers,  maybe.  Wait  till  I  open 
the-  door. 


ii2  The  White  Cockade 

Owen:  (To  Mrs.  Kelleher.)  Don't  let  him 
open  it! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  (Seizing  him.)  Leave  opening 
the  door,  Matt  Kelleher! 

Matt:  Let  me  alone!  I  will  open  it.  It  's 
my  business  to  open  the  door. 

(He  breaks  from  her.) 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Stop,  I  tell  you!  What  are 
you  doing?  (Whispers.)  Don't  you  know  that 
it  might  be  King  James. 

Matt:  King  James!  The  King  outside  in  the 
night  and  we  not  opening  the  door!  Leave  the 
doorway  clear!  A  welcome,  a  great  welcome  to 
King  James! 

(Williamites  start  up  and  seize  muskets. 
KelleJier  flings  the  door  open.  James 
comes  in,  followed  by  Carter  and 
Sars field.) 

Owen:     (Shouting.)    Are  you  come,  strangers, 
to  join  King  William's  men? 
.    First  Williamite:    They  are  wearing  the  white 
cockade! 

Second  Williamite:  They  belong  to  James,  sure 
enough. 

Matt:  (Seizing  James's  hand.)  My  thousand 
welcomes  to  you!  And  tell  me,  now,  which  of 
you  is  King  James? 

James:     (Going  back  a  step.)     This  is  a  trap! 

Carter:    Not  a  doubt  of  it! 


The  White  Cockade  113 

First  Williamite:  Fire,  fire  quick!  Bring  back 
our  troop! 

(They  raise  their  muskets.  Sars field  rushes 
past  James,  seizes  the  muskets  which 
they  are  raising  so  that  they  are  pointed 
at  his  own  body.) 

Sars  field:  Fire!  Yes,  here  I  am!  Call  back 
your  comrades  to  bury  the  King! 

Matt:  Shame!  Shame!  Would  you  kill  the  King? 
First  Williamite:     We  have  orders  to  take  him, 
alive  or  dead. 

Sars  field:  Back,  back,  put  down  your  muskets! 
Damn  you !  Are  these  Dutch  manners  ? 

First  Williamite:  You  are  our  prisoner.  We 
must  call  our  troop. 

Sars  field:  (Pushing  them  back  angrily.)  Dutch 
manners!  I  swear  I  will  not  go  to  prison  on 
an  empty  stomach!  Supper,  host,  supper!  Is  a 
man  to  be  sent  empty  to  his  death,  even  if 
he  be  a  King? 

First  Williamite:  We  have  orders.  We  are 
King  William's  men. 

Sarsfield:  Whoever  you  are,  I  will  sup  here 
to-night.  Hurry,  host,  hurry.  What  have  you 
there?  Here  is  a  follower  of  mine  who  is  always 
hungry.  (Pointing  at  Carter.)  What  have  you 
here?  Beef — good — and  bread. 

(Williamites  go  and  stand  at  door  with 
muskets  ready.) 

VOL.  XI— 8 


The  White  Cockade 


Matt:  (Bewildered.)  I  have,  indeed — that  is, 
I  had.  I  had  all  ready.  These  traitors  came — 
it  failed  me  to  get  them  out. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Leave  talking.  You  have 
done  enough  of  harm  for  this  night.  With  your 
wine-muddled  wits  you  have  brought  your  King 
to  his  death.  (She  puts  plates  on  table.) 

Sars field:  (To  Carter.)  Give  me  a  chair. 
Here  (To  James)  are  my  gloves.  (He  sits  down.) 
You  may  sit  there.  (They  sit  down,  James 
keeping  his  face  in  shadow,  and  muffled  in  cloak. 
They  begin  eating.  To  Carter.)  You,  I  know,  are 
ready  for  your  supper. 

Carter:     Not  a  doubt  of  it !    (He  eats  greedily.) 

Matt:  (Falling  on  his  knees.)  O  forgive  me, 
forgive!  To  betray  my  King!  Oh!  oh!  oh! 
It  's  the  drink  that  did  it. 

Sarsfield:     That  will  do.     I  forgive,  I  forgive. 

Matt:  Take  my  life!  O  take  my  life!  I 
to  have  brought  destruction  on  my  King! 

Sarsfield:  Get  up,  old  fool.  Here,  ma'am, 
those  bottles. 

Matt:  (Getting  up.)  I  wish  I  had  died  of 
thirst  before  I  had  touched  a  drop,  so  I  do. 
The  curse  of  drowning  be  upon  drink,  I  say ! 

Sarsfield:  (To  First  Williamite.)  I  am  in 
better  humour  now.  War  and  hunger  make  rough 
manners.  Were  you  in  the  battle?  If  so,  you 
are  brave  men. 


The  White  Cockade  115 

First  Williamite:  We  were  not  in  that  battle. 
We  were  at  the  Lagan. 

Sarsfield:  There  were  good  fighters  there 
too.  I  am  sorry  they  were  not  on  our  side. 
I  am  sorry  all  the  men  of  Ireland  are  not  on  the 
one  side. 

First  Williamite:  It  is  best  to  be  on  the  win- 
ning side. 

Sarsfield:  The  winning  side — which  is  it? 
We  think  we  know,  but  heaven  and  hell  know 
better.  Ups  and  downs  as  with  this  knife  (Balances 
it  on  his  finger.)  Ups  and  downs.  Winning  and 
losing  are  in  the  course  of  nature,  and  there  's  no 
use  in  crying. 

First  Williamite:    Some  one  must  be  the  winner. 

Sarsfield:  Ups  and  downs,  ups  and  downs; 
and  we  know  nothing  till  all  is  over.  He  is 
surely  the  winner  who  gets  a  great  tombstone, 
a  figured  monument,  cherubs  blowing  trumpets, 
angels'  tears  in  marble — or  maybe  he  is  the 
winner  who  has  none  of  these,  who  but  writes 
his  name  in  the  book  of  the  people.  I  would 
like  my  name  set  in  clean  letters  in  the  book 
of  the  people. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  (To  James.)  Take  another  bit 
of  the  beef,  sir;  you  are  using  nothing  at  all.  You 
might  have  hungry  days  yet.  Make  hay  while 
the  sun  shines.  It  isn't  every  day  that  Paddy 
kills  a  deer! 


ii6  The  White  Cockade 

James:  (In  a  muffled  voice.)  I  have  eaten  enough. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  It  is  well  you  came  before 
these  Northerners  had  all  swept.  It 's  a  rogue 
of  a  cat  would  find  anything  after  them. 

James:  (Impatiently.)    I  have  had  quite  enough. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Look  now,  don't  be  down 
heartened.  Sure  you  must  be  sorry  for  the  King 
being  in  danger;  but  things  might  change. 
It  is  they  themselves  might  be  dancing  the  back 
step  yet.  There  's  more  music  than  the  pipes. 
The  darkest  hour  is  before  the  dawn.  Every 
spring  morning  has  a  black  head.  It 's  a  good 
horse  that  never  stumbles.  The  help  of  God  is 
nearer  than  the  door. 

James:    Let  me  be.     That  is  enough. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  (Turning  away.)  I  knew  he 
had  n't  enough  ate.  It 's  the  hungry  man  does 
be  fierce. 

Sars field:  (To  First  Williamite.)  I  am  sorry 
not  to  be  able  to  ask  you,  fellow-soldier,  to 
sit  down  with  us.  But  I  know  you  would 
sooner  let  the  bones  show  through  your  coat 
than  lower  that  musket  that  is  pointing  at 
me.  • 

First  Williamite:  I  hope  you  won't  take  it 
unkindly,  your  Majesty.  I  am  but  obeying 
orders. 

Sarsfield:  You  are  right;  you  are  very  right 
in  not  sitting  down.  Suppose  now  you  were 


The  White  Cockade  117 

sitting  here,  and  the  door  unguarded,  and  the 
King  should  make  his  escape 

First  Williamite:  Your  Majesty  would  not  get 
very  far — we  have  other  men. 

Sars field:  Who  knows?  There  are  ups  and 
downs.  A  King  is  not  as  a  common  man — the 
moon  has  risen — there  are  horses  not  far  off — 
he  might  gallop  through  the  night. 

First  Williamite:    He  would  be  overtaken. 

Sarsfield:  He  might  gallop — and  gallop — 
and  a  few  friends  would  know  the  sound  and 
would  join  him  here  and  there.  He  might  go 
on  very  fast,  away  from  the  harbour,  past 
the  wood,  his  men  gathering  to  him  as  he 
passed — to  Clonmel 

Second  Williamite:  Clonmel  is  full  of  King 
James's  men,  sure  enough. 

Sarsfield:  And  then,  with  all  that  gather  to 
him  there,  he  would  go  quietly,  very  quietly,  very 
quickly  to  the  Gap  of  the  Oaks 

Second  Williamite:  Listen.  That  is  where  the 
convoy  stops  to-night. 

Sarsfield:  A  little  camp-— four  hundred  horses 
well  saddled,  two  hundred  waggons  with  powder 
enough  to  blow  up  the  Rock  of  Cashel — and 
in  the  middle  of  all,  the  yolk  of  the  egg — the 
kernel  of  the  nut — the  pip  of  the  orange. 

Second  Williamite:  He  knows  that,  too.  He 
knows  King  William  is  making  that  secret  march. 


ii 8  The  White  Cockade 

Sars field:  A  shout — the  King!  Sarsfield — 
Ireland! — before  there  is  time  to  pull  a  trigger, 
we  have  carried  off  the  prize — we  have  him  to 
treat  with  inside  the  walls  of  Limerick.  We 
send  the  Dutchman  back  to  his  country.  Will 
you  go  with  him  to  the  mud-banks,  comrades, 
or  will  you  stop  in  Ireland  with  your  own  King? 

First  Williamite:  The  King  will  win  yet.  I 
would  never  believe  that  he  gave  the  word  to 
run  from  the  Boyne. 

Sarsfield:    Now,  if  I  were  the  King 

Matt:  Sure  you  are  King  yet,  for  all  I  did 
to  destroy  you,  God  forgive  me! 

Sarsfield:  That  is  true — yes,  yes.  I  am  a 
King  to-night,  even  though  I  may  not  be  one 
to-morrow. 

Owen:  (Who  has  been  listening  eagerly.)-  It 
must  be  a  wonderful  thing  to  be  a  King! 

Sarsfield:  Wonderful,  indeed — if  he  have  the 
heart  of  a  King — to  be  the  son  and  grandson 
and  great-grandson  of  Kings,  the  chosen  and 
anointed  of  God.  To  have  that  royal  blood 
coming  from  far  off,  from  some  source  so  high 
that,  like  the  water  of  his  palace  fountain, 
it  keeps  breaking,  ever  breaking  away  from 
the  common  earth,  starting  up  as  if  to  reach 
the  skies.  How  else  would  those  who  are  not 
noble  know  when  they  meet  it  what  is  royal 
blood? 


The  White  Cockade  119 

First  Williamite:  I  would  know  in  any  place 
that  this  King  has  royal  blood. 

Second  Williamite:  It  is  easy  to  see  among 
these  three  which  of  them  is  King. 

Sars field:  (Looking  at  James.)  A  wonderful 
thing!  If  he  have  the  high  power  of  a  King, 
or  if  he  take  the  counsel  that  should  be  taken  by 
a  King.  To  be  a  King  is  to  be  a  lover  —  a 
good  lover  of  a  beautiful  sweetheart. 

First  Williamite:  I  suppose  he  means  the 
country,  saying  that. 

Second  Williamite:  I  am  sure  he  must  have  a 
heart  for  Ireland. 

Sarsfield:  He  goes  out  so  joyous,  so  high  of 
heart,  because  it  is  never  possible  for  him  to 
do  any  deed  for  himself  alone,  but  for  her  as  well 
that  is  his  dear  lady.  She  is  in  his  hands;  he 
keeps  them  clean  for  her;  it  is  for  her  he  holds 
his  head  high;  it  is  for  her  he  shows  courtesy  to 
all,  because  he  would  not  have  rude  voices  raised 
about  her. 

Second  Williamite:  The  Dutchman  would  not 
have  those  thoughts  for  Ireland. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  It 's  not  from  the  wind  he  got  it. 
Mouth  of  ivy  and  heart  of  holly.  That  is  what 
you  would  look  for  in  a  King. 

Sarsfield:  If  she  is  in  trouble  or  under  sorrow, 
this  sweetheart  who  trusts  him,  that  trouble,  God 
forgive  him,  brings  him  a  sort  of  joy!  To  go  out, 


120  The  White  Cockade 

to  call  his  men,  to  give  out  shouts  because  the 
time  has  come  to  show  what  her  strong  lover  can 
do  for  her — to  go  hungry  that  she  may  be  fed; 
to  go  tired  that  her  dear  feet  may  tread  safely; 
to  die,  it  may  be,  at  the  last  for  her  with  such 
glory  that  the  name  he  leaves  with  her  is  better 
than  any  living  love,  because  he  has  been  faithful, 
faithful,  faithful! 

First  Williamite:  (Putting  down  musket.)  I 
give  up  the  Dutchman's  pay.  This  man  is  the 
best. 

Second  Williamite:  He  is  the  best.  It  is  as 
good  to  join  him. 

Owen:  I  will  follow  him  by  every  hard  road 
and  every  rough  road  through  the  whole  world. 

Matt:  I  will  never  drink  another  drop  till 
he  has  come  to  his  rights!  I  would  sooner 
shrivel  up  like  a  bunch  of  seaweed! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  It  is  what  I  was  often  saying, 
the  desire  of  every  heart  is  the  rightful  King. 

First  Williamite:  We  will  follow  you!  We 
will  send  our  comrades  away  when  they  come, 
or  we  will  turn  them  to  you! 

Second  Williamite:  We  will  fight  for  you  five 
times  better  than  ever  we  fought  for  the 
Dutchman.  We  will  not  let  so  much  as  a  scratch 
on  one  belonging  to  you — even  that  lean- jawed 
little  priest  at  the  end  of  the  table. 

(Points  at  James.) 


The  White  Cockade  121 

Sars field:  (Rising.}  That  is  right.  I  knew 
you  were  good  Irishmen.  Now,  we  must  set 
out  for  Clonmel. 

James:  No,  no;  we  cannot  go.  We  must 
wait  for  the  men  from  the  French  ship. 

Sarsfield:  Write  your  orders  to  them.  Tell 
them  to  come  round,  and  bring  us  help  at 
Limerick. 

James:     It  would  be  best  to  see  them. 

Sarsfield:  No  time  to  lose!  This  good  woman 
will  give  the  letter  safely. 

(Carter  reluctantly  gets  out  pen  and  paper. 
James  begins  to  write.  The  door  opens 
and  the  old  Lady  appears.) 

Owen:    It  is  the  poor  Lady. 

Matt:  (To  Sarsfield.)  The  poor  Lady  Dereen, 
your  Majesty,  that  lost  all  for  the  Stuarts. 

Owen:  Come  in,  Lady,  come;  the  King  himself 
is  here,  King  James. 

Lady:  The  King!  And  safe!  Then  God  has 
heard  our  prayers! 

Owen:  Come  now,  Lady;  tell  your  story  to 
the  King.  (Leads  her  to  Sarsfield.) 

Lady:  I  lost  all  for  Charles.  I  will  get 
all  back  from  James.  Charles  was  great;  James 
will  be  greater!  See  here  I  have  the  King's  own 
seal. 

Sarsfield:  That  is  the  seal  indeed.  The  King 
will  honour  it  when  he  comes  to  his  own. 


122  The  White  Cockade 

Lady:  No  more  beggary;  no  more  wandering. 
My  white  halls  again;  my  kinsmen  and  my 
friends! 

Sarsfield:  (To  James.)  Have  we  any  token 
to  give  this  poor  distracted  lady? 

