Juno and the Paycock by Seán O'Casey

Johnny: (returning). Is he gone?
Mary: Yes. [The two men re-enter.]
First Man: We can't wait any longer for t'oul' fella — sorry, Miss, but we have to live as well as th' nex' man. [They carry out some things.]
Johnny: Oh, isn't this terrible! — I suppose you told him everything — couldn't you have waited for a few days? — he'd have stopped th' takin' of the things, if you'd kep' your mouth shut. Are you burnin' to tell every one of the shame you've brought on us?
Mary: (snatching up her hat and coat). Oh, this is unbearable! [She rushes out.
First Man: (re-entering). We'll take the chest o' drawers next — it's the heaviest.

[The votive light flickers for a moment, and goes out.]
Johnny: (in a cry of fear). Mother o' God, the light's afther goin' out!
First Man: You put the win' up me the way you bawled that time. The oil's all gone, that's all.
Johnny: (with an agonizing cry). Mother o' God, there's a shot I'm afther gettin'!
First Man: What's wrong with you, man? Is it a fit you're takin'?
Johnny: I'm afther feelin' a pain in me breast, like the tearin' by of a bullet!
First Man: He's goin' mad — it's a wondher they'd leave a chap like that here by himself.

[Two Irregulars enter swiftly; they carry revolvers; one goes over to Johhny; the other covers the two furniture men.]
First Irregular: (to the men, quietly and incisively). Who are you? — what are yous doin' here? — quick!

[The two men turn their faces to the wall, with their hands up.]
First Man: Removin' furniture that's not paid for.
Irregular: Get over to the other end of the room an' turn your faces to the wall — quick!
Second Irregular: Come on, Sean Boyle, you're wanted; some of us have a word to say to you.
Johnny: I'm sick, I can't — what do you want with me?
Second Irregular: Come on, come on; we've a distance to go, an' haven't much time — come on.
Johnny: I'm an oul' comrade — yous wouldn't shoot an oul' comrade.
Second Irregular: Poor Tancred was an oul' comrade o' yours, but you didn't think o' that when you gave him away to the gang that sent him to his grave. But we've no time to waste; come on — here, Dermot, ketch his arm. (To Johnny) Have you your beads?
Johnny: Me beads! Why do you ass me that, why do you ass me that?
Second Irregular: Go on, go on, march!
Johnny: Are yous goin' to do in a comrade? — look at me arm, I lost it for Ireland.
Second Irregular: Commandant Tancred lost his life for Ireland.
Johnny: Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on me! Mother o' God, pray for me — be with me now in the agonies o' death! — Hail Mary, full o' grace — the Lord is — with Thee.

[They drag out Johnny Boyle, and the curtain falls. When it rises again the most of the furniture is gone. Mary and Mrs. Boyle, one on each side, are sitting in a darkened room, by the fire; it is an hour later.]

Mrs. Boyle: I'll not wait much longer — what did they bring him away in the mothor for? Nugent says he thinks they had guns — is me throubles never goin' to be over? — If anything ud happen to poor Johnny, I think I'd lose me mind — I'll go to the Police Station, surely they ought to be able to do somethin'.

[Below is heard the sound of voices.]
Mrs. Boyle: Whisht, is that something? Maybe, it's your father, though when I left him in Foley's he was hardly able to life his head. Whisht!

