ACT III

A week later: The scene is as in previous Acts. The table is near entrance. It is laid for a meal. The time is near sunset. Conn Hourican, Maire Hourican, and James Moynihan are seated at table. Maire Hourican rises. She goes to entrance and remains looking out. Conn and James go on eating.

CONN However it is, I could never play my best in this place. The houses are too scattered, I often think. And it doesn't do for the fiddler to remain too long in the one place. The people get too used to him. Virgil made better songs than any man, but if Virgil was sung in the fairs constant, divil much heed would be given to his songs.

JAMES Now, I often thought of that.

CONN Another thing, James Moynihan, Ribbonism and the Land League ruined the country.

Maire goes out.

JAMES But sure we must be doing something for the Cause.

CONN They were all Fenians here when I came into this country first, over twenty years ago.

He rises and goes into room.

JAMES Well, he's a great man, Conn Hourican. (James rises and goes to fire. Conn comes out of room, carrying a greatcoat) How do you think you'll do at Ardagh?

CONN I think I'll do very well at Ardagh, James.

He leaves coat on settle.

JAMES Everything's ready for the start.

CONN Ay, and it's near time for going. I'm playing very well lately, James. It's the thought of being before people who'll know music. If I was staying in this place any longer, James, I'd put my fiddle in the thatch, and leave it there for the birds to pick holes in.

JAMES But won't you be back here after the Feis at Ardagh?

CONN Well, I will, for a while anyway.

JAMES And would you be going off again after a while?

CONN I'm thinking that when my daughters are settled I'll have the years before me. I was reared in a place south of this, and I'd like to go back there for a while.

JAMES But wouldn't you come back to us?

CONN There's many's the place in Ireland that I never saw, town and countryside. (He takes the greatcoat off settle and puts it on him) Tell me, James Moynihan, is your father satisfied with the settlement that Maire's making for yourself and Anne?

JAMES My father is very well satisfied.

CONN (going towards his room) And so he ought to be, James Moynihan.

Goes into his room.

JAMES My father had always a great liking for Anne. (Anne comes out of the other room. James Moynihan goes to her) May you never think, Anne, that you made the bad choice when you took James Moynihan.

They sit on settle.

ANNE Sure I was never fond of any one but yourself.

JAMES And I never cared for any one after I saw you.

ANNE I used to hear that you were fond of another girl.

JAMES I was fond of the girl that used to be in the newspaper shop in the town.

ANNE And used you to talk with her?

JAMES The elbows were worn out of my coat with leaning on the counter to talk with her. But she married a policeman after that. He was a friend of mine, too. It was me that got him the words and music for "I'll hang my harp on a willow tree"—a song that he was always looking for.

ANNE Did you make any songs about the girl?

JAMES I did not.

ANNE Oh, James, I'm glad of that. I'm glad you made no songs about her.

JAMES Are you content to marry me in the town of Ardagh, after the Feis, as Maire wishes?

ANNE It will be strange to be married in Ardagh, away from the people I know.

JAMES It will be lucky getting married after the Feis.

ANNE James, it's a great trial for a girl to face marriage; but, James, I'm very fond of you.

James kisses her.

JAMES I don't know what to think of them writers who say that the Irish girls haven't the heart for love.

ANNE Is Maire outside?

JAMES She went out.

ANNE It's a wonder that Brian MacConnell isn't here before this.

Anne rises. Maire comes in.

ANNE Is there no one coming here?

MAIRE There is no one on the road.

ANNE Brian MacConnell is late in coming.

Maire comes up to the fire. Anne stands with her. James goes to entrance, and remains looking out.

MAIRE I saw Brian yesterday.

ANNE And did you tell him that you were going at the sunset?

MAIRE I told him we were going in the evening.

ANNE Maybe you were distant with Brian?

MAIRE He looked like a man that something had happened to. Connor Gilpatrick came up, and then I went away.

Conn Hourican comes out of room. He has left the greatcoat in room. He brings the fiddle with him. Maire and Anne go to the settle. They talk.

JAMES (to Conn) What would you think of a row of trees planted before the door?