James:  Give  her  a  promise.  We  have  nothing 
else  to  part  with. 

Sarsfield:  (Taking  off  his  ring.)  Here,  Lady; 
here  is  a  ring.  Take  this  in  pledge  that  the 
King  will  pay  you  what  he  owes. 

Lady:     (Taking  it.)    Is  it  the  sunrise?   See  how 

it  shines!     I  knew  the  lucky  sun  would  rise  at 

last.     I  watched  in  the  east  for  it  every  morning. 

(She  childishly  plays  with  the  ring.) 

Matt:  Would  n't  you  thank  the  King  now, 
Lady,  for  what  he  is  after  giving  you? 

Lady:  I  had  forgotten.  I  forgot  I  was  in  the 
Court!  I  was  dreaming,  dreaming  of  hard,  long 
roads  and  little  houses — little  dark  houses.  I  for- 
got I  was  at  Whitehall.  I  have  not  been  to 
Whitehall  for  a  long  time  to  kiss  the  King's  hand. 
(She  gives  her  stick  to  Owen,  and  stands  very  tall 
and  straight.)  I  know  the  Court  well.  I  re- 
member well  what  to  do.  A  curtsy  to  the 
right  to  the  Queen  (curtsies) ;  a  curtsy  to  the  left 
to  the  princesses  (curtsies.)  Now  I  kneel  to  kiss 
the  King's  hand.  (She  sweeps  her  dress  back  as  if 
it  were  a  train  and  kneels.  Sarsfield  gives  her  his 
hand;  she  puts  her  lips  to  it.  She  gets  up  uncertain 


The  White  Cockade  123 

and  tottering,  and  cries  out) — You  have  befooled 
me!  That  is  not  the  King's  hand;  that  is  no 
Stuart  hand;  that  is  a  lucky  hand — a  strong,  lucky 
hand! 

Sarsfield:  You  have  forgotten,  Lady.  It  was 
a  long  time  ago. 

Lady:  That  is  no  Stuart  voice!  (Peers  at 
him.)  That  is  no  Stuart  face !  Who  was  it  said 
the  King  is  here?  (She  looks  into  Carter1  s  face.) 
That  is  no  King's  face.  (Takes  his  hand.)  That 
is  no  royal  hand.  (Going  to  James.)  Let  me 
look  at  your  face.  (He  turns  away.)  Let  me 
look  at  your  hand. 

James:  Do  not  touch  me!  Am  I  to  be  pest- 
ered by  every  beggar  that  comes  in? 

Lady:     (In  a  shriek.)     That  is  the  voice!    That 

is  the  voice!    (Seizes  his  hand.)     That  is  the  hand! 

I  know  it — the  smooth,  white,  unlucky  Stuart  hand ! 

(James  starts  up  angrily.     Williamites  have 

gone  to  listen  at  the  door.     "Lillibulero" 

is  heard  sung  outside) — 

Dey  all  in  France  have  taken  a  swear, 

Lillibulero  bullen  a  la! 
Dat  dey  will  have  no  Protestant  heir: 

Lillibulero  bullen  a  la! 

Lero,  lero,  lero,  lillibulero  bullen  a  la! 

Though  by  my  shoul  de  English  do  prate, 
Lillibulero  bullen  a  la! 


124  The  White  Cockade 

De  laws  on  dere  side,  and  Christ  knows  what : 
Lillibulero  bullen  a  la! 
Lero,  lero,  lero,  lillibulero  bullen  a  la! 

First  Williamite:    It  is  the  Newry  troop! 

Owen:  (Bolting  door  and  putting  his  back  to  it.) 
They  must  not  see  the  King! 

Second  Williamite:  It  is  too  late  to  escape. 
We  will  fight  for  you. 

Matt:  (Going  to  door  and  putting  his  back  to  it.) 
Believe  me  I  won't  let  them  in  this  time. 

Sarsfield:  (Drawing  sword  and  going  before 
James.)  We  will  cut  our  way  through  them. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  (Pushing  back  dresser  and  open- 
ing door.)  It 's  a  poor  mouse  that  would  n't  have 
two  doors  to  its  hole!  (She  pushes  James  and 
Carter  in.  Sarsfield  stands  at  it.)  Go  in  now. 
When  all  is  quiet,  you  can  get  through  to  the 
pier. 

Voice  of  Williamite  Captain  outside:  (With  a 
bang  at  door.)  Open!  I  say! 

Matt:  (Rattling  at  door  while  he  keeps  it  fast.) 
Sure,  I  'm  doing  my  best  to  open  it — if  I  could 
but  meet  with  the  latch. 

Voice:     Open,  open! 

Matt:  I  have  an  unsteady  hand.  I  am  after 
taking  a  little  drop  of  a  cordial— 

(Another  bang  at  door.) 

Owen:     I  '11  quench  the  light! 


The  White  Cockade  125 

(Blows  out  candles.  Sarsfield  has  followed 
James.  Mrs.  Kelleher  is  pushing 
dresser  back  to  its  place.  The  door  is 
burst  open.) 

Captain:     Who  is  here? 

Matt:  Not  a  one  in  the  world,  Captain,  but 
myself  and  herself,  and  the  son  I  have,  and  a 
few  men  of  King  William's  army. 

First  Williamite:  We  are  here,  sir,  according  to 
orders. 

Captain:  Strike  a  light!  (Williamite  strikes 
it  and  lights  candle.)  What  is  going  on  here? 

First  Williamite:    We  are  watching  the  pier,  sir. 

Captain:     Why  are  the  lights  out? 

Matt:  It  was  I  myself,  sir — I  will  confess  all. 
It  was  not  purposely  I  did  it.  I  have  an  un- 
steady hand;  it  was  to  snuff  them  I  was  striving. 

Captain:     Have  you  any  news  of  King  James? 

First  Williamite:     Great  news! 

Captain:     What  is  that? 

First  Williamite:  He  was  seen  to  the  east — up 
in  the  wood. 

Captain:    We  must  follow  him  at  once. 

First  Williamite:  It  is  said  he  is  going  north — 
on  the  road  to — Wexford! 

Curtain 


ACT  III 

Scene:     The  pier  at  Duncannon  the  same  night. 
James  and  Carter  talking  together. 

James:  Upon  my  word,  I  am  as  glad  to  es- 
cape from  that  dark  cellar  as  I  was  to  get  into  it 
an  hour  ago. 

Carter:  I  wonder  how  long  Sarsfield  will  be 
away  gathering  his  men. 

James:  It  should  take  him  a  little  time;  but 
one  never  knows  with  him  when  he  may  appear. 
He  makes  me  start  up.  He  has  no  feeling  for 
repose,  for  things  at  their  proper  time,  for  the 
delicate,  leisurely  life.  He  frets  and  goads  me. 
He  harries  and  hustles.  I  hear  him  now!  (Starts.) 

Carter:     It  is  only  the  French  sailors  taking 

away  another  barrel  of  their  meat  from  the  cellar. 

(French   sailors  enter  from  left,  singing  as 

before.    They  roll  a  barrel  away  to  right.) 

James:  The  long  and  the  short  of  it  is,  it 
will  not  be  my  fault  if  I  spend  another  night 
in  this  abominable  island. 

Carter:    That  is  good  news  indeed. 
126 


The  White  Cockade  127 

James:    The  only  difficulty  is  how  to  get  away. 

Carter:  Why,  your  Majesty  has  but  to  get 
into  the  ship. 

James:  Ah,  if  I  could  once  get  into  it!  But 
the  question  is  how  am  I  to  escape  —  from 
Sarsfield?  Of  course  he  is  under  my  orders.  I 
made  him  obey  orders  when  we  left  the  Boyne. 
But  since  then  there  is  something  about  him — 
some  danger  in  his  eye,  or  in  the  toss  of  his  head. 
Of  course,  I  am  in  no  way  afraid  of  him. 

Carter:     Of  course  not,  indeed. 

James:  But  for  all  that,  when  he  begins  draw- 
ing maps  with  a  flourish  of  his  sword  (Mimics 
Sarsfield),  or  talking  as  if  he  were  giving  out  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  there  is  something — a  something 
— that  takes  away  my  strength,  that  leaves  me 
bustled,  marrowless,  uncertain. 

Carter:     Not  a  doubt  of  it. 

James:  I  am  resolved  I  will  strike  a  blow  for 
myself.  I  will  take  my  own  way.  I  will  be  King 
again.  I  will  be  my  own  master!  I  am  deter- 
mined that  here,  this  moment,  before  he  has  time 
to  come  back,  before  I  cool,  before  my  blood 
goes  down,  I  will  make  these  sailors  take  me 
into  their  boat  and  row  me  out  to  the  ship. 

Carter:     Well  said,  indeed. 

James:  When  Sarsfield  comes  back  to  this  pier, 
if  he  wants  to  preach  to  me  again,  he  will  have  to 
swim  for  it! 


128  The  White  Cockade 

Carter:     Ha,  ha,  very  good ! 

(Enter  sailors  from  right.) 

James:  (To  sailors.)  Here,  my  men.  I  must 
go  to  the  ship  at  once.  You  must  take  me  in 
your  boat. 

First  sailor:  Boat  not  ready  yet,  sir.  More 
meat,  more  pork,  more  sau-sa-ges. 

James:  I  must  go  at  once.  Here,  I  will  give 
you  money  if  you  will  take  me  at  once. 

Sailor:     Give  it  now,  sir,  and  I  will  take  you 
(James  gives  it) — after  one  more  barrel. 
James:    At  once! 

Sailor:  At  once,  sir.  Only  one  more  barrel.  I 
will  not  be  two,  three  minutes.  You  go,  sir, 
wait  in  the  boat.  We  will  follow  you  very  quick. 

(They  go  left) 

James:  Come  to  the  boat  at  once,  Carter.  We 
shall  be  safe  there.  Oh,  once  at  sea  I  shall  be 
King  again! 

Carter:     Not  a  doubt  of  it! 

James:     Come,  come,  no  time  to  lose! 

(They  turn  right.  Music  is  heard  from  right, 
"  Lillibulero"  suddenly  turning  into 
"  White  Cockade."  The  two  Williamites 
appear  playing  fife  and  drum,  Owen 
with  them.) 

First  Williamite:  That  is  right!  We  are 
changing  the  tune  well  now.  We  had  to  keep 
up  the  old  one  so  long  as  our  Newry  comrades 


The  White  Cockade  129 

were  within  hearing.  That  they  may  have  a  quick 
journey  toWexford!  Now  for  the  white  cockade! 
(Owen  gives  them  each  one,  and  they  put 
them  in  their  hats.) 

Owen:  You  did  well,  getting  leave  to  come 
back  and  to  watch  the  pier. 

Second  Williamite:     So  we  will  watch  it  well 

James:     Let  me  pass  if  you  please. 

First  Williamite:  Where  are  you  going,  my 
little  priest? 

James:  I  am  going  on  my  own  business. 
Let  me  pass. 

First  Williamite:  I  don't  know  about  that. 
I  have  orders  to  watch  the  pier.  Double 
orders.  Orders  from  King  William  to  let  no 
one  leave  it,  and  orders  to  let  no  one  come 
near  it,  from  King  James. 

James:  I  tell  you  I  am  going  on  King  James's 
basiness. 

First  Williamite:  He  will  be  here  in  a  min- 
ute. He  is  gathering  men  and  horses  below 
to  the  west  of  the  town.  Wait  till  he  comes. 

James:  No,  no,  I  cannot  wait.  (Tries  to 
get  through.) 

First  Williamite:  You  will  have  to  wait. 
No  hurry!  The  Mass  can't  begin  without  you! 

James:  I  can  make  you  let  me  go  with 
one  word. 

Second    Williamite:      (Catching    hold  of  him.) 

VOL.  ii — 9 


130  The  White  Cockade 

Faith,  I  can  hold  you  without  any  word  at 
all. 

James:  (Wrenching  himself  free.)  Back,  fool, 
back.  I  am  the  King! 

Both  the  Williamites:    Ha,  ha,  ha!    Ho,  ho,  ho! 

Second  Williamite:    O  the  liar! 

Carter:    You  must  believe  His  Majesty. 

First  Williamite:  I  do,  as  much  as  I  believe 
you  yourself  to  be  Patrick  Sarsfield. 

Owen:     That  Patrick  Sarsfield! 

Carter:  How  dare  you  doubt  that  this  is 
the  King? 

First  Williamite:  I  don't.  I  have  no  doubt 
at  all  upon  the  matter.  I  wouldn't  believe 
it  from  Moses  on  the  mountain. 

James:  You  common  people  cannot  re- 
cognise high  blood.  I  say  I  am  the  King.  You 
would  know  it  quickly  enough  if  you  could 
see  me  in  my  right  place! 

First  Williamite:  We  might.  Your  reverence 
would  look  well  upon  the  throne.  Here,  boys, 
make  a  throne  for  His  Majesty.  (They  cross 
hands  and  put  him  up  as  if  on  a  throne.)  Hur- 
rah! This  is  the  third  King  we  have  shouted 
for  within  the  last  six  hours! 

James:     Let  me  down,  I  say! 

First  Williamite:  Throw  out  gold  and  silver 
to  the  crowd!  Every  King  throws  out  gold 
and  silver  when  he  comes  to  the  throne! 


The  White  Cockade  131 

Second  Williamite:  Give  us  our  fee!  Give 
us  an  estate!  I  would  like  mine  in  the 
County  Meath. 

First  Williamite:     Can    you    touch    for    the 
evil?     Here  is  a  boy  that  has  the  evil!      We  '11 
know  you  are  a  King  if  you  can  cure  the  evil! 
All:    Ha,  ha,  ha!    Ho,  ho,  ho! 
James:    Let  me  down,  traitors! 

(A  sound  of  keening  heard.) 
Owen:    Here  is  the  poor  Lady. 

(She  comes  in  keening.    They  put  down  the 

King.) 

James:  Here  is  a  witness  for  me.  She 
knew  me  last  night. 

Carter:    She  knew  the  true  King's  hand. 
James:     Lady    Dereen,    you    knew    me     last 
night.     Tell  these  fools  what  they  will  not  believe 
from  me,  that  I  am  the  King. 

(She  begins  keening  again.) 
James:     (Touching  her  arm.)      Look   at   me. 
Am  I  not  a  Stuart?    Touch  my  hand.     Am  I  not 
the  King? 

(He  holds  out  his  hand;  she  takes  it,  looks 
vacantly  at  it,  drops  it,  and  is  silent  for 
a  minute.) 

Lady:  (Crying  out.)  The  King!  There  is 
no  King!  The  King  is  dead;  he  died  in  the 
night!  Did  you  not  hear  me  keening  him? 
My  lord  is  dead,  and  my  kinsmen  are  dead, 


132  The  White  Cockade 

and  my  heart  is  dead;  and  now  my  King  is 
dead!  He  gave  his  father  a  bad  burying; 
we  will  give  him  a  good  burying — deep,  deep, 
deep.  Dig  under  the  rivers,  put  the  mountains 
over  him;  he  will  never  rise  again.  He  is  dead, 
he  is  dead!  (She  sits  down  rocking  herself  and 
sings.) 

Ochone,  ochone,  my  pleasant  Stuart; 
Ochone,  heart-secret  of  the  Gael! 

(Sarsfield  comes  in  hurriedly,  motions 
them  all  back.  Speaks  to  James.) 

Sarsfield:  All  is  well,  sir.  Our  men  are  com- 
ing in  fast.  There  are  two  hundred  of  them  to 
the  west  of  the  harbour.  We  are  late  for  the 
surprise — that  chance  is  gone;  but  we  can 
bring  good  help  to  hearten  Limerick.  The 
King's  presence  will  bring  out  the  white 
cockade  like  rush-cotton  over  the  bogs. 