[A knock at the door, and the voice of Mrs. Madigan, speaking very softly]:
Mrs. Madigan: Mrs. Boyle, Mrs. Boyle. [Mrs. Boyle opens the door.
Mrs. Madigan: Oh, Mrs. Boyle, God an' His Blessed Mother be with you this night!
Mrs. Boyle: (calmly). What is it, Mrs. Madigan? It's Johnny — something about Johnny.
Mrs. Madigan: God send it's not, God send it's not Johnny!
Mrs. Boyle: Don't keep me waitin', Mrs. Madigan; I've gone through so much lately that I feel able for anything.
Mrs. Madigan: Two polismen below wantin' you.
Mrs. Boyle: Wantin' me; an' why do they want me?
Mrs. Madigan: Some poor fella's been found, an' they think it's, it's...
Mrs. Boyle: Johnny, Johnny!
Mary: (with her arms round her mother). Oh, mother, mother, me poor, darlin' mother.
Mrs. Boyle: Hush, hush, darlin'; you'll shortly have your own throuble to bear. (To Mrs. Madigan) An' why do the polis think it's Johnny, Mrs. Madigan?
Mrs. Madigan: Because one o' the doctors knew him when he was attendin' with his poor arm.
Mrs. Boyle: Oh, it's thrue, then; it's Johnny, it's me son, me own son!
Mary: Oh, it's thrue, it's thrue what Jerry Devine says — there isn't a God, there isn't a God; if there was He wouldn't let these things happen!
Mrs. Boyle: Mary, you mustn't say them things. We'll want all the help we can get from God an' His Blessed Mother now! These things have nothin' to do with the Will o' God. Ah, what can God do agen the stupidity o' men!
Mrs. Madigan: The polis want you to go with them to the hospital to see the poor body — they're waitin' below.
Mrs. Boyle: We'll go. Come, Mary, an' we'll never come back here agen. Let your father furrage for himself now; I've done all I could an' it was all no use — he'll be hopeless till the end of his days. I've got a little room in me sisther's where we'll stop till your throuble is over, an' then we'll work together for the sake of the baby.
Mary: My poor little child that'll have no father!
Mrs. Boyle: It'll have what's far betther — it'll have two mothers.
A Rough Voice shouting from below: Are yous goin' to keep us waitin' for yous all night?
Mrs. Madigan: (going to the door, and shouting down). Take you hour, there, take your hour! If yous are in such a hurry, skip off, then, for nobody wants you here — if they did yous wouldn't be found. For you're the same as yous were undher the British Government — never where yous are wanted! As far as I can see, the Polis as Polis, in this city, is Null an' Void!
Mrs. Boyle: We'll go, Mary, we'll go; you to see your poor dead brother, an' me to see me poor dead son!
Mary: I dhread it, mother, I dhread it!
Mrs. Boyle: I forgot, Mary, I forgot; your poor oul' selfish mother was only thinkin' of herself. No, no, you mustn't come — it wouldn't be good for you. You go on to me sisther's an' I'll face th' ordeal meself. Maybe I didn't feel sorry enough for Mrs. Tancred when her poor son was found as Johnny's been found now — because he was a Diehard! Ah, why didn't I remember that then he wasn't a Diehard or a Stater, but only a poor dead son! It's well I remember all that she said — an' it's my turn to say it now : What was the pain I suffered, Johnny, bringin' you into the world to carry you to your cradle, to the pains I'll suffer carryin' you out o' the world to bring you to your grave! Mother o' God, Mother o' God, have pity on us all! Blessed Virgin, where were you when me darlin' son was riddled with bullets, when me darlin' son was riddled with bullets? Sacred Heart o' Jesus, take away our hearts o' stone, and give us hearts o' flesh! Take away this murdherin' hate, an' give us Thine own eternal love! [They all go slowly out.

[There is a pause; then a sound of shuffling steps on the stairs outside. The door opens and Boyle and Joxer, both of them very drunk, enter.]
Boyle: I'm able to go no farther — Two polis, ey — what were they doin' here, I wondher? — Up to no good, anyhow — an Juno an' that lovely daughter o' mine with them. (Taking a sixpence from his pocket and looking at it) Wan single, solitary tanner left out of all I borreyed – (He lets it fall.) The last o' the Mohicans — The blinds is down, Joxer, the blinds is down!
Joxer: (walking unsteadily across the room, and anchoring at the bed). Put all — your throubles — in your oul' kit-bag — an' smile — smile — smile!
Boyle: The counthry'll have to steady itself — it's goin' — to hell — Where'r all — the chairs — gone to — steady itself, Joxer — Chairs'll — have to — steady themselves — No matther — what any one may — say — Irelan' sober — is Irelan' — free.
Joxer: (stretching himself on the bed). Chains — an' — slaveree — that's a darlin' motto — a daaarlin' — motto!
Boyle: If th' worst comes — to th' worse — I can join a — flyin' — column — I done — me bit — in Easther Week — had no business — to — be — there — but Captain Boyle's Captain Boyle!
Joxer: Breathes there a man with soul — so — de...ad — this — me — o...wn, me nat...ive l...an'!
Boyle: (subsiding into a sitting position on the floor). Commandant Kelly died — in them — arms — Joxer — Tell me Volunteer Butties — says he — that — I died for — Irelan'!
Joxer: D'jever rade Willie — Reilly — an' his own — Colleen — Bawn? It's a darlin' story, a daarlin' story!
Boyle: I'm telling you — Joxer — th' whole worl's — in a terr...ible state o' — chassis!

CURTAIN