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diff --git a/old/oflvc10.txt b/old/oflvc10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..27ad7ce --- /dev/null +++ b/old/oflvc10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1462 @@ +The Project Gutenberg's O'Flaherty V.C., by George Bernard Shaw +#11 in our series by George Bernard Shaw. + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. + +Please do not remove this. + +This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book. +Do not change or edit it without written permission. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.08.01*END** +[Portions of this header are copyright (C) 2001 by Michael S. Hart +and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.] +[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales +of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or +software or any other related product without express permission.] + + + + + +This etext was produced by Eve Sobol, South Bend, Indiana, USA + + + + + +O'FLAHERTY V.C.: A RECRUITING PAMPHLET + +GEORGE BERNARD SHAW + + +It may surprise some people to learn that in 1915 this little +play was a recruiting poster in disguise. The British officer +seldom likes Irish soldiers; but he always tries to have a +certain proportion of them in his battalion, because, partly from +a want of common sense which leads them to value their lives less +than Englishmen do (lives are really less worth living in a poor +country), and partly because even the most cowardly Irishman +feels obliged to outdo an Englishman in bravery if possible, and +at least to set a perilous pace for him, Irish soldiers give +impetus to those military operations which require for their +spirited execution more devilment than prudence. + +Unfortunately, Irish recruiting was badly bungled in 1915. The +Irish were for the most part Roman Catholics and loyal Irishmen, +which means that from the English point of view they were +heretics and rebels. But they were willing enough to go +soldiering on the side of France and see the world outside +Ireland, which is a dull place to live in. It was quite easy to +enlist them by approaching them from their own point of view. But +the War Office insisted on approaching them from the point of +view of Dublin Castle. They were discouraged and repulsed by +refusals to give commissions to Roman Catholic officers, or to +allow distinct Irish units to be formed. To attract them, the +walls were covered with placards headed REMEMBER BELGIUM. The +folly of asking an Irishman to remember anything when you want +him to fight for England was apparent to everyone outside the +Castle: FORGET AND FORGIVE would have been more to the point. +Remembering Belgium and its broken treaty led Irishmen to +remember Limerick and its broken treaty; and the recruiting ended +in a rebellion, in suppressing which the British artillery quite +unnecessarily reduced the centre of Dublin to ruins, and the +British commanders killed their leading prisoners of war in cold +blood morning after morning with an effect of long-drawn-out +ferocity. Really it was only the usual childish petulance in +which John Bull does things in a week that disgrace him for a +century, though he soon recovers his good humor, and cannot +understand why the survivors of his wrath do not feel as jolly +with him as he does with them. On the smouldering ruins of Dublin +the appeals to remember Louvain were presently supplemented by a +fresh appeal. IRISHMEN, DO YOU WISH TO HAVE THE HORRORS OF WAR +BROUGHT TO YOUR OWN HEARTHS AND HOMES? Dublin laughed sourly. + +As for me I addressed myself quite simply to the business of +obtaining recruits. I knew by personal experience and observation +what anyone might have inferred from the records of Irish +emigration, that all an Irishman's hopes and ambitions turn on +his opportunities of getting out of Ireland. Stimulate his +loyalty, and he will stay in Ireland and die for her; for, +incomprehensible as it seems to an Englishman, Irish patriotism +does not take the form of devotion to England and England's king. +Appeal to his discontent, his deadly boredom, his thwarted +curiosity and desire for change and adventure, and, to escape +from Ireland, he will go abroad to risk his life for France, for +the Papal States, for secession in America, and even, if no +better may be, for England. Knowing that the ignorance and +insularity of the Irishman is a danger to himself and to his +neighbors, I had no scruple in making that appeal when there was +something for him to fight which the whole world had to fight +unless it meant to come under the jack boot of the German version +of Dublin Castle. + +There was another consideration, unmentionable by the recruiting +sergeants and war orators, which must nevertheless have helped +them powerfully in procuring soldiers by voluntary enlistment. +The happy home of the idealist may become common under millennial +conditions. It is not common at present. No one will ever know +how many men joined the army in 1914 and 1915 to escape from +tyrants and taskmasters, termagants and shrews, none of whom are +any the less irksome when they happen by ill-luck to be also our +fathers, our mothers, our wives and our children. Even at their +amiablest, a holiday from them may be a tempting change for all +parties. That is why I did not endow O'Flaherty V.C. with an +ideal Irish colleen for his sweetheart, and gave him for his +mother a Volumnia of the potato patch rather than a affectionate +parent from whom he could not so easily have torn himself away. + +I need hardly say that a play thus carefully adapted to its +purpose was voted utterly inadmissible; and in due course the +British Government, frightened out of its wits for the moment by +the rout of the Fifth Army, ordained Irish Conscription, and then +did not dare to go through with it. I still think my own line was +the more businesslike. But during the war everyone except the +soldiers at the front imagined that nothing but an extreme +assertion of our most passionate prejudices, without the smallest +regard to their effect on others, could win the war. Finally the +British blockade won the war; but the wonder is that the British +blockhead did not lose it. I suppose the enemy was no wiser. War +is not a sharpener of wits; and I am afraid I gave great offence +by keeping my head in this matter of Irish recruiting. What can I +do but apologize, and publish the play now that it can no longer +do