James:    Yes,   yes;  very  good,   very   good. 

Sarsfield:    Are  you  ready,  sir? 

James:  Oh,  yes,  ready,  very  ready — to  leave 
this  place. 

Sarsfield:    This  way,  sir,  this  way! 

James:  I  know  the  way;  but  I  have  left  my 
papers — papers  of  importance — in  that  cellar.  I 
must  go  back  and  get  them. 

Sarsfield.;    Now   William's   troop    has   left,    I 


The  White  Cockade  133 

will  have  the  horses  brought  to   the   very   edge 
of  the  pier — all  is  safe  now. 

James:  Yes,  yes,  I  am  sure  there  is  no  danger. 
Yes,  go  for  the  horses;  take  care  they  are  well 
saddled. 

(He  goes  out  left;  Sarsfield  right.   Matt  and 
Mrs.   Kelleher  come  on  from  left.) 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  And  is  it  true,  Owen,  my  son, 
that  you  are  going  following  after  the  King? 

Owen:     It  is  true,  surely. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  You  that  would  never  stir  from 
the  hearth  to  be  taking  to  such  hardship!  Well, 
I  would  n't  like  to  be  begrudging  you  to  the 
King's  service.  What  goes  out  at  the  ebb  comes 
in  on  the  flood.  It  might  be  for  profit. 

Matt:  Here  is  the  belt  your  grandfather 
owned,  and  he  fighting  at  Ross;  pistols  there  are 
in  it.  Do  your  best  now  for  the  King.  I  '11  drink 
— no,  I  swore  I  would  never  drink  another  drop 
till  such  time 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  There  is  my  own  good  cloak 
for  you — there  is  something  in  the  pocket  you  will 
find  no  load.  (Owen  puts  on  cloak  and  belt.)  And 
here  's  cakes  for  the  journey — faith,  you  '11  be  as 
proud  now  as  a  cat  with  a  straddle! 

Owen:  You  will  hear  no  story  of  me  but  a 
story  you  would  like  to  be  listening  to.  Believe 
me,  I  will  fight  well  for  the  King. 

(Sailors  come  from  left,  rolling  a  very  large 


134  The  White  Cockade 

barrel;  they  are  singing  their  song. 
Carter  is  walking  after  it.) 

Matt:  Stop  there!  What  is  that  barrel  you 
are  bringing  away? 

Sailor:     It  is  one  bacon-barrel. 

Matt:  It  is  not.  It  is  one  of  my  big  wine 
barrels. 

Sailor:     Oh,  ah !     I  assure  you  there  is  meat  in  it. 

Matt:  (Putting  his  hand  on  it.)  Do  you 
think  I  would  not  know  the  size  of  one  of  my 
own  barrels  if  I  met  with  it  rolling  through  the 
stars?  That  is  a  barrel  that  came  from  France, 
and  it  full  of  wine. 

Carter:     (To  sailors.)     Go  on  with  the  barrel. 

Matt:  I  will  not  let  it  go!  Why  would  I  let 
my  good  wine  go  out  of  the  country,  even  if  I  can 
have  no  more  than  the  smell  of  it  myself?  Bring 
it  back  to  the  cellar,  I  say,  and  go  get  your 
meat. 

Carter:  It  must  be  taken  to  the  ship.  It  is 
the  King's  wish. 

Matt:  The  King's  wish?  If  that  is  so — where 
is  the  King,  till  I  ask  him?  (Looks  around.) 

Carter:  I  tell  you  it  must  go.  I  will  pay 
you  for  it — here  is  the  money.  What  is  its  worth? 

Matt:  Well,  if  you  pay  fair,  I  have  nothing  to 
say.  If  it  was  to  the  King  himself  it  was  going, 
I  would  take  nothing  at  all.  He  would  be 
welcome. 


The  White  Cockade  135 

Carter:  (Giving  money.)  Here,  here.  (To 
sailors.)  Go  on,  now;  hurry!  Be  careful! 

First  Williamite:  It  is  a  pity  now,  to  see  good 
wine  leaving  the  country,  and  a  great  drouth  on 
the  King's  good  soldiers. 

Second  Williamite:  He  should  not  begrudge 
us  a  glass,  indeed.  It  will  strengthen  us  for 
all  we  will  have  to  do  at  Limerick.  (Puts  his  hand 
on  barrel.) 

Carter:  This  belongs  to  me!  This  is  my 
property.  If  you  commit  robbery,  you  must 
account  to  the  King! 

Matt:  Look  here,  I  have  still-whiskey  in  a 
jar.  I  brought  it  out  to  give  you  a  drop  to  put 
courage  into  you  before  you  would  go.  That  is 
what  will  serve  you  as  well. 

First  Williamite:  We  will  let  the  barrel  go, 
so. 

Second  Williamite:  We  could  bring  away  the 
jar  with  us.  I  would  sooner  have  wine  now  to 
drink  the  King's  health. 

Lady:  (Standing  up,  suddenly,  and  coming  in 
front  of  barrel.)  Wine,  wine,  for  the  King's 
wake ! 

Second  Williamite:  Listen  to  her!  That  is 
a  good  thought.  We  will  drink  to  the  King 
living,  and  she  will  drink  to  him  dead. 

Lady:  (To  Matt.)  Wine,  wine,  red  wine! 
Do  you  grudge  it  for  the  King's  wake?  White 


136  The  White  Cockade 

candles  shining  in   the   skies,    red  wine  for  the 
King's  pall-bearers! 

(She  lifts  up  her  hands.) 

First  Williamite:  She  is  right,  she  is  right. 
(To  Matt.)  Since  you  yourself  turned  sober,  you 
are  begrudging  wine  for  the  King!  Here! 

(Tilts  up  barrel.    A  muffled  groan  is  heard 

from  inside.) 

Second  Williamite:  That  is  a  queer  sort  of  a 
gurgling  the  French  wine  has — there  is  ferment 
in  it  yet.  Give  me  an  awl  till  I  make  a  hole. 

(Another  stifled  groan.) 
Carter:    Oh,  oh,  oh,  oh! 

(Puts  his  cloak  over  his  ears,  and  retires  to 

back.) 

First  Williamite:  (Taking  out  bayonet.)  Here, 
let  me  at  it! 

(Knocks  head  off  barrel;  Carter  giving  short 

groans  at  every  stroke.) 
Carter:    Oh!  be  gentle. 

First  Williamite:  Never  fear.  I  have  no  mind 
to  spill  it.  (Takes  off  top.) 

(The  King  stands  up,  pale  and  shaking. 
His  cloak   has  fallen    off,    and  chain 
and  Order  are  displayed.) 
First  Williamite:     It  is  the  little  priest! 
Second  Williamite:     Is  he  King  yet?     Or  fairy? 
Matt:     (Looking  in.)     Would  any  one,  now,  be- 
lieve that  he  has  drunk  the  barrel  dry! 


The  White  Cockade  137 

First  Williamite:    I   wish   I   had  been  in  his 
place. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:    It  is  trying  to  desert  he  was. 
That  's  as  clear  as  a  whistle. 

Owen:    The  traitor!    Wanting  to  desert    the 
King! 

Matt:    But  will  any  one  tell  me  now,  what  in 
the  wide  world  did  he  do  with  all  the  wine? 

Lady:    Is   not   that   a   very  strange  coffin,   a 
very  strange  coffin  to  have  put  about  a  King? 

Mrs.  Kelleher:     Here  is  King  James ! 

(They  all  turn   to   right.     Sars field  comes 
in.     He  stands  still.) 

Owen:    Deserting  your  Majesty,  he  was ! 

Matt:     Making  away  in  my  barrel! 

First  Williamite:     Having  drunk  all  the  wine! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:    Let  a  goat  cross  the  threshold, 
and  he  '11  make  for  the  altar! 

Sars  field:     (Taking  off  his  hat.)     Your  Majesty ! 

James:     I  wish,  General  Sarsfield,  you  would 
control  this  dangerous  rabble 

All:    Sarsfield! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:    Who  are  you  at  all? 

Sarsfield:     I  am  Patrick  Sarsfield,  a  poor  soldier 
of  King  James. 

Mrs.  Kelleher:    And   where,   in   the   name   of 
mercy,  is  King  James? 

Sarsfield:    You  are  in  His  Majesty's  presence. 
(He  goes  to  help  James  out  of  barrel.) 


138  The  White  Cockade 

All  together:     That  His  Majesty! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  It  seems  to  me  we  have  a 
wisp  in  place  of  a  broom. 

Owen:  Misfortune  on  the  fools  that  helped 
him! 

First  Williamite:  Is  it  for  him  we  gave  up 
William? 

Matt:    And  that  I  myself  gave  up  drink! 

Sars field:  (Who  has  helped  the  King  out  of 
the  barrel,  takes  him  by  the  hand.)  Any  roughness 
that  was  done  to  the  King  was  done,  I  am  sure, 
unknowingly.  But  now,  if  there  are  any  little 
whisperings,  any  hidden  twitterings,  as  to  what 
His  Majesty  has  thought  fit  to  do,  it  is  I  myself 
who  will  give  a  large  answer!  (He  unsheaths 
sword.) 

James:  I  have  business  in  France.  You  may 
stay  here,  General  Sarsfield,  if  you  will.  But 
I  will  lead  you  no  longer;  I  will  fight  no  more 
for  these  cowardly  Irish.  You  must  shift  for 
yourselves;  I  will  shift  for  myself. 

Carter:    Not  a  doubt  of  it! 

James:  (Going  off,  stops  and  turns.)  When 
I  come  back  as  a  conqueror,  with  my  armies 
and  my  judges,  there  are  some  I  may  pardon — 
my  servants  who  deserted  me,  my  daughters  who 
turned  against  me.  But  there  are  some  I  will 
never  forgive,  some  I  will  remember  now  and 
ever,  now  and  for  ever — those  of  you  who 


The  White  Cockade  139 

stopped  the  barrel,  those  who  tilted  it  up,  and 
those  who  opened  it ! 

(He   goes   out   right  followed   by    Sarsfield 
and  sailors.     Owen,  throwing  off  cloak 
and    belt,    and    tearing    cockade  from 
his  hat,  throws  himself  down  and  begins 
to  play  jacks  tones  as  in  First  Act.) 
Lady:     (Turning  to  face  the  other  way.)     Where 
is   the   sun?     I   am   tired   of   looking    for   it   in 
the  east.     The  sun  is  tired  of  rising  in  the  east ; 
it  may  be  in  the  west  it  will  rise  to-morrow! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Gone  is  he?  My  joy  be  with 
him,  and  glass  legs  under  him!  Well,  an  empty 
house  is  better  than  a  bad  tenant.  It  might  be 
for  profit. 

Matt:  (Taking  up  jar.)  Well,  I  am  free  from 
my  pledge,  as  the  King  says,  now  and  ever,  now 
and  for  ever!  (Drinks  from  jar.)  No  more 
pledges!  It 's  as  well  to  be  free.  (He  sits  down 
beside  Owen.) 

First  Williamite:  Which  King  are  we  best 
with ;  the  one  we  left  or  the  one  that  left  us? 

Second  Williamite:     Little  I  care.     Toss  for  it. 

(Tosses  a  penny.)     Heads,  William;  harps,  James! 

First  Williamite:     (Picking  it  up.)     Heads  it  is. 

(Taking  cockade  from  his  hat.)     There  's  good-bye 

to  the  white  cockade. 

(He  and  the  others  throw  cockades  on  the 
ground,  and  walk  off .) 


140  The  White  Cockade 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  (To  Owen.)  And  what  will  you 
be  doing,  Owen?  You  will  hardly  go  fighting 
now. 

Owen:  What  business  would  I  have  fighting? 
I  have  done  with  kings  and  makings  of  kings. 
(Throws  up  jackstones  and  catches  all.}  Good, 
that 's  buttermilk ! 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  You  are  right;  you  are  right. 
It 's  bad  changing  horses  in  the  middle  of  a  ford. 
(She  takes  back  her  cloak.)  Is  all  safe  in  the 
pocket?  It 's  long  before  I  '11  part  with  it  again — 
once  bit,  twice  shy.  It  might  all  be  for  profit. 

(Sars field  comes  back.  Stands  still  a  minute, 
holding  hat  in  his  hand.  Lets  sword 
drop  on  the  ground.) 

Sarsfield:  Gone,  gone ;  he  is  gone — he  betrayed 
me — he  called  me  from  the  battle — he  lost  me 
my  great  name — he  betrayed  Ireland.  Who  is 
he?  What  is  he?  A  King  or  what?  (He  pulls 
feathers  one  by  one  from  cockade.)  King  or  knave 
— soldier — sailor — tinker  —  tailor  —  beggarman — 
thief!  (Pulls  out  last  feather.)  Thief,  that  is  it, 
— thief.  He  has  stolen  away;  he  has  stolen  our 
good  name ;  he  has  stolen  our  faith ;  he  has  stolen 
the  pin  that  held  loyalty  to  royalty!  A  thief,  a 
fox — a  fox  of  trickery!  (He  sits  down  trembling.) 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  (Coming  to  him.)  So  you  have 
thrown  away  the  white  cockade,  Sarsfield,  the 
same  as  Owen. 


The  White  Cockade  141 

Sars field:     (Bewildered.)     The  same  as  Owen? 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Owen  threw  away  the  King's 
cockade  the  same  as  yourself. 

Sarsfield:  Threw  it  away!  What  have  I 
thrown  away?  Have  I  thrown  away  the  white 
cockade? 

Mrs.  Kelleher:    You  did,  and  scattered  it 

(Sarsfield  lifts  his  hat  and  looks  at  it.) 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  If  you  want  another,  they  are 
here  on  the  ground  as  plenty  as  blackberries  in 
harvest.  (Takes  up  a  cockade.) 

Sarsfield:  Give  it  here  to  me.  (He  begins 
putting  it  in  his  hat,  his  hand  still  trembling.) 

Matt:  You  will  go  no  more  fighting  for  King 
James!  You  are  free  of  your  pledge!  We  are 
all  free  of  our  pledge! 

Sarsfield:    Where  is  my  sword? 

(Mrs.  Kelleher  gives  it.    He  puts  it  in  sheath.) 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  Look,  now,  the  skin  is  nearer 
than  the  shirt.  One  bit  of  a  rabbit  is  worth  two 
of  a  cat.  It 's  no  use  to  go  looking  for  wool  on 
a  goat.  It 's  best  for  you  fight  from  this  out 
for  your  own  hand  and  for  Ireland.  Why  would 
you  go  spending  yourself  for  the  like  of  that  of  a 
king? 

Sarsfield:  (Buckling  on  his  sword-belt.)  Why, 
why?  Who  can  say?  What  is  holding  me? 
Habit,  custom.  What  is  it  the  priests  say? — 
the  cloud  of  witnesses.  Maybe  the  call  of  some 


142  The  White  Cockade 

old  angry  father  of  mine,  that  fought  two  thousand 
years  ago  for  a  bad  master!  (He  stands  up,) 
Well,  good-bye,  good-bye.  (To  Mrs.  Kelleher, 
who  is  holding  out  cakes.)  Yes,  I  will  take  these 
cakes.  (Takes  them.)  It  is  likely  I  will  find 
empty  plates  in  Limerick.  (Goes  off.) 

Lady:  (To  Mrs.  Kelleher.)  Is  not  that  a 
very  foolish  man  to  go  on  fighting  for  a  dead  king? 

Mrs.  Kelleher:  (Tapping  her  forehead.)  In- 
deed, I  think  there  's  rats  in  the  loft! 

Lady:  (Tapping  her  forehead.)  That  is  it, 
that  is  it — we  wise  ones  know  it.  Fighting  for 
a  dead  king! — ha!  ha!  ha!  Poor  Patrick  Sars- 
field  is  very,  very  mad ! 

