Collected Plays and Teleplays (Irish Literature) by Flann O’Brien Read Free Book Online Page A

hear! Hear, hear!
    KELLY: ( Accepting this as genuine and waxing even more rhetorical. ) What shall I say of those who are charged before God with the rule and government of the English nation, not to mention its dominions, dependencies, mandates and colonies beyond the seas? What shall I say of the corrupt, misguided, obtuse and venal time-servers, who have brought, through a travesty of justice and government, shame and dishonour on the British flag? With what scornful word or phrase shall I stigmatise at the bar of history the interventions of successive British Governments in the affairs of my own country—IRELAND, the lamp of civilisation at a time when Europe sat in darkness, cradle of the faith and home of the martyrs. With what pitiless and inexorable terminology will I lash and lash again these debased minions who have presumed to tamper with our historic race, to drive millions of our kith and kin in coffin-ships across the seven seas to dwell in an alien clime with the naked savage, who have destroyed our industries and our crafts and our right to develop our national resources, who have not hesitated to violate the sacred tabernacle of our nation to steal therefrom, defile and destroy our melodious and kingly language—THE IRISH LANGUAGE—our sole badge of nationhood, our only historic link with the giants of our national past—Niall of the Nine Hostages, who penetrated to the Alps in his efforts to spread the Gospel, Kind Cormac of Cashel, Confessor, Saint and lawgiver, heroic St. Laurence O’Toole who is the Patron Saint of Ireland’s greatest city, and Patrick Sarsfield, who rode by night to destroy, no matter at what risk to himself, the hated foreigner’s powder-train at Ballyneety! With what appalling and frightening curse, Captain Shaw, will I invoke the righteous anger of the Almighty against these wicked men who live in gilded palaces in England, cradled in luxury and licentious extravagance, knowing nothing and caring nothing for either the English masses, the historic and indefeasible Irish nation, the naked Negro in distant and distressed India or the New Zealand pigmy on his native shore? With what stern word will I invoke the righteous anger of Almighty God upon their heads, Captain Shaw?
    TOWN CLERK: Glory be to God!
    SHAW: ( Very uneasy. ) Really, old man, that’s a bit strong, you know. After all, you know, there are some very nice chaps in London. I wish you would meet some of my friends there. Of course, Ireland got a very poor show at one time, there is no getting away from that, the country was mishandled from the start. No country in the world would be more loyal if they got a good show. The English and the Irish should get together, you know, old man, because they’re nice people—damn nice people.
    ( Pause. KELLY walks over and shakes the astonished SHAW by the hand. )
    KELLY: And nobly said, Captain, I admire a man who will fight his corner. I respect a gallant foe. Please do not think that I am suggesting that all knavery, corruption and governmental incompetence is concentrated in the land of England. Alas, poor old Ireland has her own share of it too. In this country, too, Captain, we have the grossest abuses in high places. We have double-dealing, backstairs influences . . . cliques . . . ( he gestures ) . . . bad blood between brothers . . . corrupt and debased ruffians in every quarter working to sell the pass. . . .
    ( He breaks off. MRS. MARGARET CROCKETT has just hurried in from left. She is a coarse, dowdy lady of about 35, somewhat stout and vulgarly dressed. She pauses as she enters, astounded at seeing CAPTAIN SHAW. KELLY stands silent, ignorant of what the position is. )
    MARGARET: ( To SHAW , excitedly. ) What, James? YOU!
    ( She hurries over to shake hands. He rises with well-bred sang-froid and suddenly becomes somewhat stern. )
    SHAW: Hullo, Margaret. How are you?
    MARGARET: Very well, James. How are you?
    ( KELLY begins to come forward. )
    SHAW: Quite fit, thank