any good? + + + +O'FLAHERTY V.C. + +At the door of an Irish country house in a park. Fine, summer +weather; the summer of 1916. The porch, painted white, projects +into the drive: but the door is at the side and the front has a +window. The porch faces east: and the door is in the north side +of it. On the south side is a tree in which a thrush is singing. +Under the window is a garden seat with an iron chair at each end +of it. + +The last four bars of God Save the King are heard in the +distance, followed by three cheers. Then the band strikes up It's +a Long Way to Tipperary and recedes until it is out of hearing. + +Private O'Flaherty V.C. comes wearily southward along the drive, +and falls exhausted into the garden seat. The thrush utters a +note of alarm and flies away. The tramp of a horse is heard. + +A GENTLEMAN'S VOICE. Tim! Hi! Tim! [He is heard dismounting.] + +A LABORER'S VOICE. Yes, your honor. + +THE GENTLEMAN'S VOICE. Take this horse to the stables, will you? + +A LABORER'S VOICE. Right, your honor. Yup there. Gwan now. Gwan. +[The horse is led away.] + +General Sir Pearce Madigan, an elderly baronet in khaki, beaming +with enthusiasm, arrives. O'Flaherty rises and stands at +attention. + +SIR PEARCE. No, no, O'Flaherty: none of that now. You're off +duty. Remember that though I am a general of forty years service, +that little Cross of yours gives you a higher rank in the roll of +glory than I can pretend to. + +O'FLAHERTY [relaxing]. I'm thankful to you, Sir Pearce; but I +wouldn't have anyone think that the baronet of my native place +would let a common soldier like me sit down in his presence +without leave. + +SIR PEARCE. Well, you're not a common soldier, O'Flaherty: you're +a very uncommon one; and I'm proud to have you for my guest here +today. + +O'FLAHERTY. Sure I know, sir. You have to put up with a lot from +the like of me for the sake of the recruiting. All the quality +shakes hands with me and says they're proud to know me, just the +way the king said when he pinned the Cross on me. And it's as +true as I'm standing here, sir, the queen said to me: "I hear you +were born on the estate of General Madigan," she says; "and the +General himself tells me you were always a fine young fellow." +"Bedad, Mam," I says to her, "if the General knew all the rabbits +I snared on him, and all the salmon I snatched on him, and all +the cows I milked on him, he'd think me the finest ornament for +the county jail he ever sent there for poaching." + +SIR PEARCE [Laughing]. You're welcome to them all, my lad. Come +[he makes him sit down again on the garden seat]! sit down and +enjoy your holiday [he sits down on one of the iron chairs; the +one at the doorless side of the porch.] + +O'FLAHERTY. Holiday, is it? I'd give five shillings to be back in +the trenches for the sake of a little rest and quiet. I never +knew what hard work was till I took to recruiting. What with the +standing on my legs all day, and the shaking hands, and the +making speeches, and--what's worse--the listening to them +and the calling for cheers for king and country, and the saluting +the flag till I'm stiff with it, and the listening to them +playing God Save the King and Tipperary, and the trying to make +my eyes look moist like a man in a picture book, I'm that bet +that I hardly get a wink of sleep. I give you my word, Sir +Pearce, that I never heard the tune of Tipperary in my life till +I came back from Flanders; and already it's drove me to that +pitch of tiredness of it that when a poor little innocent slip of +a boy in the street the other night drew himself up and saluted +and began whistling it at me, I clouted his head for him, God +forgive me. + +SIR PEARCE [soothingly]. Yes, yes: I know. I know. One does get +fed up with it: I've been dog tired myself on parade many a time. +But still, you know, there's a gratifying side to it, too. After +all, he is our king; and it's our own country, isn't it? + +O'FLAHERTY. Well, sir, to you that have an estate in it, it would +feel like your country. But the divil a perch of it ever I owned. +And as to the king: God help him, my mother would have taken the +skin off my back if I'd ever let on to have any other king than +Parnell. + +SIR PEARCE [rising, painfully shocked]. Your mother! What are you +dreaming about, O'Flaherty? A most loyal woman. Always most +loyal. Whenever there is an illness in the Royal Family, she asks +me every time we meet about the health of the patient as +anxiously as if it were yourself, her only son. + +O'FLAHERTY. Well, she's my mother; and I won't utter a word agen +her. But I'm not saying a word of lie when I tell you that that +old woman is the biggest kanatt from here to the cross of +Monasterboice. Sure she's the wildest Fenian and rebel, and +always has been, that ever taught a poor innocent lad like myself +to pray night and morning to St Patrick to clear the English out +of Ireland the same as he cleared the snakes. You'll be surprised +at my telling you that now, maybe, Sir Pearce? + +SIR PEARCE [unable to keep still, walking away from O'Flaherty]. +Surprised! I'm more than surprised, O'Flaherty. I'm overwhelmed. +[Turning and facing him.] Are you--are you joking? + +O'FLAHERTY. If you'd been brought up by my mother, sir, you'd +know better than to joke about her. What I'm telling you is the +truth; and I wouldn't tell it to you if I could see my way to get +out of the fix I'll be in when my mother comes here this day to +see her boy in his glory, and she after thinking all the time it +was against the English I was fighting. + +SIR PEARCE. Do you mean to say you told her such a monstrous +falsehood as that you were fighting in the German army? + +O'FLAHERTY. I never told her one word that wasn't the truth and +nothing but the truth. I told her I was going to fight for the +French and for the Russians; and sure who ever heard of the +French or the Russians doing anything to the English but fighting +them? That was how it was, sir. And sure the poor woman kissed me +and went about the house singing in her old cracky voice that the +French was on the sea, and they'd be here without delay, and the +Orange will decay, says the Shan Van Vocht. + +SIR PEARCE [sitting down again, exhausted by his feelings]. Well, +I never could have believed this. Never. What do you suppose will +happen when she finds out? + +O'FLAHERTY. She mustn't find out. It's not that she'd half kill +me, as big as I am and as brave as I am. It's that I'm fond of +her, and can't