Curtain 


THE  DELIVERER 


THIS  ALSO  IS  FOR  YOU  JOHN  QUINN 


143 


PERSONS 
Ard 
Dan 
Malachi 
Ard's  Wife 
Dan's  Wife 
Malachi' s  Wife 
The  King's  Nurseling 
A  Steward 
An  Officer 
One  or  More  Soldiers 


144 


Scene:  Steps  of  a  palace  at  the  Inver  of  the  Nile. 
At  bottom  of  steps  Ard,  Dan,  and  Malachi  are 
mixing  mortar  and  carrying  stones.  Music 
and  laughter  heard  from  window  of  palace 
above.  Banners  with  Pharaoh's  ensigns,  hawk, 
globe,  and  sun.  The  men  are  in  poor  clothes 
and  look  tired 

Dan:  It  is  time  for  the  women  to  be  bring- 
ing the  dinner.  I  'm  near  starved  with  the 
hunger. 

Ard:  Here  they  are  now  bringing  it.  Where 
would  be  the  use  them  coming,  and  the  bell  not 
to  have  rung? 

(Bell  rings.  They  all  fling  down  what  is 
in  their  hands  and  throw  themselves  on 
the  ground.) 

Malachi:  I  am  racked  with  raising  stones 
and  bearing  them  to  their  place.  That  is 
work  I  never  was  reared  to. 

Dan:  What  call  had  our  old  fathers  bringing 
us  away  out  of  our  own  place? 

Malachi:     It  was  the  time  of  the  great  hunger 

VOL.  n— -10  145 


146  The  Deliverer 

drove  them  away,  the  time  the  palmers  on  the 
leaves  had  the  crops  entirely  destroyed. 

Ard:  We  would  be  better  off  there  in  hun- 
gry times  itself,  than  the  way  we  are  in  this 
place,  with  the  over-government  taking  the  hens 
off  the  floor  and  the  plates  from  the  dresser,  and 
the  bed  itself  from  under  us  with  their  taxes  and 
with  their  rates. 

Malachi:  The  time  I  was  rising  we  were 
treated  fair  enough.  But  the  nice  stock  is  all 
done  away  with  now,  and  buried  and  gone 
to  the  grave. 

Dan:  It  is  a  bad  story  for  us  they  to  be 
wore  away. 

Malachi:  There  is  nothing  left  in  it  at  this 
time  but  tyrants  and  schemers. 

Dan:  We  to  be  back  in  our  own  country  we 
could  knock  a  living  out  of  it.  It  is  only  an 
odd  time  the  hunger  makes  headway.  It  is 
often  my  father  told  me  he  had  two  horses 
belonging  to  him,  and  they  drawing  loads  for 
eight  of  his  first  cousins. 

Ard:  If  it  is  law  it  is  bad  law  that  keeps  us 
labouring  out  under  the  mad  sun.  A  King  of 
Foreign  to  be  getting  his  own  profit  through 
our  sweat,  and  we  to  be  getting  poor  and 
getting  miserable. 

Dan:  If  we  had  but  the  means  to  shape  these 
boards  into  some  sort  of  a  curragh,  and  to 


The  Deliverer  147 

put  pins  in  it  and  to  settle  it  with  oars  like,  we 
might  go  steer  towards  our  own  harbour. 

Malachi:  You  have  not  the  means  to  do  it. 
Sure  at  the  time  of  the  Flood  they  were  a  hun- 
dred years  making  a  bark.  And  if  it  took  but 
three  ships  or  four  to  bring  the  twelve  families 
to  this  place,  three  times  three  would  hardly 
be  enough  to  hold  us  at  this  time,  and  every 
third  man  or  so  bringing  a  wife  along  with  him. 

Dan:  There  is  a  troop  of  ships  out  in  the 
Inver  at  this  time,  and  scraping  against  the  quay. 
Speckled  sails  they  were  putting  up  and  pull- 
ing down  a  while  ago. 

Ard:  It  is  the  King's  heir  is  after  being  put 
in  command  of  those  ships,  and  he  being  come 
to  sensible  years.  There  is  talk  of  a  young 
queen  is  looking  out  from  her  window  for  him, 
in  Spain  or  Armenia  or  some  place  of  the 
sort.  I  was  picking  news  out  of  a  man  of 
the  Egyptians  a  while  ago.  It  is  more  than 
that  he  was  telling  me.  (The  women  come  in.) 

Dan:  What  is  it  you  have  for  me,  astore, 
within  in  the  fold  of  your  shawl? 

Dan's  Wife:    It  is  but  a  bit  of  cold  stirabout. 

Dan:  It  is  made  but  of  yellow  meal.  I  'm 
in  dread  I  might  heave  it  up  again.  You 
would  n't  have  e  'er  a  drop  of  milk? 

Dan's  Wife:  I  thought  to  make  kitchen  with 
an  eel  I  chanced  in  the  mud  of  the  river,  and  I 


148  The  Deliverer 

filling  a  tin  can  at  the  brink.  But  there  came  a 
cat  of  the  King's  cats  into  the  house,  and 
snapped  it  off  of  the  plate.  I  was  afeard  to 
lay  a  hand  on  him,  and  he  coming  from  the 
place  he  did. 

Malachi:  You  did  well  to  lay  no  hand  on 
him.  Those  cats  are  a  class  in  themselves.  To 
claw  you  they  would,  and  bite  you,  and  put 
poison  in  your  veins  the  same  as  a  serpent,  as 
maybe  they  might  be  in  the  early  time  of  the 
world. 

Malachfs  Wife:  That  's  right.  I  'd  sooner 
the  mice  to  be  running  in  and  out  like  chick- 
ens than  to  bring  one  of  them  in  on  the 
floor. 

Ard:  To  gather  here  at  the  steps  at  the  fall 
of  night  they  do,  and  to  fight  and  to  bawl  for 
the  bits  are  thrown  from  the  King's  house. 

Ard's  Wife:  To  come  into  my  own  little  street 
a  one  of  them  did,  and  left  me  with  nothing  but 
one  bare  duck. 

Ard:  It  is  made  too  much  of  they  are  en- 
tirely. One  of  them  to  die  at  any  time,  to 
cry  and  to  keen  him  the  owners  will,  the  same 
as  they  would  a  child  or  a  human. 

Dan:  To  meet  with  one  of  them  in  the 
moonlight  I  did  a  while  ago.  I  am  not  the 
better  of  it  yet.  It  went  into  some  sort  of  a 
hump,  and  said  it  had  to  walk  its  seven  acres. 


The  Deliverer  149 

I  give  you  my  word  you  would  say  it  to  be  as 
big  as  an  elephant. 

Ard's  Wife:  I  would  n't  doubt  it,  and  all  they 
get  thrown  out  from  that  kitchen.  Sure  the 
rinsings  of  the  plates  in  the  servants'  hall  would 
grease  cabbage  for  the  whole  province.  Every 
day  is  Christmas  in  that  house. 

Ard:  There  is  a  grand  supper  to  be  in  it 
now  that  the  King  is  come,  and  his  big  men 
and  his  friends. 

Malachi's  Wife:  Sure  the  world  knows  that. 
It  is  likely  it  will  be  a  feast  will  last  through  a 
year  and  a  day. 

Ard:  It  will  not  but  till  to-morrow  sometime, 
when  the  King's  nurseling  will  make  his  start  in 
the  ships. 

Ard's  Wife:  A  hundred  cooks  that  are  in  it, 
boiling  and  roasting  and  mixing  cakes,  with  cur- 
rants and  with  caraway  seeds.  Sure  the  bacon 
they  have  dressed  in  frying  pans,  you  would 
smell  it  through  the  seven  parishes. 

Dan:  And  ourselves  dragging  with  hunger. 
Nothing  to  eat  or  to  fall  back  on. 

Ard's  Wife:  It  is  the  poor  know  all  the  troubles 
of  the  world. 

Malachi:  To  be  a  stranger  and  an  exile, 
that  is  the  worst  thing  at  all.  The  feet  bending 
under  me,  and  no  one  belonging  to  me  but  God. 

Ard:     If  it  is  law  it  is  wrong  law  some  to  get 


150  The  Deliverer 

their  seven  times  enough,  and  ourselves  never 
to  get  our  half  enough. 

Dan:  We  to  be  without  a  peck  hardly  upon 
our  bones,  and  that  King  to  be  nourished  with 
sweets  and  fooleries,  and  his  stomach  as  big  as 
that  you  would  n't  know  what  to  make  of  it. 

Malachi:  They  would  not  leave  us  on  the 
face  of  the  earth  if  it  was  n't  that  we  do  their 
heavy  work. 

Dan:  Is  there  another  crumb  of  meal  in 
the  handkerchief? 

Dan's  Wife:  There  is  not,  and  no  earthly  thing 
in  the  house  itself,  unless  it  might  be  a  few 
young  nettles  I  put  down  to  boil  in  the  pot. 

Dan:  An  ass  that  would  go  forage  on  the  high- 
way would  get  better  provision,  or  the  dogs  that 
go  preying  for  themselves. 

Malachi' s  Wife:  There  is  no  nature  in  them  at 
all. 

Ard:  It  is  not  right  and  it  is  not  justice, 
riches  to  be  coming  in  to  them,  and  they  asleep 
in  the  bed. 

Malachi:  I  would  ask  no  riches  at  all  besides 
being  in  a  little  village  of  houses  among  my 
own  people,  that  would  have  a  wish  for  my 
bones. 

Dan:  That  I  may  never  sin,  but  I  am 
getting  a  smell  I  never  felt  since  my  grand- 
father's time,  the  smell  of  a  roasted  goose ! 


The  Deliverer  tgi 

Ard:  It  is  a  smell  of  wine  I  am  getting,  that 
is  giving  me  a  twist-like  in  the  heart. 

Malachi's  Wife:  You  would  know  there  to  be 
wine  in  it,  and  the  laughing  is  among  them,  and 
the  stir. 

Ard's  Wife:  There  is  one  of  them  facing  the 
window — throw  your  eye  on  him  now — a  holy 
circus  for  grandeur  he  is,  and  having  a  gold 
chain  about  his  neck. 

Dan's  Wife:  He  is  very  comely  surely  and 
gay.  A  lovely  dotey  young  man. 

Ard:  It  is  easy  be  comely  and  be  light- 
hearted,  and  want  or  trouble  not  to  have 
ever  come  anear  you. 

Malachi's  Wife:  Who  is  he  now?  Is  it  he 
himself  is  the  King's  son? 

Dan's  Wife:  He  should  be  that,  and  he  so  well- 
shaped,  and  curls  on  every  side  of  his  poll,  the 
same  as  a  ridge  of  peas. 

Dan:  Sure  they  all  do  have  curls  of  that  sort 
in  the  King's  house.  I  am  told  it  is  hair  grew 
on  horses'  necks,  or  maybe  on  the  head  of  a 
corp.  To  shape  it  into  rings-like  they  do,  with  a 
bar-like  would  be  reddened  in  among  the  coals. 

Malachi's  Wife:  There  is  not  a  tailor  or  a 
dressmaker  in  the  district  slept  a  wink  these 
seven  nights,  and  all  the  grand  suits  were  ordered 
for  this  big  day. 

Dan's  Wife:    There  is  no  one  can  become  his 


152  The  Deliverer 

suit  better  than  that  King's  son  with  the  laugh 
on  his  mouth.  He  should  make  joy  for  his  lady 
of  a  mother,  and  she  to  be  looking  on  him  this 
day. 

Dan:  You  think  yourself  very  wise  now,  to  be 
giving  out  judgments  about  kings'  sons. 

Dan's  Wife:  Hasn't  he  the  lovely  face?  His 
head  held  up  so  lofty  and  so  high,  and  he  having 
a  hurl  in  his  hand,  and  a  crown  of  posies  on  his 
brow. 

Malachi's  Wife:  The  world  has  flowed  upon 
him.  There  are  some  are  born  having  luck 
through  the  stars  and  through  the  strength  of  the 
moon. 

Dan's  Wife:  Why  would  n't  he  have  luck,  and 
he  to  be  born  in  the  King's  own  palace? 

Ard:  That  is  what  he  would  wish  you  to  be 
thinking. 

Dan's  Wife:  Why  wouldn't  we  think  it?  He's 
as  nice  as  you  'd  ask.  I  see  no  flaw  in  him  at 
all. 

Ard:  You  are  thinking  him  to  be  far  above 
myself  I  suppose? 

Ard's  Wife:  Sure  there  must  be  some  difference 
in  station  and  in  blood.  It  was  the  Almighty 
Himself  put  that  in  the  world. 

Ard:  What  would  you  say  hearing  he  is  not 
far  in  blood  from  ourselves? 

Dan:    That  is  what  we  are  after  being  told, 


The  Deliverer  153 

whether  or  no  it  is  true.  Of  our  own  race  and 
of  our  tribe. 

Malachi:  To  one  of  the  twelve  families  he 
belongs.  To  the  one  breed  with  myself,  but 
that  the  generations  are  scattered. 

Ard:  I  heard  that,  and  that  his  fatner  gave 
in  to  the  hardship. 

Malachi:  He  did  so.  In  heaven  he  is  now, 
and  on  earth  he  was  driving  cattle. 

Dan:  And  his  mother  a  girl  of  the  Kohaths, 
threw  him  out  from  her  on  the  rising  flood. 

Malachi:  The  King's  daughter  that  took 
notice  of  him  in  the  flag-flowers,  and  she  washing 
herself  at  the  time  the  flood  began  to  slacken 
down. 

Ard:  To  rear  him  up  as  her  own  she  did,  and 
on  her  death-bed  she  willed  him  her  father's  heir. 

Dan:  It  is  on  this  day  he  is  to  be  put  be- 
yond all  the  rest  nearly  of  Pharaoh's  people. 

Malachi:  The  curse  of  his  own  people  be 
on  him,  he  to  be  frolicking  where  he  is,  and 
treading  the  stones  were  quarried  through  our 
labour. 

Ard :  Going  here  and  forth,  spending  what 
would  buy  an  estate,  sparkling  abroad  in  the 
fields.  Following  foxes  with  huntsmen  and 
hounds,  or  fowling  after  snipe  and  teal.  That 
the  whole  of  them  may  turn  against  him,  and 
put  their  beaks  through  his  guts,  or  their  claws 


154  The  Deliverer 

or  whatever  disagreeable  weapon-like  the  Lord 
may  have  given  them  for  their  own  protection 
and  their  aid ! 

(Bell  heard  ringing.) 

Dan:  Mind  yourselves,  boys,  there  is  the 
boss  at  the  bell. 

Ard:  It  is  his  own  bones  I  would  wish  to 
see  leaping  and  swinging  up  there  in  the  place 
the  bell  is! 

Dan:    Where  's   the  use   talking.          (Sings.) 

Trouble  I  ne'er  did  find 

Till  I  joined  the  work  with  the  cruel  Turk 
At  the  Inver  of  the  Nile. 

Ard:  Let  ye  all  draw  to  silence.  It  is  the 
Nutcrackers  is  in  it.  He  is  the  worst  tyrant  of 
them  all. 

Dan:  He  would  n't  as  much  as  give  leave  to 
rise  your  back  or  look  around  you.  There  would 
be  no  labourer  alone  with  him,  but  would  be  in 
dread  he  would  kill  him. 

Malachi:  That 's  the  way  with  those  low  quality 
stewards  that  belong  to  the  middling  class. 

Ard:  The  dirty  savage!  He  'd  think  no  more 
of  a  person's  life  than  he  would  of  a  crow. 

Dan:  Whist  your  tongue.  I  would  say  he 
has  drink  taken.  It  is  out  of  the  parlour  he  is 
come. 


