MR. ROONEY
| Kiss you? In public? On the platform? Before the boy?
Have you taken leave of your senses?
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Jerry wouldn’t mind. Would you, Jerry?
|
JERRY
| No, Ma’am.
|
MRS. ROONEY
| How is your poor father?
|
JERRY
| They took him away, Ma’am.
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Then you are all alone?
|
JERRY
| Yes, Ma’am.
|
MR. ROONEY
| Why are you here? You did not notify me.
|
MRS. ROONEY
| I wanted to give you a surprise. For your birthday.
|
MR. ROONEY
| My birthday?
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Don’t you remember? I wished you your happy returns in the bathroom.
|
MR. ROONEY
| I did not hear you.
|
MRS. ROONEY
| But I gave you a tie! You have it on!
[
Pause
.]
|
MR. ROONEY
| How old am I now?
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Now never mind about that. Come.
|
MR. ROONEY
| Why did you not cancel the boy? Now we shall have to give him a penny.
|
MRS. ROONEY
| [
miserably
] I forgot! I had such a time getting here! Such horrid nasty people! [
Pause. Pleading
.] Be nice to me, Dan, be nice to me today!
|
MR. ROONEY
| Give the boy a penny.
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Here are two halfpennies, Jerry. Run along now and buy yourself a nice gobstopper.
|
JERRY
| Yes, Ma’am.
|
MR. ROONEY
| Come for me on Monday, if I am still alive.
|
JERRY
| Yessir.
[
He runs off
.]
|
MR. ROONEY
| We could have saved sixpence. We have saved fivepence.
[
Pause
.] But at what cost?
[
They move off along platform arm in arm. Dragging feet, panting, thudding stick
.]
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Are you not well?
[
They halt, on Mr. Rooney’s initiative
.]
|
MR. ROONEY
| Once and for all, do not ask me to speak and move at the same time. I shall not say this in this life again.
[
They move off. Dragging feet, etc. They halt at top of steps
.]
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Are you not—
|
MR. ROONEY
| Let us get this precipice over.
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Put your arm around me.
|
MR. ROONEY
| Have you been drinking again? [
Pause
.] You are quivering like a blancmange. [
Pause
.] Are you in a condition to lead me? [
Pause
.] We shall fall into the ditch.
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Oh, Dan! It will be like old times!
|
MR. ROONEY
| Pull yourself together or I shall send Tommy for the cab. Then instead of having saved sixpence, no, fivepence,
we shall have lost . . . [
calculating mumble
] . . . two and three less six one and no plus one one and no plus three one and nine and one ten and three two and one . . . [
normal voice
] two and one, we shall be the poorer to the tune of two and one. [
Pause
.] Curse that sun, it has gone in. What is the day doing?
[
Wind
.]
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Shrouding, shrouding, the best of it is past. [
Pause
.] Soon the first great drops will fall splashing in the dust.
|
MR. ROONEY
| And yet the glass was firm. [
Pause
.] Let us hasten home and sit before the fire. We shall draw the blinds. You will read to me. I think Effie is going to commit adultery with the Major. [
Brief drag of feet
.] Wait! [
Feet cease. Stick tapping at steps
.] I have been up and down these steps five thousand times and still I do not know how many there are. When I think there are six there are four or five or seven or eight and when I remember there are five there three or four or six or seven and when finally I realize there are seven there are five or six or eight or nine. Sometimes I wonder if they do not change them in the night. [
Pause. Irritably
.] Well? How many do you make them today?
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Do not ask me to count, Dan, not now.
|
MR. ROONEY
| Not count! One of the few satisfactions in life!
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Not steps, Dan, please, I always get them wrong. Then you might fall on your wound and I would have that on my manure-heap on top of everything else. No, just cling to me and all will be well.
[
Confused noise of their descent. Panting, stumbling, ejaculations, curses. Silence
.]
|
MR. ROONEY
| Well! That is what you call well!
|
MRS. ROONEY
| We are down. And little the worse. [
Silence. A donkey brays. Silence
.] That was a true donkey. Its father and mother were donkeys.
[
Silence
.]
|
MR. ROONEY
| Do you know what it is, I think I shall retire.
|
MRS. ROONEY
| [
appalled
] Retire! And live at home? On your grant!
|
MR. ROONEY
| Never tread these cursed steps again. Trudge this hellish road for the last time. Sit at home on the remnants of my bottom counting the hours—till the next meal. [
Pause
.] The very thought puts life in me! Forward, before it dies!
[
They move on. Dragging feet, panting, thudding stick
.]
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Now mind, here is the path. . . . Up! . . . Well done! Now we are in safety and a straight run home.
|
MR. ROONEY
| [
without halting, between gasps
] A straight . . . run! . . . She calls that . . . a straight . . . run! . . .
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Hush! Do not speak as you go along, you know it is not good for your coronary. [
Dragging steps, etc
.] Just concentrate on putting one foot before the next or whatever the expression is. [
Dragging feet, etc
.] That is the way, now we are doing nicely. [
Dragging feet, etc. They suddenly halt, on Mrs. Rooney’s initiative
.] Heavens! I knew there was something! With all the excitement! I forgot!
|
MR. ROONEY
| [
quietly
] Good God!
|
MRS. ROONEY
| But you must know, Dan, of course, you were on it.