Conn leaves fiddle on dresser, and comes to him.

CONN They might be very becoming, James.

JAMES My father was saying that the front looked very bare.

CONN A row of trees, when they'd grow, would make a great difference.

JAMES That's what my father was saying.

They talk, Conn leaning on the half-door.

ANNE I'm glad to be here. It would be very strange for me to be married, and in another house.

MAIRE I was thinking, Anne, that father and myself ought to stay a while on the road, till you and James get settled here.

ANNE Listen, Maire. James says that he'll be giving this place back to you after a while. With this start he'll be able to get a house and land near his father's place. He has fine schemes for making this place prosperous. James, come here. (James turns from door) Come here, James, and talk with Maire.

James comes to girls, leaving Conn looking out. Maire rises.

JAMES I'll make a path down to the road, and, with a row of trees before the door, the place will be well worth looking at.

MAIRE We won't know the place after a while.

JAMES We can never forget, Maire, that it is to you that we owe the place and the start in life.

MAIRE I never looked on the place as my own.

JAMES And now that the land is in Anne's name, my father will be glad to stock the place.

MAIRE You have all our will of the place. Father, speak to James and tell him that he has your will of the place.

CONN (turning from door) Indeed you have, James, and we're overglad to have Anne settled with a steady boy.

JAMES Well, long life to you, Conn; and may the man of art never want fame nor a friend.

CONN (going to dresser) Drink to that, James.

He takes up a bottle and fills two glasses.

JAMES I never touch anything, Conn; but if Anne won't think bad of me, I'll drink to your prosperity.

ANNE I won't be watching you at all. (She goes to door. To Maire) I'm going down the road, and if there's any one coming here, I'll let you know.

Anne goes out. James takes the glass from Conn.

JAMES Here's to the fiddler, first of all. May it be again like in the days of Ireland's glory, when the men of art had their rights and their dues.

He drinks.

CONN Long life to yourself, James Moynihan. (Conn drinks) I know you a long time now, and I know nothing to your discredit. You're one of the few people here that are to my liking. Well, if I'm nothing to them, they're nothing to me. I lived my own life, and I had the gift.

JAMES (with excitement) If Anne was here, I'd drink to her. I must go after Anne. May she never repent of her choice. (He goes to the door, then turns round) But sure I'm forgetting the jewel of them all, yourself, Maire Hourican. Long may you reign in splendour and success, and in the wish of your heart.

James Moynihan goes out. Conn Hourican goes back to the door, and remains looking out. Maire stands at fire.

CONN It's strange to be looking across that door, and the sun setting for our journey. And now we're letting the place go out of our hands. Well, Honor Gilroy's bit of land has been brought to a great many people.

He comes down to dresser. Maire goes up to window, and remains looking out.

CONN Is there any one coming here, Maire?

MAIRE There is no one coming. It's no wonder James's father thought the place was bare-looking.

CONN Well, the bit of land is going to James, and I was saying that it has been brought to a great many people.

Maire takes paper out, and looks at it.

CONN What paper is that, Maire?

MAIRE It's a paper that I have to put my name to. (She goes and sits at table) There's a pen and ink near your hand on the dresser, and you might give them to me. It's about giving this place to Anne, and James's father wants my name on the paper.

CONN Well, isn't James's father the councillor, with his paper and his signing? (He brings pen and ink from dresser, and leaves them on table. Maire makes preparations for writing. Conn lights candle at fire, and brings it over to table) And does that give the place to Anne for ever?

MAIRE It gives it to herself. (Maire signs the paper with the slowness of one unaccustomed to writing) It will be a great change for us when we come back to this place.

CONN (going to chair at fire) It will be a great change for you and me, no matter what we say.

MAIRE And now that James's father is putting stock on the land, the Moynihans will have great call to the place.

CONN Maire, your father is thinking of taking to the road.

MAIRE And how long would you be staying on the roads?

CONN Ah, what is there to bring me back to this country, Maire?

MAIRE Sure you're not thinking of going on the roads altogether?

CONN The road for the fiddler.

MAIRE Would you leave the shelter and the settled life? Would you go on the road by yourself?