The  Deliverer  155 

Steward:  (Coming  rather  unsteadily  down  steps.) 
Get  back  now  to  your  work,  you  scheming  michers ! 
Bring  over  mortar  there,  it  is  wanting  beyond. 
These  steps  had  a  right  to  be  readied  and  finished 
before  the  King  coming  here  at  all.  Go  bring 
mortar,  I  say. 

Dan:  We  will,  your  honour,  the  very  minute 
it  will  be  ready. 

Steward:  It  should  be  ready  by  this,  and  you 
not  to  be  sleeping  and  idle  and  playing  odd  and 
even  with  bits  of  stones. 

Malachi:  It  failed  us  to  mix  it,  the  lime  being 
all  used  and  spent. 

Steward:  How  well  you  did  n't  go  look  for  more, 
you  crippled  jackass. 

Dan:  Sure  we  went  seeking  it,  and  there  was 
no  lime  in  it,  and  no  stones  broken,  and  no 
fire  kindled  in  the  kilns. 

Malachi:  The  men  had  charge  of  them  were 
brought  away  to  be  blowing  the  bellows  for  the 
ovens  were  put  up  for  the  King's  big  dinner. 

Steward:  It  is  too  much  gab  you  have!  It 
is  well  able  you  are  to  make  up  stories  and  lies. 
If  it  was  beef  and  cabbage  you  were  sent  seek- 
ing, you  would  track  it  out  swift  enough ! 

Malachi:  We  are  telling  no  lies.  There  is 
no  lime  to  be  got. 

Steward:  Let  ye  mix  the  mortar,  so,  without 
lime. 


156  The  Deliverer 

Malachi:  There  is  no  one,  tradesman  or  col- 
lege bred  man,  could  mix  it  without  lime. 

(King's  Nurseling  appears  at  top  of  steps 
and  stands  behind  a  pillar.) 

Steward:  Let  you  do  it  so  with  your  enchant- 
ments. You  that  have  the  name  of  being  an  old 
prophecy,  let  you  rise  up  and  make  it  from  that 
bit  of  a  board.  Sure,  you  are  able  to  change  your- 
self into  an  eel,  the  same  as  the  King's  Druids. 

Malachi:  There  is  no  reason  in  what  you  are 
saying. 

Steward:  No,  but  let  you  change  yourself  and 
your  two  comrades  into  the  shape  of  three  hares 
till  I  '11  go  coursing.  I  '11  engage  I  '11  come  up 
with  you!  I  '11  put  my  teeth  in  you!  (Cracks 
whip.)  If  you  can't  do  no  other  thing  you  can 
make  sport  for  us! 

Malachi:  Any  work  I  have  to  do,  I  will  do  it 
fair  and  honest.  There  is  no  justice  asking  me 
to  do  more  than  that. 

Steward:  I  '11  show  you  justice !  All  the  justice 
you  have  to  look  for  in  this  place  is  in  my  own 
cat-o'-nine-tails!  (Cracks  it.) 

Malachi:  Is  it  to  strike  me  with  your  lash 
you  would? 

Steward:  It  is,  and  to  strip  the  hide  off  of 
you,  to  make  tacklings  will  yoke  your  brood  and 
your  litter  to  the  plough.  (Lifts  whip.) 

Dan:    Ah,  now  your  honour,  you  will  not  lay 


The  Deliverer  157 

the  whip  on  Malachi !  Old  he  is  and  failing  from 
the  world.  He  is  delicate,  he  cannot  stand. 

Ard:  He  is  no  way  deserving  of  cruelty.  An 
honester  man  never  followed  a  beast.  There  is 
not  the  weight  of  that  on  his  character. 

Steward:  There  will  be  the  weight  of  this 
upon  his  back!  (Flourishes  whip.) 

Malachi:    Take  care  but  I  will  stop  your  hand ! 

Steward:  Is  it  to  your  devils  you  are  calling 
now,  and  to  the  witches  of  the  air?  It  is  not  to 
flog  you  I  will  be  satisfied.  You  '11  be  making 
provision  for  the  crows  to-night  if  there  's  a  rope 
to  be  found  in  Egypt ! 

Malachi:  I  will  call  for  help  to  the  King's 
nurseling.  Let  him  say  am  I  to  be  abused. 

Steward:  The  King's  nurseling!  Ha,  ha,  ha! 
Is  it  that  you  are  thinking  that  one  will  come 
to  your  help? 

Malachi:  It  is  certain  he  would  be  able  to  save 
a  man  from  the  foot  of  the  gallows. 

Steward:  Is  it  the  like  of  ye  he  would  stretch 
out  to,  and  the  whole  shoal  of  ye  to  be  dying 
like  fish?  Did  n't  you  hear  the  trumpets  bray- 
ing for  him  since  morning?  This  is  his  big  day. 
Sure,  myself  and  the  rest  of  the  bailiffs  and  the 
stewards  are  after  drinking  to  his  good  health! 

Malachi:     He  is  of  our  race. 

Steward:  If  he  was  n't  you  might  have  some 
chance.  He  'd  as  soon  confess  himself  to  be  a 


158  The  Deliverer 

pig  of  a  herd  of  pigs.  He  that  was  reared  to 
the  army,  and  is  apt  to  be  made  king  in  the 
finish. 

Malachi:  We  are  as  good  as  him,  but  that  we 
are  drowned  under  trouble. 

Steward:  Ye  are,  and  under  dirt  and  filth. 
He  would  n't  come  anear  you  or  within  three 
perches  of  you  unless  it  might  be  to  be  picking 
fun  out  of  you.  Ye  that  use  neither  head  bath 
or  body  bath. 

Malachi:  There  was  one  of  his  family  joined 
with  my  own  family  in  marriage,  two  hundred 
years  ago. 

Steward:  You  to  say  that  in  his  hearing, 
he'  d  knock  the  wits  out  of  you,  as  quick  as 
the  blast  of  a  pipe. 

Malachi:  I  tell  you  it  is  as  true  as  that  God's 
sunlight  is  shining  upon  us. 

Steward:  So  it  is,  and  as  true  as  that  there  's 
a  tail  on  Pharaoh's  cat.  Why  would  n't  it 
be  true,  and  he  the  very  dead  spit  and  modelling 
of  yourselves?  He  should  know  that  every  time 
he  would  look  in  a  body  glass.  (King's  Nursel- 
ing moves  as  if  startled.)  But  to  let  on  that 
it  is  true,  he  'd  sooner  drown  himself  on  the 
race  course,  that  is  at  this  time  under  flood. 

Malachi:  He  to  know  the  whole  truth  he  will 
help  us. 

Steward:    He    will    not.     Very   high    up    in 


The  Deliverer  159 

himself  he  is.  He  would  think  you  to  be  no 
credit  to  him.  Very  proud  and  stiff; — and  if  it 
was  n't  for  the  King's  kindness,  and  the  King's 
daughter  that  picked  him  from  the  gutter,  it  is 
squealing  under  the  lash  he  would  be  at  this 
minute  the  same  as  yourselves.  The  King's 
nurseling!  A  scamp  that  is  ignorant  of  his  mother 
and  of  his  father  along  with  that ! 

King's  Nurseling:  (Coming  before  them  sud- 
denly.) What  are  you  saying? 

Steward:  Oh,  sir,  your  honour,  I  said  nothing, 
nothing  at  all  worth  while ! 

King's  Nurseling:     I  heard  what  you  said. 

Steward:  Sure,  you  never  thought  it  was  of 
your  honour  I  was  speaking.  I  would  never  do  a 
thing  like  that.  I  was  talking  of — of  a  mermaid's 
son  my  grandmother  used  to  be  telling  me  about, 
and  she  enticing  me  to  stop  beside  the  hearth. 

King's  Nurseling:  You  said  I  was  one  of 
these  common  men. 

Steward:  Oh,  sir,  what  are  you  saying? 
What  trade  or  what  consanguinity  could  there 
be  between  the  like  of  you  that  was  reared  in 
golden  cradles,  and  these  slaves,  these  paupers, 
these  tricksters,  rebels,  liars,  herds,  sheepstealers, 
worms  of  the  earth,  rogues  of  the  highway, 
thieves,  informers? 

Malachi:  Stop  your  lies!  We  had  some  in 
our  generations  that  never  knew  the  power  of 


i6o  The  Deliverer 

death.  We  had  saints  and  angels  visiting  our  old 
fathers,  before  ever  there  was  a  Pharaoh  on  the 
Nile! 

Steward:  Listen,  sir,  to  that!  That's  re- 
bellion! That 's  treason-felony!  That  word  will 
have  you  hanged!  Call  out  now  your  soldiers, 
sir!  (He  seizes  Malachi  and  strikes  him.) 

King's  Nurseling:  Leave  your  hold.  (Strikes 
Steward  with  his  hurl.  He  reels  and  falls  back 
out  of  sight  over  the  steps.) 

Malachi:    He  is  dead ! 

Ard:    He  has  his  neck  broke. 

Dan:    That  was  a  good  blow  and  no  mistake. 

Ard:  He  has  him  killed  with  one  blow  of  the 
hurl. 

King's  Nurseling:  Throw  the  carrion  in  a 
hole  of  water!  (Dan  and  Ard  bear  him  away. 
The  women  have  gone  aside.) 

Malachi:  You  stood  up  well  to  him.  It 
took  you  to  tackle  him.  You  behaved  well  doing 
that.  But  I  'm  in  dread  it  will  bring  you  under 
trouble.  The  punishment  for  murder  is  death. 

King's  Nurseling:  I  am  under  trouble  from 
this  out,  surely. 

Malachi:  It  might  not  be  found  out,  and  you 
going  back  quick  into  the  King's  house. 

King's  Nurseling:  I  would  have  been  long 
out  of  that  house,  if  I  knew  it  was  not  from  my 
own  mother  and  father  I  had  a  claim  to  it. 


The  Deliverer  161 

Malachi:    Is  that  the  way  with  you? 

King's  Nurseling:  Yesterday  I  was  son  to 
the  King's  daughter,  and  to-day  I  do  not  know, 
east  or  west,  to  what  tribe  or  family  I  belong. 

Malachi:  Be  satisfied.  You  are  a  good  man's 
son. 

King's  Nurseling:  And  is  it  to  yourselves  I 
belong  by  my  birth?  (Malachi  nods.)  The  world 
knows  I  never  knew  that ! 

Malachi:  It  is  not  with  ourselves  you  will 
stop.  We  are  in  danger  now  to  be  flogged  and 
tortured  and  hanged. 

King's  Nurseling:  What  way  could  I  have 
an  easy  mind  in  it,  and  my  own  people  being  under 
cruelty  and  torment?  It  is  along  with  you  I 
will  stop. 

Malachi:  Take  care  now,  dear.  It  would  be  a 
pity  you  to  die  in  your  young  age. 

King's  Nurseling:  They  did  a  great  wrong 
putting  a  bad  name  on  my  mother's  race,  and 
rearing  myself  to  shun  and  to  mock  at  you, 
thinking  myself  a  better  breed. 

Ard  :  (Who  has  come  back  with  Dan.)  Is  it 
that  you  will  take  our  part? 

King's  Nurseling:  I  will  not  eat  bread  or  take 
my  sleep  again  in  that  house.  I  will  banish 
it  from  me  for  ever. 

Dan:  You  do  not  know  well  what  you  are 
doing,  and  we  being  a  crushed  miserable  race. 

VOL.  II—  II 


i&2  The  Deliverer 

King's  Nurseling:  It  is  not  to  a  crushed  miser- 
able race  I  have  a  mind  to  belong. 

Dan:  Stretch  out  so  to  help  us,  and  to  bring 
us  away  out  of  this. 

Ard:  Let  you  strive  to  put  the  fear  of  God 
on  the  King,  the  way  he  will  let  us  go  free. 

Dan:  You  not  to  be  able  to  ready  the  road 
and  to  make  a  path  before  us,  it  can  be  done  by 
no  other  one. 

Ard:  They  have  put  great  cruelty  upon  us.  It 
is  you  are  the  most  likely  one  might  get  it  taken 
off. 

Dan:  There  is  no  one  but  yourself  to  look  to. 
Every  person  in  this  place  is  very  combined 
against  us. 

Malachi:  It  was  dreamed  to  me  it  was  one 
from  the  King's  house  would  take  in  hand  our 
escape. 

King's  Nurseling:    I  will  do  all  I  can  do. 

Dan:  Do  that,  and  you  will  get  the  blessing 
of  the  people. 

King's  Nurseling:  I  will  bring  you  out  from 
this  disgrace. 

Malachi:  So  he  will.  That  is  in  the  prophecy. 
I  saw  it  in  the  clouds  of  heaven  of  a  winter 
night.  He  will  win  in  the  end,  but  he  will  not 
pass  within  the  mering  of  the  Land  of  Promise. 

King's  Nurseling:  Come  up  with  me  to  a  place 
will  have  no  ears.  I  have  my  plans  to  make.  I 


The  Deliverer  163 

have  commands  to  give  you.     I  am  thinking  I 
see  a  road. 

(Ard  and  Dan  follow  him.     Malachi  tries  to 
but  fails  and  sits  down.) 

Malachi:  I  have  no  bend  in  the  leg.  I  can- 
not get  up  the  steps. 

King's  Nurseling:  Stop  where  you  are  for  a 
while  and  take  your  rest  while  you  can.  When 
this  moon  will  be  over  and  the  next  moon  begun, 
we  will  be  back  in  the  place  our  fathers  owned. 
(Walks  up  steps.  The  women  come  and  kneel  on 
steps  blessing  him.) 

Ard's  Wife:  God  love  you!  My  thousand  bless- 
ings on  my  two  knees  to  you! 

Dan's  Wife:  That  the  world  may  wonder  at 
the  luck  you  '11  have! 

Malachi 's  Wife:  That  my  blessing  may  com- 
fort you,  and  make  you  that  you  '11  never  be 
broken  up ! 

Dan's  Wife:    May  God  increase  you! 

Ard's  Wife:  The  Lord  have  mercy  on  every 
one  belonging  to  you! 

Dan's  Wife:  And  on  every  one  ever  went  from 
you! 

Malachi' s  Wife:  And  on  yourself  at  the  latter 
end. 

Ard's  Wife:  The  laugh  that  is  in  his  eye  should 
be  sunshine  to  ripen  the  barley,  and  bleach  the 
flax  in  the  field ! 


164  The  Deliverer 

Dan's  Wife:  The  kindest  man  that  ever  broke 
the  world's  bread! 

Malachi' s  Wife:  That  he  may  have  the  bed 
of  heaven  whoever  will  be  left  out ! 

(King's  Nurseling,  Dan,  and  Ard  have  gone  off.) 

Malachi:  The  Lord  be  praised  it  is  in  my 
own  country  my  bones  will  be  coffined  at  the  last ! 

Malachi' s  Wife:  There  is  a  hundred  years  come 
into  your  life  with  that  great  news. 

Dan's  Wife:  Is  that  country  I  wonder  as  good 
as  what  they  say? 

Malachi:  It  is  good  and  kind.  The  best  for 
meadows  and  for  fair  water.  Everything  a 
farmer  would  wish  to  have  around  his  house 
he  will  have  it. 

Ard's  Wife:  It  is  estated  people  we  will  be  that 
time.  Hay  and  oats  in  the  haggards,  a  stack 
upon  every  small  patch. 

Malachi' s  Wife:  Sure  the  vessels  will  not  hold 
the  milk  there,  it  is  down  on  the  ground  it  must 
fall.  There  is  honey  on  the  tops  of  the  grass. 

Malachi:  I  to  be  a  beggar  on  the  roads  there 
beyond,  I  would  have  neither  cark  nor  care. 
Keening  done  away  with  and  treachery.  It  is  a 
blessed  place.  There  will  no  snakes  live  in  it. 
They  must  perish  at  the  touch  of  its  earth.  The 
sea  does  be  full  of  all  sorts  of  fish. 