bring myself to break the heart in her. You may +think it queer that a man should be fond of his mother, sir, and +she having bet him from the time he could feel to the time she +was too slow to ketch him; but I'm fond of her; and I'm not +ashamed of it. Besides, didn't she win the Cross for me? + +SIR PEARCE. Your mother! How? + +O'FLAHERTY. By bringing me up to be more afraid of running away +than of fighting. I was timid by nature; and when the other boys +hurted me, I'd want to run away and cry. But she whaled me for +disgracing the blood of the O'Flahertys until I'd have fought the +divil himself sooner than face her after funking a fight. That +was how I got to know that fighting was easier than it looked, +and that the others was as much afeard of me as I was of them, +and that if I only held out long enough they'd lose heart and +give rip. That's the way I came to be so courageous. I tell you, +Sir Pearce, if the German army had been brought up by my mother, +the Kaiser would be dining in the banqueting hall at Buckingham +Palace this day, and King George polishing his jack boots for him +in the scullery. + +SIR PEARCE. But I don't like this, O'Flaherty. You can't go on +deceiving your mother, you know. It's not right. + +O'FLAHERTY. Can't go on deceiving her, can't I? It's little you +know what a son's love can do, sir. Did you ever notice what a +ready liar I am? + +SIR PEARCE. Well, in recruiting a man gets carried away. I +stretch it a bit occasionally myself. After all, it's for king +and country. But if you won't mind my saying it, O'Flaherty, I +think that story about your fighting the Kaiser and the twelve +giants of the Prussian guard singlehanded would be the better for +a little toning down. I don't ask you to drop it, you know; for +it's popular, undoubtedly; but still, the truth is the truth. +Don't you think it would fetch in almost as many recruits if you +reduced the number of guardsmen to six? + +O'FLAHERTY. You're not used to telling lies like I am, sir. I got +great practice at home with my mother. What with saving my skin +when I was young and thoughtless, and sparing her feelings when I +was old enough to understand them, I've hardly told my mother the +truth twice a year since I was born; and would you have me turn +round on her and tell it now, when she's looking to have some +peace and quiet in her old age? + +SIR PEARCE (troubled in his conscience]. Well, it's not my +affair, of course, O'Flaherty. But hadn't you better talk to +Father Quinlan about it? + +O'FLAHERTY. Talk to Father Quinlan, is it! Do you know what +Father Quinlan says to me this very morning? + +SIR PEARCE. Oh, you've seen him already, have you? What did he +say? + +O'FLAHERTY. He says "You know, don't you," he says, "that it's +your duty, as a Christian and a good son of the Holy Church, to +love your enemies?" he says. "I know it's my juty as a soldier to +kill them," I says. "That's right, Dinny," he says: "quite right. +But," says he, "you can kill them and do them a good turn +afterward to show your love for them" he says; "and it's your +duty to have a mass said for the souls of the hundreds of Germans +you say you killed," says he; "for many and many of them were +Bavarians and good Catholics," he says. "Is it me that must pay +for masses for the souls of the Boshes?" I says. "Let the King of +England pay for them," I says; "for it was his quarrel and not +mine." + +SIR PEARCE [warmly]. It is the quarrel of every honest man and +true patriot, O'Flaherty. Your mother must see that as clearly as +I do. After all, she is a reasonable, well disposed woman, quite +capable of understanding the right and the wrong of the war. Why +can't you explain to her what the war is about? + +O'FLAHERTY. Arra, sir, how the divil do I know what the war is +about? + +SIR PEARCE (rising again and standing over him]. What! +O'Flaherty: do you know what you are saying? You sit there +wearing the Victoria Cross for having killed God knows how many +Germans; and you tell me you don't know why you did it! + +O'FLAHERTY. Asking your pardon, Sir Pearce, I tell you no such +thing. I know quite well why I kilt them, because I was afeard +that, if I didn't, they'd kill me. + +SIR PEARCE (giving it up, and sitting down again]. Yes, yes, of +course; but have you no knowledge of the causes of the war? of +the interests at stake? of the importance--I may almost say--in +fact I will say--the sacred right for which we are fighting? +Don't you read the papers? + +O'FLAHERTY. I do when I can get them. There's not many newsboys +crying the evening paper in the trenches. They do say, Sir +Pearce, that we shall never beat the Boshes until we make Horatio +Bottomley Lord Leftnant of England. Do you think that's true, +sir? + +SIR PEARCE. Rubbish, man! there's no Lord Lieutenant in England: +the king is Lord Lieutenant. It's a simple question of +patriotism. Does patriotism mean nothing to you? + +O'FLAHERTY. It means different to me than what it would to you, +sir. It means England and England's king to you. To me and the +like of me, it means talking about the English just the way the +English papers talk about the Boshes. And what good has it ever +done here in Ireland? It's kept me ignorant because it filled up +my mother's mind, and she thought it ought to fill up mine too. +It's kept Ireland poor, because instead of trying to better +ourselves we thought we was the fine fellows of patriots when we +were speaking evil of Englishmen that was as poor as ourselves +and maybe as good as ourselves. The Boshes I kilt was more +knowledgable men than me; and what better am I now that I've kilt +them? What better is anybody? + +SIR PEARCE [huffed, turning a cold shoulder to him]. I am sorry +the terrible experience of this war--the greatest war ever fought +--has taught you no better, O'Flaherty. + +O'FLAHERTY [preserving his dignity]. I don't know about it's +being a great war, sir. It's a big war; but that's not the same +thing. Father Quinlan's new church is a big church: you might +take the little old chapel out of the middle of it and not miss +it. But my mother says there was more true religion in the old +chapel. And the war has taught me that maybe she was right. + +SIR PEARCE [grunts sulkily]!! + +O'FLAHERTY [respectfully but doggedly]. And there's another thing +it's taught me too, sir, that concerns you and me, if I may make +bold to tell it to you. + +SIR PEARCE [still sulky]. I hope it's nothing you oughtn't to say +to me, O'Flaherty. + +O'FLAHERTY. It's