CONN Anne and yourself will be settled, and I'll have the years before me.

MAIRE Then you'd go on the roads by yourself?

CONN Sure I did it before, Maire.

MAIRE Ah, but do you not remember the prayers that mother used to say for us to get some shelter? Do you not remember how proud and glad we were when we come by a place of our own?

CONN The shelter was for Anne and yourself. What had I to do with it?

MAIRE The Moynihans are not the sort to make us feel strangers in the place.

CONN The place was your own, Maire, and you gave it to your sister rather than see her waiting years and years.

MAIRE I came to give it to her after I saw how hard I was on yourself.

CONN Listen, my jewel, even if the Moynihans had nothing to do with the place, what would Conn Hourican the fiddler be doing in this country?

MAIRE Ah, there are many you might play to; there are lots that know about music. There's Michael Gilpatrick and John Molloy—

CONN And that's all, Maire. MAIRE You might go to Flynn's an odd time.

CONN And what do they know about music in Flynn's? Young Corney Myles was up there a while ago, and you'd think, from what the men said, that there was never the like of Corney for playing, and the boy isn't three years at the fiddle,

MAIRE Father, stay here where the shelter is.

CONN Sure, I'd be getting ould, and staying in the chimney-corner, with no one to talk to me, for you'd be going to a place of your own, and Anne? after a while, would have too much to mind.

MAIRE The people here are kinder than you think.

CONN But what has Conn Hourican to do with them anyhow? The very greatest were glad of my playing, and were proud to know me.

MAIRE I know that, father.

CONN Well, one is always meeting new life upon the roads, and I want to spend the years I have before me going from place to place.

MAIRE (going to him) If you took to the roads, I'd think I ought to go with you, for we were always together.

CONN Ah, Maire, there are some that would keep you here.

MAIRE Do you know who would keep me here?

CONN Brian MacConnell is very fond of you.

MAIRE Do you know that, father?

CONN And I know that you are fond of Brian. (There is no answer) That my jewel may have luck and prosperity. (Goes towards room door, leaving Maire standing there) I'll be taking this fiddle, Maire.

MAIRE Oh, are we going on the roads?

CONN To Ardagh, Maire.

MAIRE To Ardagh.

CONN I'll go up now, and make ready.

He takes candle off table, and goes back towards room door.

MAIRE Oh, what do I know about Brian MacConnell, after all?

CONN Brian is wild, but he is free-handed.

MAIRE Wild and free-handed! Are all men like that? Wild and free-handed! But that's not the sort of man I want to look to now.

CONN That's nothing to Brian's discredit. MAIRE Ah, what do I know about Brian MacConnell, except that he's a man of quarrels and broken words?

Conn holds up his hand warningly. Brian MacConnell comes to door.

CONN (opening half-door) You're welcome, Brian.

BRIAN Thank you for the good word, Conn.

He comes in.

MAIRE You're welcome, Brian MacConnell.

CONN (taking candle off dresser) I was going up to the room to make ready, but Maire will be glad to speak to you. I knew you wouldn't let us go without wishing us the luck of the road.

Goes up to room. Maire goes and sits on settle.

MAIRE Brian MacConnell has come to us again.

BRIAN I'm before you again. Let me tell you what I was doing since I was here last.

MAIRE What were you doing, Brian? Making quarrels, may be?

BRIAN (startled) Why do you say that?

MAIRE I'm thinking that you were doing what would become you, Brian MacConnell, with the free hand and the wild heart.

BRIAN They were telling you about me?

MAIRE I know you, Brian MacConnell.

BRIAN You don't know how I care for you, or you couldn't talk to me like that. Many's the time I left the spade in the ground, and went across the bogs and the rushes, to think of you. You come between me and the work I'd be doing. Ay, and if Heaven opened out before me, you would come between me and Heaven itself.

MAIRE It's easy taking a girl's heart.

BRIAN And I long to have more than walls and a roof to offer you. I'd have jewels and gold for you. I'd have ships on the sea for you.

MAIRE It's easy to take a girl's heart with the words of a song.

BRIAN I'm building a house for you, Maire. I'm raising it day by day.