Dan's  Wife:  I  heard  that.  Quality  fish  it  would 
be  easy  to  be  eating.  The  bones  of  them  will 


The  Deliverer  165 

melt  away  in  the  fire.  The  smiths  do  be  forging 
gold  the  same  as  iron. 

Ard's  Wife:  The  next  young  son  that  will  be 
born  to  me,  it  is  not  as  a  slave  he  will  be  reared. 

MalaMs  Wife:  Here  is  Dan  coming.  He  will 
say  are  we  in  a  vision  or  in  a  dream! 

Dan's  Wife:  What  did  the  King's  Nurseling  say 
to  you?  Is  it  in  earnest  at  all  he  is? 

Dan:  He  is,  surely.  He  wanted  but  the  wind 
of  the  word.  Believe  me  that  one  has  a  good 
head  for  plans ! 

Malachi:  What  way  at  all  will  he  get  us  out 
of  this? 

Dan:  By  the  miracles  of  God,  and  the  virtue 
of  those  ships  beyond  at  the  quay. 

Malachi' s  Wife:  The  ships  did  you  say !  That 
is  a  great  thought.  They  should  be  very  an- 
swerable. 

Ard's  Wife:  What  time  will  we  make  our  start? 

Dan:  It  is  on  board  of  those  ships  the  whole 
of  us  are  to  go  to-night.  There  are  orders  sent  to 
the  rest  of  the  twelve  families  in  secret.  Believe 
me,  there  is  a  good  headpiece  on  that  young  boy. 

Dan's  Wife:  And  is  it  to  our  own  country  they 
will  bring  us? 

Dan:  To  go  voyage  with  his  left  hand  to 
the  shore  the  King  thinks  he  will,  and  his  right 
hand  to  the  wideness  of  the  sea.  He  to  be  out 
of  the  harbour,  it  is  not  that  way  he  will  go, 


166  The  Deliverer 

but  his  left  hand  to  be  facing  the  sea.  At  the 
flight  of  night  he  will  be  facing  towards  a  safe 
harbour  near  the  borders  of  our  own  country, 
and  that  is  free  from  Pharaoh's  rule. 

Malachi:    He  will  send  his  armies  after  us  there. 

Dan:  It  is  what  the  youngster  was  saying,  we 
to  be  out  of  his  hand,  every  enemy  has  any  com- 
plaint against  Pharaoh  will  be  on  our  own  side. 
Believe  me,  he  is  great  for  plans. 

Malachi's  Wife:  Ah,  it  is  only  foolishness.  It 
is  impossible  to  steal  away  unknown. 

Dan:  It  is  far  out  in  the  night  we  will  go, 
the  way  they  will  feel  no  noise.  The  choice 
captains  at  the  supper  till  morning,  the  guard 
will  not  be  without  every  sort  of  beer  and  of 
wine.  The  lad  has  the  Heads  of  Police  sent 
watching  higher  up  the  river,  putting  in  their 
mind  that  the  place  being  deserted  there  will  be 
wild  lads  spearing  the  King's  fish.  He  is  sending 
provision  to  the  ships;  food  for  eating,  gold  for 
bestowing,  arms  for  to  banish  enemies.  For  every 
five  pounds  of  meal  he  is  sending  twenty  pound 
of  lead.  Bags  and  bags  of  money  he  has,  gold 
and  notes  to  the  world's  end.  I  wish  I  did  n't 
wipe  the  mortar  from  me  awhile  ago.  There 
might  some  of  the  riches  have  stuck  to  my  feet. 

Malachi1  s  Wife:  Let  us  be  going  from  this  ugly 
place.  It  will  seem  to  be  the  length  of  a  year 
till  I  will  set  out. 


The  Deliverer  167 

Ard's  Wife:  Where  now  is  my  man?  I  would 
wish  to  put  a  white  shirt  on  him  before  we  'd 
set  out,  and  to  round  the  corners  of  his  head. 

Dan:  He  was  sent  to  forewarn  the  neighbours 
to  make  ready,  and  to  strengthen  themselves  for 
the  start.  To  go  borrow  the  makings  of  a  cake 
he  will  bid  them,  and  to  boil  the  soup  of  a  hen. 

Dan's  Wife:  I  should  go  ready  the  children. 
I  should  wish  them  to  put  on  a  good  appearance 
going  back  to  their  own  country.  It  is  well  I 
have  a  bleach  of  clothes  out  drying  on  the  bush. 

Ard's  Wife:  I  got  the  lend  of  a  little  skillet- 
like  from  a  cook  of  the  King's  under-cooks. 
Copper  it  is.  Would  it  be  any  harm  I  wonder 
to  bring  it  away  in  my  box? 

Malachi's  Wife:  I  '11  make  no  delay  and  bring 
no  load  with  me  but  to  put  my  apron  about 
my  head  and  to  walk  out  of  this.  Look  at 
what  came  to  me  from  my  father  and  he  dying. 
The  key  of  the  housedoor  in  my  own  village. 
It  is  here  in  the  bosom  of  my  dress.  I  have  but 
to  turn  it  going  in,  and  to  sit  down  beside  the 
hearth. 

Ard's  Wife:  It  is  likely  it  is  a  tribe  of  grabbers 
you  will  find  on  the  hearth  before  you. 

Malachi:  If  there  are  grabbers  there  before 
us  we  will  know  a  way  to  make  them  quit. 

Ard's  Wife:  We  '11  be  plentiful  from  this  out 
surely. 


168  The  Deliverer 

Dan's  Wife:  There  11  be  currant  cakes  on  the 
table  next  Shrove! 

Malachi:  No  strangers  to  be  meddling  with 
us,  and  leave  to  keep  the  feast  days  and  to 
gather  to  prayers. 

Dan's  Wife:  Let  you  shout  out  now  for  the 
King's  whiteheaded  boy! 

Malachi:  He  is  good  and  he  looks  good. 
He  is  the  best  we  ever  met! 

Ard's  Wife:  As  simple  as  if  he  wasn't  worth 
a  shilling,  and  he  dealing  out  money  in  sacks. 

Dan's  Wife:    A  real  blood  he  is! 

Dan:  Ah,  he  is  no  great  family  man.  Just 
a  clean  family,  that 's  all. 

Malachi:  A  man  that  ignorance  was  hid  from. 
He  should  know  the  seven  languages! 

ArcTs  Wife:  We  should  knock  great  comfort 
out  of  him.  He  is  no  way  flighty  but  good. 

Dan's  Wife:  The  skin  of  his  face  showed  out 
as  fair  as  a  sovereign.  He  has  seven  colours  in 
his  clothes! 

Dan:  I  'm  not  too  bad-looking  myself,  and 
I  to  have  good  means  and  a  good  way  and  not 
to  be  poor  and  badly  clad. 

Dan's  Wife:  The  sweet  eyes  and  the  smile  of 
him!  He  is  a  dear  loughy  man! 

Dan:  That  is  enough  of  gab  about  himself  and 
his  looks.  Let  you  stop  your  clatter  and  your 
talk !  (A  rd  comes  in.) 


The  Deliverer  169 

Ard's  Wife:  The  sea  and  the  hills  would  go 
bail  for  him!  Sure  that  one  would  have  no 
harm  in  him  no  more  than  a  child. 

Dan's  Wife:  We  will  lift  him  up  on  our  shoul- 
ders passing  every  bad  spot  on  the  road !  We  '11 
have  a  terrible  illumination  for  him  the  day  we 
will  come  to  our  own! 

Ard's  Wife:  We  will,  and  put  out  shouts  for 
him  through  the  whole  of  the  seven  parishes! 
His  name  will  be  more  lasting  than  the  cry  of  the 
plover  on  the  bog ! 

Ard:  You  are  very  ready  to  give  praises  and 
to  give  trust  to  one  you  never  cast  an  eye  on  till 
this  day. 

Ard's  Wife:  Sure  any  one  would  think  more 
of  a  stranger  than  of  a  person  they  would  know. 

Malachi's  Wife:  We  have  good  dependence  on 
him.  He  is  kind  hearted  and  willing  hearted. 

Ard's  Wife:  What  could  he  be  but  good,  and 
he  after  making  every  gap  easy  before  us? 

Dan:  The  women  are  that  cracked  after  him. 
You  would  say  they  never  got  a  sight  of  any  man 
besides  a  cripple  or  a  deformed  person  before 
this  day. 

Ard:  That  is  the  way  with  women  and  fools. 
All  that  is  new  is  beautiful.  There  '11  be  another 
telling  by  and  by. 

Malachi's  Wife:  I  would  say  him  to  be  a  nice 
man  and  a  good  man  for  the  world. 


170  The  Deliverer 

Ard:  Wait  a  while  till  we  '11  see  what  way 
will  he  turn  out.  He  did  n't  give  us  our  travel- 
ling charges  yet. 

Dan:  I  would  n't  begrudge  him  praise,  and  I 
being  certain  he  deserved  it. 

Ard:  He  didn't  behave  too  decent  not  leav- 
ing us  so  much  as  a  red  halfpenny  to  drink  his 
health.  What  way  can  we  be  sure  this  voyage 
will  not  be  more  for  killing  than  for  profit? 

Dan:  That  is  true  for  you.  Has  he  skill  to 
bring  us  ploughing  over  the  hills  and  hollows  and 
the  rough  headed  rocks  of  the  sea?  The  narrow 
sea  or  the  wide? 

Malachi:  He  to  have  said  he  will  rise  us  up 
out  of  our  trouble,  he  will  do  it. 

Ard:  It  would  be  a  pity  going  so  far,  and  black 
sails  maybe  to  be  put  up  for  us  before  we  would 
come  to  land.  Well,  drowning  is  laid  down  to 
be  an  easy  death. 

Ard's  Wife:  It  is  often  I  heard  my  grandmother 
saying  there  are  great  baulks  and  great  dangers 
on  the  road,  and  a  red  stream  that  does  be 
boiling  with  the  heat. 

Dan's  Wife:  It  might  be  he  has  flying  ships — 
or  that  the  whole  of  the  stream  and  of  the  ocean 
would  open  before  him,  he  being  blessed. 

Ard's  Wife:  The  blazing  mountain  she  used  to 
be  talking  of,  and  the  mountain  of  needles. 

Dan's  Wife:  It  is  likely  he  has  enough  of  a  charm 


The  Deliverer  171 

to  change  the  points  of  the  needles  to  green  rushes, 
and  to  bring  us  through  the  fire  shivering. 

Ard:  I  'm  in  dread  it  is  to  put  a  good  mouth 
on  himself  he  made  big  promises,  and  to  leave  us 
in  worse  case  after. 

Ard's  Wife:  I  am  thinking  myself  it  will  fail 
us  to  make  our  escape. 

Dan's  Wife:  He  to  put  a  sleeping-pin  through 
Pharaoh's  plaits,  it  will  keep  him  in  the  feathers 
through  the  length  of  nine  days  and  nine  nights. 

Ard's  Wife:  Where  would  be  the  use,  and  the 
King  having  three  times  fifty  beagles  and  three 
hundred  soldiers  at  every  cross  road  and  every 
open  road?  There  could  n't  so  much  as  a  rib  of 
hair  go  pass  athrough  them  unbeknownst. 

Dan's  Wife:  To  put  a  mist-like  about  them  he 
might,  the  way  they  would  go  astray  and  be  strik- 
ing and  hitting  at  one  another  and  at  themselves. 

Dan:  I  'm  in  dread  whatever  way  it  is,  we 
will  have  a  queer  long  road  to  travel. 

Ard:  That  is  true  for  you.  I  met  with  a 
priest  of  the  King's  priests,  and  I  coming  out 
over  the  threshold  of  the  youngster's  office.  To 
stop  and  to  talk  with  me  he  did.  A  very  friendly 
man;  and  shook  hands  with  me  and  gave  me 
the  hand  out. 

Dan:  Is  it  that  he  will  help  us  to  make  our 
escape? 

Ard:    It  is  likely  he  made  a  guess  I  had  some 


172  The  Deliverer 

notion  of  the  sort  in  my  mind.  He  was  bidding  me 
go  quiet  and  easy,  and  the  King  would  be  apt  to 
come  around,  and  to  let  us  go  free  in  the 
heel. 

Malachi:  I  would  have  no  trade  with  him 
or  the  like  of  him.  The  Egyptians,  you  never 
can  get  at  the  root  of  them. 

Ard:  I,  now,  to  draw  up  a  petition,  he  was 
saying 

Malachi:  You  won't  get  the  breadth  of  the 
black  of  your  nail  that  way.  They  will  give 
us  what  we  will  take  ourselves,  that  is  what 
they  will  do. 

Ard:  There  might  be  some  of  themselves 
would  speak  for  us  to  the  over-Government. 

Malachi:  Ah,  what  way  would  we  wrench  it 
out  of  the  Government?  To  say  that  we  will 
is  only  vanity! 

Ard:  It  is  what  the  priest  was  saying,  the 
lad  is  proud  and  he  is  giddy.  He  is  no  way 
religious,  he  was  saying,  on  the  one  or  the  other 
side. 

Malachi }s  Wife:  It  would  be  a  pity  surely  if 
he  would  not  be  stiff  in  his  religion. 

Ard:  He  to  have  broke  out  of  their  creed, 
and  not  to  have  joined  in  our  own,  he  would  not 
be  a  fitting  leader  for  ourselves.  According  to 
what  I  am  told,  he's  a  real  regular  Pagan. 

Ard's  Wife:      I  would  be  sorry  to  think  he 


The  Deliverer  173 

would  be  ignorant  and  not  able  to  say  off  the 
Catechism. 

Malachi:  Whatever  he  might  be,  we  would 
be  better  off  with  him  than  with  them  we 
are  under  at  this  time. 

Ard:  It's  hard  know.  Some  are  terrible 
wicked,  but  some  are  fair  enough. 

Malachi:  I  would  make  no  complaint,  getting 
bad  treatment  from  a  person  would  be  natural, 
and  of  our  own  tribe,  besides  the  foreign  troop. 
It  is  going  trafficking  with  the  Egyptians  has 
you  sapped  and  destroyed. 

Malachi1  s  Wife:  A  priest  of  the  Egyptians  to 
be  mistrustful  of  him,  it  is  likely  our  own 
priests  would  not  wish  us  to  have  dealings 
with  them. 

Ard 's  Wife:    You  may  be  certain  of  that. 

Malachi:  So  you  may  be  too.  Hit  one  and 
you  hit  all.  That 's  the  way  with  clergy  rule. 

Ard:  He  to  be  picking  knowledge  out  of 
ourselves,  he  might  maybe  get  through  all 
the  dangers  and  into  the  good  country.  It  is 
himself  would  take  the  credit  then,  and  be  maybe 
craving  to  make  our  laws. 

Malachi:  I  was  thinking  before  this  it  was 
jealousy  rose  up  in  your  head,  and  that  gave 
you  a  spleen  against  him. 

Ard's  Wife:  Look  at  him!  Is  it  himself  at  all 
is  in  it? 


174  The  Deliverer 

(King's  Nurseling  walks  across  at  back. 
He  is  wearing  poor  clothes  like  their 
own.) 

Malachi's  Wife:  Take  care  has  he  the  evil  eye 
put  upon  us.  He  gave  us  no  blessing  as  he 
passed. 

ArcTs  Wife:  He  is  no  great  gaff,  and  not  hav- 
ing the  grand  clothes  that  he  had,  and  the 
top-knot  and  the  fringes. 

Malachi's  Wife:  He  has  put  on  poor  clothes 
like  our  own  for  a  mockery. 

Dan's  Wife:  Take  care  might  it  be  spying  on 
us  he  is  come. 