this, sir: that I'm able to sit here now and +talk to you without humbugging you; and that's what not one of +your tenants or your tenants' childer ever did to you before in +all your long life. It's a true respect I'm showing you at last, +sir. Maybe you'd rather have me humbug you and tell you lies as I +used, just as the boys here, God help them, would rather have me +tell them how I fought the Kaiser, that all the world knows I +never saw in my life, than tell them the truth. But I can't take +advantage of you the way I used, not even if I seem to be wanting +in respect to you and cocked up by winning the Cross. + +SIR PEARCE [touched]. Not at all, O'Flaherty. Not at all. + +O'FLAHERTY. Sure what's the Cross to me, barring the little +pension it carries? Do you think I don't know that there's +hundreds of men as brave as me that never had the luck to get +anything for their bravery but a curse from the sergeant, and the +blame for the faults of them that ought to have been their +betters? I've learnt more than you'd think, sir; for how would a +gentleman like you know what a poor ignorant conceited creature I +was when I went from here into the wide world as a soldier? What +use is all the lying, and pretending, and humbugging, and letting +on, when the day comes to you that your comrade is killed in the +trench beside you, and you don't as much as look round at him +until you trip over his poor body, and then all you say is to ask +why the hell the stretcher-bearers don't take it out of the way. +Why should I read the papers to be humbugged and lied to by them +that had the cunning to stay at home and send me to fight for +them? Don't talk to me or to any soldier of the war being right. +No war is right; and all the holy water that Father Quinlan ever +blessed couldn't make one right. There, sir! Now you know what +O'Flaherty V.C. thinks; and you're wiser so than the others that +only knows what he done. + +SIR PEARCE [making the best of it, and turning goodhumoredly to +him again]. Well, what you did was brave and manly, anyhow. + +O'FLAHERTY. God knows whether it was or not, better than you nor +me, General. I hope He won't be too hard on me for it, anyhow. + +SIR PEARCE [sympathetically]. Oh yes: we all have to think +seriously sometimes, especially when we're a little run down. I'm +afraid we've been overworking you a bit over these recruiting +meetings. However, we can knock off for the rest of the day; and +tomorrow's Sunday. I've had about as much as I can stand myself. +[He looks at his watch.] It's teatime. I wonder what's keeping +your mother. + +O'FLAHERTY. It's nicely cocked up the old woman will be having +tea at the same table as you, sir, instead of in the kitchen. +She'll be after dressing in the heighth of grandeur; and stop she +will at every house on the way to show herself off and tell them +where she's going, and fill the whole parish with spite and envy. +But sure, she shouldn't keep you waiting, sir. + +SIR PEARCE. Oh, that's all right: she must be indulged on an +occasion like this. I'm sorry my wife is in London: she'd have +been glad to welcome your mother. + +O'FLAHERTY. Sure, I know she would, sir. She was always a kind +friend to the poor. Little her ladyship knew, God help her, the +depth of divilment that was in us: we were like a play to her. +You see, sir, she was English: that was how it was. We was to her +what the Pathans and Senegalese was to me when I first seen them: +I couldn't think, somehow, that they were liars, and thieves, and +backbiters, and drunkards, just like ourselves or any other +Christians. Oh, her ladyship never knew all that was going on +behind her back: how would she? When I was a weeshy child, she +gave me the first penny I ever had in my hand; and I wanted to +pray for her conversion that night the same as my mother made me +pray for yours; and-- + +SIR PEARCE [scandalized]. Do you mean to say that your mother +made you pray for MY conversion? + +O'FLAHERTY. Sure and she wouldn't want to see a gentleman like +you going to hell after she nursing your own son and bringing up +my sister Annie on the bottle. That was how it was, sir. She'd +rob you; and she'd lie to you; and she'd call down all the +blessings of God on your head when she was selling you your own +three geese that you thought had been ate by the fox the day +after you'd finished fattening them, sir; and all the time you +were like a bit of her own flesh and blood to her. Often has she +said she'd live to see you a good Catholic yet, leading +victorious armies against the English and wearing the collar of +gold that Malachi won from the proud invader. Oh, she's the +romantic woman is my mother, and no mistake. + +SIR PEARCE [in great perturbation]. I really can't believe this, +O'Flaherty. I could have sworn your mother was as honest a woman +as ever breathed. + +O'FLAHERTY. And so she is, sir. She's as honest as the day. + +SIR PEARCE. Do you call it honest to steal my geese? + +O'FLAHERTY. She didn't steal them, sir. It was me that stole +them. + +SIR PEARCE. Oh! And why the devil did you steal them? + +O'FLAHERTY. Sure we needed them, sir. Often and often we had to +sell our own geese to pay you the rent to satisfy your needs; and +why shouldn't we sell your geese to satisfy ours? + +SIR PEARCE. Well, damn me! + +O'FLAHERTY [sweetly]. Sure you had to get what you could out of +us; and we had to get what we could out of you. God forgive us +both! + +SIR PEARCE. Really, O'Flaherty, the war seems to have upset you a +little. + +O'FLAHERTY. It's set me thinking, sir; and I'm not used to it. +It's like the patriotism of the English. They never thought of +being patriotic until the war broke out; and now the patriotism +has took them so sudden and come so strange to them that they run +about like frightened chickens, uttering all manner of nonsense. +But please God they'll forget all about it when the war's over. +They're getting tired of it already. + +SIR PEARCE. No, no: it has uplifted us all in a wonderful way. +The world will never be the same again, O'Flaherty. Not after a +war like this. + +O'FLAHERTY. So they all say, sir. I see no great differ myself. +It's all the fright and the excitement; and when that quiets down +they'll go back to their natural divilment and be the same as +ever. It's like the vermin: it'll wash off after a while. + +SIR PEARCE [rising and planting himself firmly behind the garden +seat]. Well, the long and the short of it is, O'Flaherty, I must +decline to be a party to any attempt to deceive your mother. I +thoroughly disapprove of this feeling against the English, +especially at a moment like the present. Even if your mother's +political sympathies are really what you represent them to be, I +should think that her gratitude to Gladstone ought to cure her of +such disloyal prejudices. + +O'FLAHERTY [over his shoulder]. She says Gladstone was an +Irishman, Sir. What call would he have to meddle with Ireland as +he did if he wasn't? + +SIR PEARCE. What nonsense! Does she suppose Mr Asquith is an +Irishman? + +O'FLAHERTY. She won't give him any credit for Home Rule, Sir. She +says Redmond made him do it. She says you told her so. + +SIR PEARCE [convicted out of his own mouth]. Well, I never meant +her to take it up in that ridiculous way. [He moves to the end of +the garden seat on O'Flaherty's left.] I'll give her a good +talking to when she comes. I'm not going to stand any of her +nonsense. + +O'FLAHERTY. It's not a bit of use, sir. She says all the English +generals is Irish. She says all the English poets and great men +was Irish. She says the English never knew how to read their own +books until we taught them. She says we're the lost tribes of the +house of Israel and the chosen people of God. She says that the +goddess Venus, that was born out of the foam of the sea, came up +out of the water in Killiney Bay off Bray Head. She says that +Moses built the seven churches, and that Lazarus was buried in +Glasnevin. + +SIR PEARCE. Bosh! How does she know he was? Did you ever ask her? + +O'FLAHERTY. I did, sir, often. + +SIR PEARCE. And what did she say? + +O'FLAHERTY. She asked me how did I know he wasn't, and fetched me +a clout on the side of my head. + +SIR PEARCE. But have you never mentioned any famous Englishman to +her, and asked her what she had to say about him? + +O'FLAHERTY. The only one I could think of was Shakespeare, sir; +and she says he was born in Cork. + +SIR PEARCE [exhausted]. Well, I give it up [he throws himself +into the nearest chair]. The woman is--Oh, well! No matter. + +O'FLAHERTY [sympathetically]. Yes, sir: she's pigheaded and +obstinate: there's no doubt about it. She's like the English: +they think there's no one like themselves. It's the same with the +Germans, though they're educated and ought to know better. You'll +never have a quiet world till you knock the patriotism out of the +human race. + +SIR PEARCE. Still, we-- + +O'FLAHERTY. Whisht, sir, for God's sake: here she is. + +The General jumps up. Mrs. O'Flaherty arrives and comes between +the two men. She is very clean, and carefully dressed in the old +fashioned peasant costume; black silk sunbonnet with a tiara of +trimmings, and black cloak. + +O'FLAHERTY [rising shyly]. Good evening, mother. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY [severely). You hold your whisht, and learn +behavior while I pay my juty to his honor. [To Sir Pearce, +heartily.] And how is your honor's good self? And how is her +ladyship and all the young ladies? Oh, it's right glad we are to +see your honor back again and looking the picture of health. + +SIR PEARCE [forcing a note of extreme geniality). Thank you, Mrs +O'Flaherty. Well, you see we've brought you back your son safe +and sound. I hope you're proud of him. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. And indeed and I am, your honor. It's the brave +boy he is; and why wouldn't he be, brought up on your honor's +estate and with you before his eyes for a pattern of the finest +soldier in Ireland. Come and kiss your old mother, Dinny darlint. +[O'Flaherty does so sheepishly.) That's my own darling boy. And +look at your fine new uniform stained already with the eggs +you've been eating and the porter you've been drinking. [She +takes out her handkerchief: spits on it: and scrubs his lapel +with it.] Oh, it's the untidy slovenly one you always were. +There! It won't be seen on the khaki: it's not like the old red +coat that would show up everything that dribbled down on it. [To +Sir Pearce.] And they tell me down at the lodge that her ladyship +is staying in London, and that Miss Agnes is to be married to a +fine young nobleman. Oh, it's your honor that is the lucky and +happy father! It will be bad news for many of the young gentlemen +of the quality round here, sir. There's lots thought she was +going to marry young Master Lawless + +SIR PEARCE. What! That--that--that bosthoon! + +MRS O'FLAHERTY [hilariously]. Let your honor alone for finding +the right word! A big bosthoon he is indeed, your honor. Oh, to +think of the times and times I have said that Miss Agnes would be +my lady as her mother was before her! Didn't I, Dinny? + +SIR PEARCE. And now, Mrs. O'Flaherty, I daresay you have a great +deal to say to Dennis that doesn't concern me. I'll just go in +and order tea. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. Oh, why would your honor disturb yourself? Sure I +can take the boy into the yard. + +SIR PEARCE. Not at all. It won't disturb me in the least. And +he's too big a boy to be taken into the yard now. He has made a +front seat for himself. Eh? [He goes into the house.] + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. Sure he has that, your honor. God bless your +honor! [The General being now out of hearing, she turns +threateningly to her son with one of those sudden Irish changes +of manner which amaze and scandalize less flexible nations, and +exclaims.) And what do you mean, you lying young scald, by +telling me you were going to fight agen the English? Did you take +me for a fool that couldn't find out, and the papers all full of +you shaking hands with the English king at Buckingham Palace? + +O'FLAHERTY. I didn't shake hands with him: he shook hands with +me. Could I turn on the man in his own house, before his own +wife, with his money in my pocket and in yours, and throw his +civility back in his face? + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. You would take the hand of a tyrant red with the +blood of Ireland-- + +O'FLAHERTY. Arra hold your nonsense, mother: he's not half the +tyrant you are, God help him. His hand was cleaner than mine that +had the blood of his own relations on it, maybe. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY [threateningly]. Is that a way to speak to your +mother, you young spalpeen? + +O'FLAHERTY [stoutly]. It is so, if you won't talk sense to me. +It's a nice thing for a poor boy to be made much of by kings and +queens, and shook hands with by the heighth of his country's +nobility in the capital cities of the world, and then to come +home and be scolded and insulted by his own mother. I'll fight +for who I like; and I'll shake hands with what kings I like; and +if your own son is not good enough for you, you can go and look +for another. Do you mind me now? + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. And was it the Belgians learned you such brazen +impudence? + +O'FLAHERTY. The Belgians is good men; and the French ought to be +more civil to them, let alone their being half murdered by the +Boshes. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. Good men is it! Good men! to come over here when +they were wounded because it was a Catholic country, and then to +go to the Protestant Church because it didn't cost them anything, +and some of them to never go near a church at all. That's what +you call good men! + +O'FLAHERTY. Oh, you're the mighty fine politician, aren't you? +Much you know about Belgians or foreign parts or the world you're +living in, God help you! + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. Why wouldn't I know better than you? Amment I +your mother? + +O'FLAHERTY. And if you are itself, how can you know what you +never seen as well as me that was dug into the continent of +Europe for six months, and was buried in the earth of it three +times with the shells bursting on the top of me? I tell you I +know what I'm about. I have my own reasons for taking part in +this great conflict. I'd be ashamed to stay at home and not fight +when everybody else is fighting. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. If you wanted to fight, why couldn't you fight in +the German army? + +O'FLAHERTY. Because they only get a penny a day. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. Well, and if they do itself, isn't there the +French army? + +O'FLAHERTY. They only get a hapenny a day. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY [much dashed]. Oh murder! They must be a mean lot, +Dinny. + +O'FLAHERTY [sarcastic]. Maybe you'd have me in the Turkish army, +and worship the heathen Mahomet that put a corn in his ear and +pretended it was a message from the heavens when the pigeon come +to pick it out and eat it. I went where I could get the biggest +allowance for you; and little thanks I get for it! + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. Allowance, is it! Do you know what the thieving +blackguards did on me? They came to me and they says, "Was your +son a big eater?" they says. "Oh, he was that," says I: "ten +shillings a week wouldn't keep him." Sure I thought the more I +said the more they'd give me. "Then," says they, "that's ten +shillings a week off your allowance," they says, "because you +save that by the king feeding him." "Indeed!" says I: "I suppose +if I'd six sons, you'd stop three pound a week from me, and make +out that I ought to pay you money instead of you paying me." +"There's a fallacy in your argument," they says. + +O'FLAHERTY. A what? + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. A fallacy: that's the word he said. I says to +him, "It's a Pharisee I'm thinking you mean, sir; but you can +keep your dirty money that your king grudges a poor old widow; +and please God the English will be bet yet for the deadly sin of +oppressing the poor"; and with that I shut the door in his face. + +O'FLAHERTY [furious]. Do you tell me they knocked ten shillings +off you for my keep? + +MRS O'FLAHERTY [soothing him]. No, darlint: they only knocked off +half a crown. I put up with it because I've got the old age +pension; and they know very well I'm only sixty-two; so I've the +better of them by half a crown a week anyhow. + +O'FLAHERTY. It's a queer way of doing business. If they'd tell +you straight out what they was going to give you, you wouldn't +mind; but if there was twenty ways of telling the truth and only +one way of telling a lie, the Government would find it out. It's +in the nature of governments to tell lies. + +Teresa Driscoll, a parlor maid, comes from the house, + +TERESA. You're to come up to the drawing-room to have your tea, +Mrs. O'Flaherty. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. Mind you have a sup of good black tea for me in +the kitchen afterwards, acushla. That washy drawing-room tea will +give me the wind if I leave it on my stomach. [She goes into the +house, leaving the two young people alone together.] + +O'FLAHERTY. Is that yourself, Tessie? And how are you? + +TERESA. Nicely, thank you. And how's yourself? + +O'FLAHERTY. Finely, thank God. [He produces a gold chain.] Look +what I've brought you, Tessie. + +TERESA [shrinking]. Sure I don't like to touch it, Denny. Did you +take it off a dead man? + +O'FLAHERTY. No: I took it off a live one; and thankful he was to +me to be alive and kept a prisoner in ease and comfort, and me +left fighting in peril of my life. + +TERESA [taking it]. Do you think it's real gold, Denny? + +O'FLAHERTY. It's real German gold, anyhow. + +TERESA. But German silver isn't real, Denny. + +O'FLAHERTY [his face darkening]. Well, it's the best the Bosh +could do for me, anyhow. + +TERESA. Do you think I might take it to the jeweller next market +day and ask him? + +O'FLAHERTY [sulkily]. You may take it to the divil if you like. + +TERESA. You needn't lose your temper about it. I only thought I'd +like to know. The nice fool I'd look if I went about showing off +a chain that turned out to be only brass! + +O'FLAHERTY. I think you might say Thank you. + +TERESA. Do you? I think you might have said something more to me +than "Is that yourself?" You couldn't say less to the postman. + +O'FLAHERTY [his brow clearing]. Oh, is that what's the matter? +Here! come and take the taste of ther brass out of my mouth. [He +seizes her and kisses her.] + +Teresa, without losing her Irish dignity, takes the kiss as +appreciatively as a connoisseur might take a glass of wine, and +sits down with him on the garden seat, + +TERESA [as he squeezes her waist]. Thank God the priest can't see +us here! + +O'FLAHERTY. It's little they care for priests in France, alanna. + +TERESA. And what had the queen on her, Denny, when she spoke to +you in the palace? + +O'FLAHERTY. She had a bonnet on without any strings to it. And +she had a plakeen of embroidery down her bosom. And she had her +waist where it used to be, and not where the other ladies had it. +And she had little brooches in her ears, though she hadn't half +the jewelry of Mrs Sullivan that keeps the popshop in Drumpogue. +And she dresses her hair down over her forehead, in a fringe +like. And she has an Irish look about her eyebrows. And she +didn't know what to say to me, poor woman! and I didn't know what +to say to her, God help me! + +TERESA. You'll have a pension now with the Cross, won't you, +Denny? + +O'FLAHERTY. Sixpence three farthings a day. + +TERESA. That isn't much. + +O'FLAHERTY. I take out the rest in glory. + +TERESA. And if you're wounded, you'll have a wound pension, won't +you? + +O'FLAHERTY. I will, please God. + +TERESA. You're going out again, aren't you, Denny? + +O'FLAHERTY. I can't help myself. I'd be shot for a deserter if I +didn't go; and maybe I'll be shot by the Boshes if I do go; so +between the two of them I'm nicely fixed up. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY [calling from within the house]. Tessie! Tessie +darlint! + +TERESA [disengaging herself from his arm and rising]. I'm wanted +for the tea table. You'll have a pension anyhow, Denny, won't +you, whether you're wounded or not? + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. Come, child, come. + +TERESA [impatiently]. Oh, sure I'm coming. [She tries to smile at +Denny, not very convincingly, and hurries into the house.] + +O'FLAHERTY [alone]. And if I do get a pension itself, the divil a +penny of it you'll ever have the spending of. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY [as she comes from the porch]. Oh, it's a shame +for you to keep the girl from her juties, Dinny. You might get +her into trouble. + +O'FLAHERTY. Much I care whether she gets into trouble or not! I +pity the man that gets her into trouble. He'll get himself into +worse. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. What's that you tell me? Have you been falling +out with her, and she a girl with a fortune of ten pounds? + +O'FLAHERTY. Let her keep her fortune. I wouldn't touch her with +the tongs if she had thousands and millions. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. Oh fie for shame, Dinny! why would you say the +like of that of a decent honest girl, and one of the Driscolls +too? + +O'FLAHERTY. Why wouldn't I say it? She's thinking of nothing but +to get me out there again to be wounded so that she may spend my +pension, bad scran to her! + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. Why, what's come over you, child, at all at all? + +O'FLAHERTY. Knowledge and wisdom has come over me with pain and +fear and trouble. I've been made a fool of and imposed upon all +my life. I thought that covetious sthreal in there was a walking +angel; and now if ever I marry at all I'll marry a Frenchwoman. + +MRS O'FLARERTY [fiercely]. You'll not, so; and don't you dar +repeat such a thing to me. + +O'FLAHERTY. Won't I, faith! I've been as good as married to a +couple of them already. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. The Lord be praised, what wickedness have you +been up to, you young blackguard? + +O'FLAHERTY. One of them Frenchwomen would cook you a meal twice +in the day and all days and every day that Sir Pearce himself +might go begging through Ireland for, and never see the like of. +I'll have a French wife, I tell you; and when I settle down to be +a farmer I'll have a French farm, with a field as big as the +continent of Europe that ten of your dirty little fields here +wouldn't so much as fill the ditch of. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY [furious]. Then it's a French mother you may go +look for; for I'm done with you. + +O'FLAHERTY. And it's no great loss you'd be if it wasn't for my +natural feelings for you; for it's only a silly ignorant old +countrywoman you are with all your fine talk about Ireland: you +that never stepped beyond the few acres of it you were born on! + +MRS O'FLAHERTY [tottering to the garden seat and showing signs of +breaking down]. Dinny darlint, why are you like this to me? +What's happened to you? + +O'FLAHERTY [gloomily]. What's happened to everybody? that's what +I want to know. What's happened to you that I thought all the +world of and was afeard of? What's happened to Sir Pearce, that I +thought was a great general, and that I now see to be no more fit +to command an army than an old hen? What's happened to Tessie, +that I was mad to marry a year ago, and that I wouldn't take now +with all Ireland for her fortune? I tell you the world's creation +is crumbling in ruins about me; and then you come and ask what's +happened to me? + +MRS O'FLAHERTY [giving way to wild grief]. Ochone! ochone! my +son's turned agen me. Oh, what'll I do at all at all? Oh! oh! oh! +oh! + +SIR PEARCE [running out of the house]. What's this infernal +noise? What on earth is the matter? + +O'FLAHERTY. Arra hold your whisht, mother. Don't you see his +honor? + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. Oh, Sir, I'm ruined and destroyed. Oh, won't you +speak to Dinny, Sir: I'm heart scalded with him. He wants to +marry a Frenchwoman on me, and to go away and be a foreigner and +desert his mother and betray his country. It's mad he is with the +roaring of the cannons and he killing the Germans and the Germans +killing him, bad cess to them! My boy is taken from me and turned +agen me; and who is to take care of me in my old age after all +I've done for him, ochone! ochone! + +O'FLAHERTY. Hold your noise, I tell you. Who's going to leave +you? I'm going to take you with me. There now: does that satisfy +you? + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. Is it take me into a strange land among heathens +and pagans and savages, and me not knowing a word of their +language nor them of mine? + +O'FLAHERTY. A good job they don't: maybe they'll think you're +talking sense. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. Ask me to die out of Ireland, is it? and the +angels not to find me when they come for me! + +O'FLAHERTY. And would you ask me to live in Ireland where I've +been imposed on and kept in ignorance, and to die where the divil +himself wouldn't take me as a gift, let alone the blessed angels? +You can come or stay. You can take your old way or take my young +way. But stick in this place I will not among a lot of +good-for-nothing divils that'll not do a hand's turn but watch +the grass growing and build up the stone wall where the cow +walked through it. And Sir Horace Plunkett breaking his heart all +the time telling them how they might put the land into decent +tillage like the French and Belgians. + +SIR PEARCE. Yes, he's quite right, you know, Mrs O'Flaherty: +quite right there. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. Well, sir, please God the war will last a long +time yet; and maybe I'll die before it's over and the separation +allowance stops. + +O'FLAHERTY. That's all you care about. It's nothing but milch +cows we men are for the women, with their separation allowances, +ever since the war began, bad luck to them that made it! + +TERESA [coming from the porch between the General and Mrs +O'Flaherty. Hannah sent me out for to tell you, sir, that the tea +will be black and the cake not fit to eat with the cold if yous +all don't come at wanst. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY [breaking out again]. Oh, Tessie darlint, what +have you been saying to Dinny at all at all? Oh! Oh-- + +SIR PEARCE [out of patience]. You can't discuss that here. We +shall have Tessie beginning now. + +O'FLAHERTY. That's right, sir: drive them in. + +TERESA. I haven't said a word to him. He-- + +SIR PEARCE. Hold your tongue; and go in and attend to your +business at the tea table. + +TERESA. But amment I telling your honor that I never said a word +to him? He gave me a beautiful gold chain. Here it is to show +your honor that it's no lie I'm telling you. + +SIR PEARCE. What's this, O'Flaherty? You've been looting some +unfortunate officer. + +O'FLAHERTY. No, sir: I stole it from him of his own accord. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY. Wouldn't your honor tell him that his mother has +the first call on it? What would a slip of a girl like that be +doing with a gold chain round her neck? + +TERESA [venomously]. Anyhow, I have a neck to put it round and +not a hank of wrinkles. + +At this unfortunate remark, Mrs O'Flaherty bounds from her seat: +and an appalling tempest of wordy wrath breaks out. The +remonstrances and commands of the General, and the protests and +menaces of O'Flaherty, only increase the hubbub. They are soon +all speaking at once at the top of their voices. + +MRS O'FLAHERTY [solo]. You impudent young heifer, how dar you say +such a thing to me? [Teresa retorts furiously: the men interfere: +and the solo becomes a quartet, fortissimo.] I've a good mind to +clout your ears for you to teach you manners. Be ashamed of +yourself, do; and learn to know who you're speaking to. That I +maytn't sin! but I don't know what the good God was thinking +about when he made the like of you. Let me not see you casting +sheep's eyes at my son again. There never was an O'Flaherty yet +that would demean himself by keeping company with a dirty +Driscoll; and if I see you next or nigh my house I'll put you in +the ditch with a flea in your ear: mind that now. + +TERESA. Is it me you offer such a name to, you fou-mouthed, +dirty-minded, lying, sloothering old sow, you? I wouldn't soil my +tongue by calling you in your right name and telling Sir Pearce +what's the common talk of the town about you. You and your +O'Flahertys! setting yourself up agen the Driscolls that would +never lower themselves to be seen in conversation with you at the +fair. You can keep your ugly stingy lump of a son; for what is he +but a common soldier? and God help the girl that gets him, say I! +So the back of my hand to you, Mrs O'Flaherty; and that the cat +may tear your ugly old face! + +SIR PEARCE. Silence. Tessie, did you hear me ordering you to go +into the house? Mrs O'Flaherty! [Louder.] Mrs O'Flaherty!! Will +you just listen to me one moment? Please. [Furiously.] Do you +hear me speaking to you, woman? Are you human beings or are you +wild beasts? Stop that noise immediately: do you hear? [Yelling.] +Are you going to do what I order you, or are you not? Scandalous! +Disgraceful! This comes of being too familiar with you. +O'Flaherty, shove them into the house. Out with the whole damned +pack of you. + +O'FLAHERTY [to the women]. Here now: none of that, none of that. +Go easy, I tell you. Hold your whisht, mother, will you, or +you'll be sorry for it after. [To Teresa.] Is that the way for a +decent young girl to speak? [Despairingly.] Oh, for the Lord's +sake, shut up, will yous? Have you no respect for yourselves or +your betters? [Peremptorily.] Let me have no more of it, I tell +you. Och! the divil's in the whole crew of you. In with you into +the house this very minute and tear one another's eyes out in the +kitchen if you like. In with you. + +The two men seize the two women, and push them, still violently +abusing one another, into the house. Sir Pearce slams the door +upon them savagely. Immediately a heavenly silence falls on the +summer afternoon. The two sit down out of breath: and for a long +time nothing is said. Sir Pearce sits on an iron chair. +O'Flaherty sits on the garden seat. The thrush begins to sing +melodiously. O'Flaherty cocks his ears, and looks up at it. A +smile spreads over his troubled features. Sir Pearce, with a long +sigh, takes out his pipe and begins to fill it. + +O'FLAHERTY [idyllically]. What a discontented sort of an animal a +man is, sir! Only a month ago, I was in the quiet of the country +out at the front, with not a sound except the birds and the +bellow of a cow in the distance as it might be, and the shrapnel +making little clouds in the heavens, and the shells whistling, +and maybe a yell or two when one of us was hit; and would you +believe it, sir, I complained of the noise and wanted to have a +peaceful hour at home. Well: them two has taught me a lesson. +This morning, sir, when I was telling the boys here how I was +longing to be back taking my part for king and country with the +others, I was lying, as you well knew, sir. Now I can go and say +it with a clear conscience. Some likes war's alarums; and some +likes home life. I've tried both, sir; and I'm for war's alarums +now. I always was a quiet lad by natural disposition. + +SIR PEARCE. Strictly between ourselves, O'Flaherty, and as one +soldier to another [O'Flaherty salutes, but without stiffening], +do you think we should have got an army without conscription if +domestic life had been as happy as people say it is? + +O'FLAHERTY. Well, between you and me and the wall, Sir Pearce, I +think the less we say about that until the war's over, the +better. + +He winks at the General. The General strikes a match. The thrush +sings. A jay laughs. The conversation drops. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg's O'Flaherty V.C., by George Bernard Shaw + |