MAIRE You left me long by myself.

BRIAN It's often I came to see the light in the window.

MAIRE Brian, my father wants to go back to the roads.

Brian goes and sits by her.

BRIAN I know that Conn would like to go back.

MAIRE He wants to go on the roads, to go by himself from place to place.

BRIAN Maybe he has the right to go.

MAIRE He has the right to go. It's the life of a fiddler to be on the roads.

BRIAN But you won't go on the roads.

MAIRE Oh, what am I to do, Brian?

BRIAN Do you think of me at all, Maire?

MAIRE Indeed I think of you. Until to-day I'd neither laugh nor cry but on account of you.

BRIAN I'm building a house, and it will be white and fine, and it's for you that I'm building the house.

MAIRE You're going to ask for my promise.

BRIAN Give me your promise before you go to Ardagh.

Maire rises.

MAIRE If I gave you my promise now, I'd have great delight in coming back to this place again.

BRIAN You won't deny me, my jewel of love?

MAIRE Oh, I'm very fond of Aughnalee. I feel that I was reared in the place. I'd like to live all my life in the place.

BRIAN And why would you go from it? MAIRE You might come with us to Ardagh, Brian.

BRIAN Your father might stay with us when he'd be in this country.

MAIRE That's true; I'm glad to think on that.

BRIAN Give me your promise, Maire.

MAIRE We'll talk on the road. There's the blackbird. I'll hear him every evening on the road, and I'll think I'm a day nearer home.

BRIAN Sure you'd leave them all to come with me.

MAIRE Ay, I think I would. (She takes up a new kerchief, and puts it on her, standing before the mirror) Do you know where I saw you first, Brian?

BRIAN Where was it, Maire?

MAIRE In a field by the road. You were breaking a horse.

BRIAN I was always a good hand with a horse.

MAIRE The poor beast was covered with foam and sweat, and at last you made it still. I thought it was grand then.

She sings.

I know where I'm going, I know who's going with me, I know who I love, But the dear knows who I'll marry.

Are your brothers with you, Brian?

BRIAN Is it building with me?

MAIRE Building with you?

She sings.

Some say he's dark, I say he's bonny. He's the flower of the flock, My charming, coaxing Johnny.

BRIAN (with sombre passion) No. My brothers are not with me. I quarrelled with them all and I am nearly heart broken for what I did.

MAIRE Ah, Brian MacConnell, I don't know what to say to you at all.

BRIAN You'll give me your promise, Maire?

MAIRE Promise. I've no promise to give to any man.

BRIAN Remember that these days past I had only yourself to think on.

MAIRE There was never a man but failed me some time. They all leave me to face the world alone.

BRIAN You said that I might go with you as far as Ardagh.

MAIRE No. You're not to come. Myself and my father go to Ardagh by ourselves.

BRIAN How was I to know that you would take that quarrel to heart?

MAIRE I thought you were strong, but I see now that you are only a man who forces himself to harsh behaviour. I have my own way to go; my father wants to go back to the roads, and it's right that I should be with him, to watch over him.

BRIAN What shelter will you have on the road?

MAIRE I'll have the quiet of evening, and my own thoughts, and I'll follow the music; I'll laugh and hold up my head again.

BRIAN Maire Hourican, would you leave me?

MAIRE What can I do for you, Brian MacConnell?

Brian goes to settle, and puts his hands before his eyes. She goes to him.

BRIAN You have thought for your father, and you have no thought for me.

MAIRE Indeed I have thought for you.

BRIAN O Maire, my jewel, do you care for me at all?

She kisses him.

BRIAN Maire!

She rises.

MAIRE I'm going to call my father.

BRIAN You go to him, and you go from me.

MAIRE You are both my care: my father and yourself.

BRIAN What will become of me when you go?

MAIRE Isn't it right, Brian, that I should be with my father on the roads? Even if I was in your house, I would be thinking that I should watch over him.

BRIAN Then it's good-bye you'd be saying?

MAIRE Good-bye, Brian MacConnell.

BRIAN (at door) Good-bye, Maire Hourican; gold and jewels, ships on the sea, may you have them all.