Ard's  Wife:  To  come  as  a  spy  and  an  informer, 
that  is  a  foul  thing  to  do. 

Malachi's  Wife:  I  am  a  very  bad  lover  of 
deceit  and  of  treachery. 

Dan's  Wife:  It  was  a  queer  story  his  mother 
to  go  cast  him  out  of  her  hand,  and  leave  him 
to  be  reared  by  strangers. 

Ard's  Wife:  Ah,  how  do  we  know  was  she  wed 
at  all  at  that  time? 

Malachi's  Wife:  That  he  may  never  come  back 
alive  or  dead!  I  never  will  give  in  to  a  Pagan. 
I  have  promised  God  and  the  priest. 

Malachi:  Is  it  going  against  him  ye  are, 
and  turning  from  praising  to  dispraising  and 
abuse? 

Malachi' s  Wife:     Why  would  you  go  taking  his 


The  Deliverer  175 

side,  and  the  whole  of  the  rest  of  us  being  against 
him? 

Malachi:  I  was  acquainted  with  his  grand- 
father. It  is  a  bad  day  I  would  see  him  wanting 
a  friend. 

Malachi 's  Wife:  You  to  be  peaceable  to  this 
frog  of  the  ditches,  I  will  not  be  peaceable  to 
yourself. 

Malachi:  I  tell  you  there  is  no  other  one 
can  bring  us  out  of  this. 

Ard:    Take  care  but  there  might  be. 

Malachi:    There  will  not  be  any  other  one. 

Ard:  I  would  not  be  sure  of  that.  I  never 
heard  that  lad  to  have  said  two  words  upon 
a  platform. 

Malachi:  It  is  easy  be  handy  in  talk,  and  be 
supple.  Is  it  that  you  yourself  is  thinking  to 
free  us? 

Ard:  The  ships  are  ready.  We  have  the 
password.  Anyone  could  do  the  job  now. 

Dan:  I  'm  as  great  a  story  as  yourself  any 
day.  If  any  one  of  us  is  to  take  the  lead,  I  have 
a  mind  to  take  it  myself. 

Ard:  I  won't  give  in  to  that,  or  to  you  put- 
ting out  challenges  of  the  sort. 

Malachi:  Let  you  leave  it  to  the  man  at  the 
plough  to  drive  the  furrow  to  the  end. 

Dan:  What  I  will  not  do  is  give  Ard 
scope  to  be  tricking,  the  way  he  will  put  him- 


176  The  Deliverer 

self  on  top.  It  's  a  mean  thing  to  trick. 
I  never  would  be  trickish  if  I  was  to  die  with 
hunger. 

Ard:  Is  it  a  man  of  your  sort  any  person 
would  take  commands  from? 

Dan:  You  to  be  arguing  like  a  conse- 
quential !  A  chap  that  could  n't  put  a  jackdaw 
on  a  farm  of  land ! 

Ard:  I  'm  able  to  put  a  name  on  you,  that 
you  are  not  more  like  doing  a  good  deed  than 
a  deed  of  treachery. 

Malachi:  Stop  your  chat!  The  noise  you 
are  making  would  bring  upon  us  the  whole 
army  of  police. 

Dan:  Why  would  I  stop?  He  'd  eat  the 
head  off  me,  and  I  'm  not  to  eat  him! 

Ard:  The  latter  end  of  the  world  to  be  to- 
morrow, I  'd  tell  him  he  is  not  fit  so  much 
as  to  put  fetters  on  a  sheep! 

Dan:  Have  a  care  now,  or  I  '11  whitewash  the 
steps  with  your  bones! 

Ard:  I  don't  wish  you  any  harm,  but  God 
is  unjust  if  you  die  a  natural  death! 

Dan:    The    curse   of   my  heart  on  you! 

Ard:    A  short  course  to  you! 

Dan:    You  cur,  you  disgrace,  you! 

Ard:  Keep  your  tongue  off  me,  you  rags! 
That  bad  luck  may  follow  you!  You  that 
are  a  rogue  since  the  first  day  you  were  born! 


The  Deliverer  177 

Malachi:     (Seizing     Dan.)     Put    the    malice 
out  of  your  heart  or  we  are  all  destroyed ! 

Dan:    Leave  me  alone!     I   am   well   able  to 
best  him! 

Ard:    You  may  set   your  coffin  making,   for 
I  '11  beat  you  to  the  ground ! 

Dan:    It    was    n't     to-day    or    yesterday    I 
learned  to  know  your  tricks! 

Dan's  Wife:     Leave  go  of  one  another ! 

Ard:     I  will  not  till  I  squeeze  the  breath  out 
of  him ! 

Ard's  Wife:    Leave  your  hold! 

Malachi's  Wife:     Let  some  person  drag  them 
asunder! 

Dan's  Wife:     They  to  get  in  an  argument,  it 
is  hard  part  them  from  one  another! 

Ard's  Wife:     Oh,  they  are  in  flows  of  blood! 

Dan:     I  Ve  a  grip  of  you  now,  you  mean  little 
tinker ! 

Ard:     I  '11    knock    the    head    of    you,     you 
shameful  pauper ! 

Dan:    Wait  till  I  '11  hit  him  a  kick! 

A  rd:    You  common  rascal ! 

Dan:    You  rap!    You  vagabone! 

All:      Oh,   let   you   stop!       They  '11  kill   one 
another ! 

(King's  Nurseling  comes  out,   parts   them 
quickly,  throws  down  Ard,  holds  Dan.) 

King's  Nurseling:    Are    you  fools?    Damning 

VOL.  II— 13 


i?8  The  Deliverer 

and  blasting  and  cursing  and  shouting  and 
beating  one  another!  You  will  bring  out  the 
whole  of  the  palace! 

Ard:  I  done  nothing.  He  drew  a  blow  at 
me.  I  gave  him  but  one  box. 

Dan:  He  did,  and  a  pelt  of  a  stone  and  a 
slap  of  the  left  hand  on  the  jaw. 

King's  Nurseling:  You  are  on  the  brink  of 
your  escape!  Keep  your  uproar  till  you  are 
out  of  this!  (Shoves  down  Ard  who  tries  to  rise.) 

Ard:  Leave  knocking  me.  Have  you  a  mind 
to  make  an  end  of  me  with  a  blow  of  a  hurl 
the  same  as  the  Nutcracker  a  while  ago? 

Ard's  Wife:  Let  you  leave  meddling  with  my 
man! 

Dan's  Wife:  Take  off  your  hand!  It  is  not 
in  a  bunch  of  rushes  my  own  man  was  reared! 

Malachi's  Wife:  Take  care  will  he  call  to  the 
soldiers  for  to  have  us  all  destroyed. 

Ard's  Wife:  We  are  in  great  danger  that  he  will. 
It  would  be  right  gag  his  mouth. 

Dan's  Wife:    It  's  best   make  an  end  of  him. 

Ard's  Wife:  It  would  be  no  harm  to  quiet  him, 
giving  him  a  prod  of  a  knife. 

Malachi's  Wife:  A  real  idolater  he  is.  That 
is  what  the  King's  priest  said. 

Malachi:  Is  it  at  the  bidding  of  the  Egyptians 
you  will  give  up  the  man  of  your  own  race? 

Ard:      He  will  betray  us  to  the  King's  men. 


The  Deliverer  179 

King's  Nurseling:  I  have  broken  with  that 
troop  altogether. 

Ard:  You  will  fail  us  yet,  and  the  King  to 
speak  out  stiff  to  you ! 

King's  Nurseling:  I  tell  you  he  to  hinder  us, 
I  will  redden  that  tide  beyond,  and  twist  a  bit 
of  crape  on  every  house-door  in  Egypt. 

Malachi:  That  is  right,  that  is  right!  That  is 
the  clean  drop  stirring  in  him! 

Dan's  Wife:     It  is  misleading  us  he  is. 

Malachi 's  Wife:  A  man  to  do  that  it  would 
disgust  you. 

Ard's  Wife:    That  my  curse  may  follow  him! 

Dan's  Wife:  That  his  path  may  be  as  slippery 
as  the  ditch  where  he  was  born,  if  he  did  kill  the 
King's  steward. 

Malachi' s  Wife:    A  long  trembling  to  you ! 

Malachi:  They  are  set  on  mischief.  The  very 
most  people  he  did  good  to. 

King's  Nurseling:  If  you  all  turn  against  me, 
I  will  fight  on  with  my  back  to  the  wall. 

Ard:    We  will  give  no  place  to  spies! 

Dan:  We  will  leave  you  no  time  to  be  an 
informer! 

Malachi:  Ye  are  doing  a  great  wrong !  Give 
him  a  show  and  a  hearing! 

Ard:    It 's  best  make  an  end  of  him! 

Dan:    He  can  lodge  no  complaint  that  time ! 

Malachi:     Ye    are  mad,   raging  mad! 


i8o  The  Deliverer 

(Ard   pushes   King's   Nurseling   down   on 

step.) 

Malachi's  Wife:  (Throwing  a  stone.)  Frog 
spawn ! 

Ard's  Wife:     (Throwing  a  stone.)    Foundling! 
Dan's  Wife:     (Throwing  a  stone.)     By  child! 
Ard's  Wife:     (Throwing  a  stone.)     Drownded 
whelp ! 

(All    throw    stones.       King's     Nurseling 

sinks  back.) 

Officer:  (Appearing  from  palace,  striking 
gong.)  Where  is  the  King's  Nurseling! 

(All  shrink  back  leaving  King's  Nurseling 

on  step.) 

Officer:  (Loud.)  The  pipes  and  the  flutes  are 
ready !  The  boiled  is  ready  and  the  roast !  (Sees 
King's  Nurseling.)  Rise  up,  you  drowsy  vaga- 
bone,  and  say  did  you  see  the  King's  Nurseling  in 
any  place? 

King's  Nurseling:    The  King's  Nurseling? 
Officer:      The  supper  ready  and  no  leave  to 
begin  till  he  will  come  that  is  at  the  head  of  all. 
(Strikes  gong.)      I  wish  I  never  lost  sight  of  him. 
King's  Nurseling:    He  will  not  go  back  to  the 
supper.      He  is  facing  towards  the  wilderness  of 
the  marsh. 

Officer:  It  is  blind  drunk  you  are  and  little 
you  know  about  him. 

(Kicks  King's  Nurseling  and  goes   away 


The  Deliverer  181 

sounding  gong.  King's  Nurseling's 
head  droops.  He  sinks  back  on  the 
ground.  The  others  come  back 
cautiously.) 

Ard:  There  is  no  one  to  take  notice  of  us. 
We  can  make  our  escape  to  the  ships. 

Dan:  (Looking  at  King's  Nurseling.)  There 
is  no  stir  in  him,  I  thought  the  life  would 
not  have  left  him  so  quick. 

Ard:    Leave  him  there  where  he  is. 
Dan:      Take  care  would  they  find  him   and 
know   his  features,  and   follow  after  us   to  get 
revenge  for  his  death. 

(A  loud  mewing  and  screaming  heard.) 
Dan's  Wife:    What  is  that  screeching? 
Malachi's  Wife:     It  is  the  King's  cats  calling 
for  their  food. 

Ard:    Shove  him  over  the  steps  to  them. 
Malachi:    Will  you  throw  him  to  the  King's 
cats? 

Dan's  Wife:  A  good  thought.  No  one  will 
recognise  him.  They  '11  have  the  face  ate  off  him 
ere  morning. 

Ard's  Wife:    Throw  him  to  the  King's  cats! 

(They  screech  again.     Their  shadow  is  seen 

on  steps.    King's  Nurseling  is  dragged 

into  darkness.   A  louder  screech  heard.) 

Officer:     (Coming  back.)     What  is  this  uproar 

of  cats?    Or  is  it  the  yelping  of  yourselves  that 


182  The  Deliverer 

are  curs.  It  is  the  whole  of  this  troop  that  is 
drunk  and  howling.  (Takes  up  whip  and  shakes 
it.)  Stop  your  ugly  noise! 

(A  soldier  appears.) 

Officer:  Send  out  a  squad  of  the  guard  to 
lodge  these  bawling  blackguards  in  the  black 
hole..  Here,  put  on  the  handcuffs.  (Soldier  comes 
and  handcuffs  them  leaving  them  crouching  on  the 
steps.) 

Officer:  Sound  out  a  loud  call.  I  did  n't  find 
him  yet. 

(He  goes  up  to  door.    A  loud  blast  of  trumpets 
is  heard.) 

Malachi:  1  'm  on  the  seventy  since  last  July. 
It  is  old  bones  I  will  leave  in  the  gaol. 

Ard:  We  were  never  destroyed  out  and  out 
till  now.  It  is  in  bad  case  we  are  this  time 
surely. 

Dan:  It  is  you  yourself  was  the  first  to 
overthrow  and  to  banish  him. 

Malachi:  (Laughing  to  himself.)  They  were 
said  to  give  him  learning  and  it  is  bad  learning 
they  gave  him.  That  young  man  to  have  read 
history  he  would  not  have  come  to  our  help. 

Malachi' s  Wife:  Well,  the  story  is  done  now, 
and  let  you  leave  it  to  God. 

Malachi:  It  is  sorrow  you  will  Sieep  with 
from  this  out.  You  will  not  find  the  like  of  him 
from  the  rising  to  the  setting  sun. 


The  Deliverer  183 

Dan's  Wife:  Look!  He  is  living  yet.  He  is 
passing! 

(King's  Nurseling  passes  slowly  at  foot  of 
steps  towards  right.  His  clothes  are  torn 
and  blood-stained  and  he  walks  with 
difficulty.) 

Dan:  It  is  but  his  ghost.  He  is  vanished  from 
us. 

Dan's  Wife:  I  wish  I  did  n't  turn  against  him. 
I  am  thinking  he  might  be  an  angel. 

Dan:  (To  Malachi.)  Will  he  ever  come  back 
to  us? 

Malachi:  I  won't  tell  you  what  I  don't  know. 
Wandering,  wandering  I  see,  through  a  score  and 
through  two  score  years.  Boggy  places  will 
be  in  it  and  stony  places  and  splashes — and  no 
man  will  see  the  body  is  put  in  the  grave.  A 
strange  thing  to  get  the  goal,  and  the  lad  of 
the  goal  being  dead.  (Another  screech  of  the 
cats.  He  laughs.)  I  would  n't  wonder  at  all  he  to 
bring  back  cross  money  to  shoot  the  cats.  He 
will  get  satisfaction  on  the  cats. 

Curtain 


MUSIC  FOR  THE 

SONGS  IN  THE  PLAYS 

NOTES  AND  CASTS 


185 


MUSIC  FOR  THE  CANAVANS 


fa 


£ 


s       J 


Ye      trai  -  tors      all     that     do       de  -  vise      To 


K£B  —  i 

^  01  

S=?= 

SE 

-  jj 

1  —  ijjfr- 

3  ,P      «!       *  1 

plague  our    Par  -  a  -   gon,    And     in    your  hearts   in 


treach'rous  wish    Let  such  vain  thoughts  run  on.     Con  - 


sid    -     er     what     your      end       will     be        Be   - 


fore  you          far    -   ther      go;. 


The 


Crown     of        Li   -  lies       joy   -   ful   -    ly          Will 


hang        you 


row! 


187 


MUSIC  FOR  THE  WHITE  COCKADE 


m 


O     well  -  tuned  harp      of      sil  -  ver   strings,  O 
strong  green  oak,  O    shining  Mars, Our  heart's  desire    Our 

L      p     p    .  tHJ>  ft  r>fr     ,    , 

=  -  =Pir  r  r= 

gra-  cious  King     Shin  •  ing     can  -  die     of     the  war. 


