FullReads

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!