He goes out. With a cry Maire follows him to the door. She stands before door for a minute, then she goes back to table, and throwing herself down, remains with her head buried in her hands. James Moynihan comes in. Maire raises her head, and remains looking before her. James comes to table, and puts flowers beside Maire.

JAMES We gathered them for you, Maire. They're the woodbine. We were saying that you would be glad of the flower of the road. (Maire puts her hand on the flowers. James goes to the fire) Anne remembers a good deal about the road. She minds of the grassy ditches, where the two of you used to catch the young birds.

MAIRE I mind of them too.

JAMES And the women that used to be with your mother, that used to tell you the stories.

MAIRE And the things we used to talk about after a story! There's the turn of the road, and who's waiting for you? If it's your sweetheart, what will you say to him?

JAMES I'm often taken with the thought of the road! Going to the fair on a bright morning, I'd often wish to leave everything aside and follow the road.

A fiddle is heard outside. Conn Hourican comes down, dressed for the road. He has on the greatcoat. He carries fiddle. He puts fiddle on dresser.

CONN What music is that, James?

JAMES Some of the boys are coming to meet you, and they have a fiddle with them.

CONN Well, now, that's friendly of the boys.

JAMES I'll go out now, and let them know that you're coming. (He goes to door) Brian MacConnell turned the other way, and Anne went after him.

He goes out.

CONN (anxiously) Why did Brian MacConnell go away?

MAIRE We didn't agree; no, not after all you said.

CONN Maybe we'll see Brian at Ardagh.

MAIRE How would he ever come back when I bid him go from me?

CONN You bid Brian go from you! (He goes to the window) And there was myself that had the mind to go on the road that I see stretched out before me.

MAIRE (going to him) You need never come back here.

CONN I'll come back with yourself.

MAIRE I remember the time when we were on the roads. I remember sights we used to see! Little towns here, and big towns far away, and always the road.

CONN And the lasting kindness of the road!

MAIRE There is no need for you to come back here, father.

CONN And would you follow the road?

MAIRE Go back to the fiddler's life, and I'll go back with you. Well see Anne and James at Ardagh, and we'll be at their marriage. (She turns round as though to take farewell of the house) It's right that this place should go to Anne. The house wasn't for you, and it wasn't for me either, I begin to think.

Anne comes in.

ANNE (with a cry) Maire, you are going on the roads!

MAIRE How do you know that?

ANNE You bid Brian MacConnell go from you, and where else would you go but on the roads?

She goes to the settle and throws herself down, her hands before her face. Maire puts cloak on. Conn goes to Anne. He takes her hands from her face and holds them.

CONN Don't be grieving that we're going from you, Anne. When you come back here again, your own care will begin. I know that you grieve for Maire going from you, and my own heart is unquiet for her. (He goes to dresser, takes fiddle and wraps it up. He puts hat on. Maire goes to settle, and sits beside Anne) Well, here's Conn Hourican the fiddler going on his travels again. No man knows how his own life will end; but them who have the gift have to follow the gift. I'm leaving this house behind me; and maybe the time will come when I'll be climbing the hills and seeing this little house with the tears in my eyes. I'm leaving the land behind me, too; but what's land after all against the music that comes from the far, strange places, when the night is on the ground, and the bird in the grass is quiet?

The fiddle is heard again. Conn Hourican goes to door. Maire embraces Anne again, rises and goes to door. Anne follows slowly. Conn goes out. Maire turns to Anne.

MAIRE Tell Brian MacConnell that when we meet again maybe we can be kinder to each other.

Maire Hourican goes out with Conn. Anne is left standing at the door in the dusk.

END OF PLAY

THE FIDDLER'S HOUSE was first produced on 21st March, 1907, by the Theatre of Ireland, in the Rotunda, Dublin, with the following cast: —

CONN HOURICAN Joseph Goggin MAIRE HOURICAN Maire MacShiubhlaigh ANNE HOURICAN Eileen O'Doherty BRIAN MACCONNELL Ed. Keegan JAMES MOYNIHAN P. MacShiubhlaigh.