188 


NOTES 
THE  CANAVANS 

THIS  play  is  founded  more  directly  upon  folklore 
and  less  upon  written  history  than  the  others,  so  far 
as  the  tradition  of  the  Virgin  Queen  goes  in  Ireland. 
But  the  epithets  given  her  by  her  courtiers  are  taken 
from  the  writings  of  the  time.  The  desire  possessing 
Peter  Canavan  to  be  on  the  safe  side,  on  the  side  of  the 
strongest,  is  not  bounded  by  any  century  or  kept 
within  the  borders  of  any  country,  though  it  jumps 
to  light  more  aggressively  in  one  which,  like  Ire- 
land, has  been  tilted  between  two  loyalties  through 
so  many  generations.  The  play  seems  (to  me  now) 
somewhat  remote,  inexplicable,  as  if  written  less 
by  logical  plan  than  in  one  of  those  moments  of 
light-heartedness  that  comes,  as  I  think,  as  an 
inheritance  from  my  French  great-grandmother, 
Frances  Aigoin;  a  moment  of  that  "sudden  Glory, 
the  Passion  which  maketh  those  Grimaces  called 
Laughter."  It  plays  merrily,  and  there  are  some  who 
like  it  best  of  my  comedies. 

As  to  traditions  of  the  Tudors,  this  is  what  I  am 
told  in  Kil tartan  : 

"Henry  the  Eighth  was  crying  and  roaring  and 
leaping  out  of  the  bed  for  three  days  and  nights  before 

189 


190  Notes 

his  death.  And  he  died  cursing  his  children,  and  he 
that  had  eight  millions  when  he  came  to  the  throne, 
coining  leather  money  at  the  end. 

"Queen  Elizabeth  was  awful.  Beyond  everything 
she  was.  When  she  came  to  the  turn  she  dyed  her 
hair  red,  and  whatever  man  she  had  to  do  with,  she 
sent  him  to  the  block  in  the  morning,  that  he  would 
be  able  to  tell  nothing.  She  had  an  awful  temper. 
She  would  throw  a  knife  from  the  table  at  the  waiting 
ladies,  and  if  anything  vexed  her  she  would  maybe 
work  upon  the  floor.  A  thousand  dresses  she  left 
after  her.  Very  superstitious  she  was.  Sure  after 
her  death  they  found  a  card,  the  ace  of  hearts,  nailed 
to  her  chair  under  the  seat.  She  thought  she  would 
never  die  while  she  had  it  there.  And  she  bought  a 
bracelet  from  an  old  woman  out  in  Wales  that  was  over 
a  hundred  years.  It  was  superstition  made  her  do  that, 
and  they  found  it  after  her  death,  tied  about  her  neck. 

"It  was  a  town  called  Calais  brought  her  to  her 
death,  and  she  lay  chained  on  the  floor  three  days 
and  three  nights.  The  Archbishop  was  trying  to 
urge  her  to  eat,  but  she  said :  '  You  would  not  ask  me 
to  do  it  if  you  knew  the  way  I  am/  for  nobody  could 
see  the  chains.  After  her  death  they  waked  her  for 
six  days  in  Whitehall,  and  there  were  six  ladies 
sitting  beside  the  body  every  night.  Three  coffins 
were  about  it,  the  one  nearest  the  body  of  lead,  and 
then  a  wooden  one,  and  a  leaden  one  on  the  outside. 
And  every  night  there  came  from  them  a  great 
bellow.  And  the  last  night  there  came  a  bellow 
that  broke  the  three  coffins  open,  and  tore  the  velvet, 


Notes  191 

and  there  came  out  a  stench  that  killed  the  most 
of  the  ladies  and  a  million  of  the  people  of  London 
with  the  plague.  Queen  Victoria  was  more  hon- 
ourable than  that.  It  would  be  hard  to  beat  Queen 
Elizabeth." 

THE  WHITE  COCKADE 

Some  time  ago  I  was  looking  through  some  poems 
taken  down  in  Irish  from  the  country  people,  and  a 
line  in  one  of  them  seemed  strange  to  me  "Prebaim 
mo  chroidhe  le  mo  Stuart  glegeal" — "My  heart  leaps 
up  with  my  bright  Stuart";  for  I  had  not  heard  any 
songs  of  this  sort  in  Galway  and  I  remembered  that 
our  Connacht  Raftery,  whose  poems  are  still  teaching 
history,  dealt  very  shortly  with  the  Royal  Stuarts. 
"James,"  he  says,  "he  was  the  worst  man  for  habits, 
he  laid  chains  on  our  bogs  and  mountains.  The 
father  was  n't  worse  than  the  son  Charles,  that  left 
sharp  scourges  on  Ireland.  When  God  and  the  people 
thought  it  time  the  story  to  be  done,  he  lost  his  head. 
The  next  James — sharp  blame  to  him — gave  his 
daughter  to  William  as  woman  and  wife;  made  the 
Irish  English  and  the  English  Irish,  like  wheat  and 
oats  in  the  month  of  harvest.  And  it  was  at  Aughrim 
on  a  Monday  many  a  son  of  Ireland  found  sorrow 
without  speaking  of  all  that  died." 

So  I  went  to  ask  some  of  the  wise  old  neighbours 
who  sit  in  wide  chimney  nooks  by  turf  fires,  and 
to  whom  I  go  to  look  for  knowledge  of  many  things, 
if  they  knew  of  any  songs  in  praise  of  the  Stuarts. 


192  Notes 

But  they  were  scornful.  "No  indeed/'  one  said, 
"there  are  no  songs  about  them  and  no  praises  in  the 
West,  whatever  there  may  be  in  the  South.  Why 
would  there,  and  they  running  away  and  leaving  the 
country  the  way  they  did?  And  what  good  did 
they  ever  do  it?  James  the  Second  was  a  cow- 
ard. Why  did  n't  he  go  into  the  thick  of  the 
battle  like  the  Prince  of  Orange?  He  stopped  on  a 
hill  three  miles  away,  and  rode  off  to  Dublin,  bringing 
the  best  of  his  troops  with  him.  There  was  a  lady 
walking  in  the  street  at  Dublin  when  he  got  there, 
and  he  told  her  the  battle  was  lost,  and  she  said: 
*  Faith  you  made  good  haste;  you  made  no  delay  on 
the  road.'  So  he  said  no  more  after  that.  The 
people  liked  James  well  enough  before  he  ran;  they 
did  n't  like  him  after  that." 

And  another  said:  "Seumas  Salach,  Dirty  James, 
it  is  he  brought  all  down.  At  the  time  of  the  battle 
there  was  one  of  his  men  said, '  I  have  my  eye  cocked, 
and  all  the  nations  will  be  done  away  with,'  and 
he  pointing  his  cannon.  'Oh!'  said  James,  'Don't 
make  a  widow  of  my  daughter.'  If  he  did  n't  say 
that,  the  English  would  have  been  beat.  It  was  a 
very  poor  thing  for  him  to  do." 

And  one  who  lives  on  the  border  of  Munster  said: 
"I  used  to  hear  them  singing  'The  White  Cockade' 
through  the  country;  King  James  was  beaten  and 
all  his  well-wishers;  my  grief,  my  boy  that  went  with 
them!  But  I  don't  think  the  people  had  ever  much 
opinion  of  the  Stuarts,  but  in  those  days  they  were 
all  prone  to  versify."  And  another  old  man  said: 


Notes  193 

"When  I  was  a  young  chap  knocking  about  in  Con- 
nemara,  I  often  heard  songs  about  the  Stuarts,  and 
talk  of  them  and  of  the  blackbird  coming  over  the 
water.  But  they  found  it  hard  to  get  over  James 
making  off  after  the  battle  of  the  Boyne."  And 
when  I  looked  through  the  lately  gathered  bundle  of 
songs  again,  and  through  some  old  collections  of 
favourite  songs  in  Irish,  I  found  they  almost 
all  belonged  to  Munster.  And  if  they  are  still  sung 
there,  it  is  not,  as  I  think,  for  the  sake  of  the  Kings, 
but  for  the  sake  of  the  poets  who  wrote  them.  And 
in  these  songs  of  sorrow  for  Ireland  and  the  indictment 
of  England,  the  Stuart  himself  is  often  forgotten,  or 
when  he  appears,  he  is  but  a  faint  and  unreal  image; 
a  saint  by  whose  name  a  heavy  oath  is  sworn. 

It  is  different  with  Patrick  Sarsfield,  Earl  of 
Lucan,  a  "great  general  that  killed  thousands  of  the 
English";  the  brave,  handsome,  fighting  man,  the 
descendant  of  Conall  Cearnach,  the  man  who, 
after  the  Boyne,  offered  to  "change  Kings  and  fight 
the  battle  again."  The  songs  about  him  are  personal 
enough.  Here  is  one  I  have  put  into  English: 

"O  Patrick  Sarsfield,  health  be  to  you,  since  you 
went  to  France  and  your  camps  were  loosened; 
making  your  sighs  along  with  the  King,  and  you  left 
poor  Ireland  and  the  Gael  defeated — Och  Ochone! 

"  O  Patrick  Sarsfield,  it  is  a  man  with  God  you  are, 
and  blessed  is  the  earth  you  ever  walked  on.  The 
blessing  of  the  bright  sun  and  the  moon  upon  you 
since  you  took  the  day  from  the  hands  of  King  William 
—Och  Ochone! 


194  Notes 

"0  Patrick  Sarsfield,  the  prayer  of  every  person 
with  you;  my  own  prayer  and  the  prayer  of  the  Son 
of  Mary  with  you,  since  you  took  the  narrow  ford 
going  through  Biorra,  and  since  in  Cuilenn  O'Cuanac 
you  won  Limerick — Och  Ochone! 

"They  put  the  first  breaking  on  us  at  the  Bridge 
of  the  Boyne;  the  second  breaking  at  the  Bridge  of 
Slaney;  the  third  breaking  in  Aughrim  of  O'Kelly; 
and  O  sweet  Ireland,  my  five  hundred  healths  to  you 
—Och  Ochone! 

"  O'Kelly  has  manuring  for  his  land,  that  is  not  sand 
or  dung,  but  ready  soldiers  doing  bravery  with  pikes, 
that  were  left  in  Aughrim  stretched  in  ridges — Och, 
Ochone ! 

"Who  is  that  beyond  on  the  hill  Beinn  Edar? 
I,  a  poor  soldier  with  King  James.  I  was  last  year 
in  arms  and  in  dress,  but  this  year  I  am  asking 
alms— Och,  Ochone!'1 

As  to  the  poor  Lady,  she  was  not  the  only  one  to 
wander  miserably,  having  spent  all  for  the  Stuarts. 

The  attempted  escape  of  King  James  in  the  barrel 
had  already  been  used  by  Dr.  Hyde  in  a  little  play 
written  in  Irish.  In  these  days,  when  so  much  of 
the  printed  history  we  were  taught  as  children  is 
being  cast  out  by  scholars,  we  must  refill  the  vessel  by 
calling  in  tradition,  or  if  need  be  our  own  imaginings. 
When  my  White  Cockade  was  first  produced  I  was 
pleased  to  hear  that  J.  M.  Synge  had  said  my  method 
had  made  the  writing  of  historical  drama  again 
possible. 


Notes  195 

THE  DELIVERER 

I  used  to  say  in  defence  of  friends  of  mine,  who  were 
attacked  for  wild  acts,  and  Mr.  Yeats  borrowed  my 
saying,  that  Moses  was  of  no  use  to  his  people  until 
he  had  killed  an  Egyptian.  Then  I  began  to  say  in 
relation  to  a ' '  gran  rifiuto ' '  of  later  days  that  some  who 
had  turned  upon  their  leader  would  have  their  forty 
years  of  walking  the  sand.  More  lately  in  Kiltartan, 
I  was  told  by  one  who  had  been  present  at  the  last 
meeting  held  by  that  deserted  leader,  how  those  who 
had  crowded  to  him  before  had  left  him  by  order, 
and  how  fiery  his  words  were  and  how  white  was  his 
face.  And,  it  was  said  "The  ancient  Jews  turned 
against  Moses  in  the  same  way." 

I  was  at  a  Feis,  a  Festival,  at  Spiddal  on  Galway  Bay 
in  honour  of  the  Irish  language  about  ten  years  ago, 
and  after  it  I  wrote: 

"In  the  evening  there  were  people  waiting  round 
the  door  to  hear  the  songs  and  the  pipes  again. 
An  old  man  among  them  was  speaking  with  many 
gestures,  his  voice  rising,  and  a  crowd  gathering  about 
him.  'Tha  se  beo,  tha  se  beo' — 'he  is  living,  he  is 
living/  I  heard  him  say  over  and  over  again.  I 
asked  what  he  was  saying  and  was  told:  *  He  says  that 
Parnell  is  alive  yet/  I  was  pushed  away  from  him 
by  the  crowd  to  where  a  policeman  was  looking  on. 
*  He  says  that  Parnell  is  alive  still,'  I  said.  '  There  are 
many  say  that/  he  answered.  'And  after  all  no 
one  ever  saw  the  body  that  was  buried.' " 

I  remember  a  visit  of  M.  Paul  Bourget  to  Coole 


196 


Notes 


and  his  being  so  excited  and  moved  by  the  tragic 
wasted  face  of  one  of  the  last  photographs  of  Mr. 
Parnell,  that  he  could  not  leave  it  but  carried  it 
about  the  house.  I  had  already  written  on  the  back 
of  that  portrait  this  verse  from  an  old  ballad : 

Oh,  I  have  dreamed  a  dreary  dream 
Beyond  the  isle  of  Skye, 
I  saw  a  dead  man  win  a  fight 
And  I  think  that  man  was  I!  • 


Dates  and  casts  of  the  first  production  of  these  plays 
at  the  Abbey  Theatre,  Dublin. 

THE  CANAVANS  was  produced  December  8, 1906,  with 
the  following  cast : 

Peter  Canavan        .                  .  .         W.  G.  FAY 

Antony          ....  J.  A.  O'RouRKE 

Widow  Greely         .         .         .  MAIRE  O'NEILL 

Widow  Deeny         .         .         .  BRIGIT  O'DEMPSEY 

Captain  Headley     .         .         .  ARTHUR  SINCLAIR 

THE  WHITE  COCKADE  was  produced  December  9, 1905, 
with  the  following  cast: 

Matt  Kelleher         .         .         .         .         W.  G.  FAY 
Owen  Kelleher  F.  WALKER 

King  James  .         .         .         ARTHUR  SINCLAIR 

Sarsfield F.  J.  FAY 

Carter  ......  J.  DUNNE 

Mrs.  Kelleher         .         .         .         .    SARA  ALLGOOD 

Old  Lady       .  MAIRE  NI  SHIUBLAIGH 

Williamite  Soldier          .         .          AMBROSE  POWER 

Another U.  WRIGHT 

Another J.  MAGEE 

French  Sailor 

Another         .... 

197 


198 


Notes 


THE  DELIVERER  was  produced  January  12,  1911,  with 
the  following  cast : 


Ard  . 
Malachi 
Dan  . 

King's  Nurseling 
Steward 
Officer  . 
Ard'sWife     . 
Malachi 's  Wife 
Dan's  Wife    . 


FRED  O' DONOVAN 

J.  A.  O'ROURKE 

ARTHUR  SINCLAIR 

J.  M.  KERRIGAN 

SYDNEY  J.  MORGAN 

B.  MACNAMARA 

MAIRE  NI  SHIUBLAIGH 

SARA  ALLGOOD 

MAIRE  O'NEILL 


PR 

4728 

G5A19 

1912 

ser.2 

cop.  2 


Gregory,  Isabella  Augusta 
(Persse)  Lady 

Irish  folk-history  plays 


For  use  in 

the  Library 

ONLY 


PLEASE  DO  NOT  REMOVE 
CARDS  OR  SLIPS  FROM  THIS  POCKET 


UNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO  LIBRARY