Whatever happened? Tell me!
|
MR. ROONEY
| I have never known anything to happen.
|
MRS. ROONEY
| But you must—
|
MR. ROONEY
| [
violently
] All this stopping and starting again is devilish, devilish! I get a little way on me and begin to be carried along when suddenly you stop dead! Two hundred pounds of unhealthy fat! What possessed you to come out at all? Let go of me!
|
MRS. ROONEY
| [
in great agitation
] No, I must know, we won’t stir from here till you tell me. Fifteen minutes late! On a thirty minute run! It’s unheard of!
|
MR. ROONEY
| I know nothing. Let go of me before I shake you off.
|
MRS. ROONEY
| But you must know! You were on it! Was it at the terminus? Did you leave on time? Or was it on the line? [
Pause
.] Did something happen on the line? [
Pause
.] Dan! [
Brokenly
.] Why won’t you tell me! [
Silence. They move off. Dragging feet, etc. They halt. Pause
.]
|
MR. ROONEY
| Poor Maddy! [
Pause. Children’s cries
.] What was that?
[
Pause for Mrs. Rooney to ascertain
.]
|
MRS. ROONEY
| The Lynch twins jeering at us. [
Cries
.]
|
MR. ROONEY
| Will they pelt us with mud today, do you suppose?
[
Cries
.]
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Let us turn and face them. [
Cries. They turn. Silence
.]
Threaten them with your stick. [
Silence
.] They have run away.
[
Pause
.]
|
MR. ROONEY
| Did you ever wish to kill a child? [
Pause
.] Nip some young doom in the bud. [
Pause
.] Many a time at night, in winter, on the black road home, I nearly attacked the boy. [
Pause
.] Poor Jerry! [
Pause
.] What restrained me then? [
Pause
.] Not fear of man. [
Pause
.] Shall we go on backwards now a little?
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Backwards?
|
MR. ROONEY
| Yes. Or you forwards and I backwards. The perfect pair.
Like Dante’s damned, with their faces arsy-versy. Our tears will water our bottoms.
|
MRS. ROONEY
| What is the matter, Dan? Are you not well?
|
MR. ROONEY
| Well! Did you ever know me to be well? The day you met me I should have been in bed. The day you proposed to me the doctors gave me up. You knew that, did you not? The night you married me they came for me with an ambulance. You have not forgotten that, I suppose? [
Pause
.] No, I cannot be said to be well. But I am no worse. Indeed I am better than I was. The loss of my sight was a great fillip. If I could go deaf and dumb I think I might pant on to be a hundred. Or have I
done so? [
Pause
.] Was I a hundred today? [
Pause
.] Am I a hundred, Maddy?
[
Silence
.]
|
MRS. ROONEY
| All is still. No living soul in sight. There is no one to ask. The world is feeding. The wind—[
brief wind
]—scarcely stirs the leaves and the birds—[
brief chirp
]—are tired singing. The cows— [
brief moo
]—and sheep—[
brief baa
]—ruminate in silence. The dogs— [
brief bark
]—are hushed and the hens—[
brief cackle
]—sprawl torpid in the dust. We are alone. There is no one to ask.
[
Silence
]
|
MR. ROONEY
| [
clearing his throat, narrative tone
] We drew out on the tick of time, I can vouch for that. I was—
|
MRS. ROONEY
| How can you vouch for it?
|
MR. ROONEY
| [
normal tone, angrily
] I can vouch for it, I tell you! Do you want my relation or don’t you? [
Pause. Narrative tone
.] On the tick of time. I had the compartment to myself, as usual. At least I hope so, for I made no attempt to restrain myself. My mind— [
Normal tone
.] But why do we not sit down somewhere? Are we afraid we should never rise again?
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Sit down on what?
|
MR. ROONEY
| On a bench, for example.
|
MRS. ROONEY
| There is no bench.
|
MR. ROONEY
| Then on a bank, let us sink down upon a bank.
|
MRS. ROONEY
| There is no bank.
|
MR. ROONEY
| Then we cannot. [
Pause
.] I dream of other roads, in other lands. Of another home, another— [
He hesitates
.] —another home. [
Pause
.] What was I trying to say?
|
MRS. ROONEY
| Something about your mind.
|
MR. ROONEY
| [
startled
] My mind? Are you sure? [
Pause. Incredulous
.] My mind? . . . [
Pause
.] Ah yes. [
Narrative tone
.] Alone in the compartment my mind began to work, as so often
after office hours, on the way home, in the train, to the lilt of the bogeys. Your season-ticket, I said, costs you twelve pounds a year and you earn, on an average, seven and six a day, that is to say barely enough to keep you alive and twitching with the help of food, drink, tobacco and periodicals until you finally reach home and fall into bed. Add to this—or subtract from it—rent, stationery, various subscriptions, tramfares to and fro, light and heat, permits and licences, hairtrims and shaves, tips to escorts, upkeep of premises and appearances, and a thousand unspecifiable sundries, and it is clear that by lying at home in bed, day and night, winter and summer, with a change of pyjamas once a fortnight, you would add very considerably to your income. Business, I said— [
A cry. Pause. Again. Normal tone
.] Did I hear a cry?
|
