The Playboy of the Western World - J. M. Synge (romantic love story reading .TXT) 📗

at noonday in her narrow grave, there were five men, aye, and six men, stretched out retching speechless on the holy stones. Christy Uneasily, watching Pegeen. Is that the truth? Michael It is then, and aren’t you a louty schemer to go burying your poor father unbeknownst when you’d a right to throw him on the crupper of a Kerry mule and drive him westwards, like holy Joseph in the days gone by, the way we could have given him a decent burial, and not have him rotting beyond, and not a Christian drinking a smart drop to the glory of his soul? Christy Gruffly. It’s well enough he’s lying, for the likes of him. Michael Slapping him on the back. Well, aren’t you a hardened slayer? It’ll be a poor thing for the household man where you go sniffing for a female wife; and Pointing to Shawn. look beyond at that shy and decent Christian I have chosen for my daughter’s hand, and I after getting the gilded dispensation this day for to wed them now. Christy And you’ll be wedding them this day, is it? Michael Drawing himself up. Aye. Are you thinking, if I’m drunk itself, I’d leave my daughter living single with a little frisky rascal is the like of you? Pegeen Breaking away from Shawn. Is it the truth the dispensation’s come? Michael Triumphantly. Father Reilly’s after reading it in gallous Latin, and “It’s come in the nick of time,” says he; “so I’ll wed them in a hurry, dreading that young gaffer who’d capsize the stars.” Pegeen Fiercely. He’s missed his nick of time, for it’s that lad, Christy Mahon, that I’m wedding now. Michael Loudly with horror. You’d be making him a son to me, and he wet and crusted with his father’s blood? Pegeen Aye. Wouldn’t it be a bitter thing for a girl to go marrying the like of Shaneen, and he a middling kind of a scarecrow, with no savagery or fine words in him at all? Michael Gasping and sinking on a chair. Oh, aren’t you a heathen daughter to go shaking the fat of my heart, and I swamped and drownded with the weight of drink? Would you have them turning on me the way that I’d be roaring to the dawn of day with the wind upon my heart? Have you not a word to aid me, Shaneen? Are you not jealous at all? Shaneen In great misery. I’d be afeard to be jealous of a man did slay his da. Pegeen Well, it’d be a poor thing to go marrying your like. I’m seeing there’s a world of peril for an orphan girl, and isn’t it a great blessing I didn’t wed you, before himself came walking from the west or south? Shawn It’s a queer story you’d go picking a dirty tramp up from the highways of the world. Pegeen Playfully. And you think you’re a likely beau to go straying along with, the shiny Sundays of the opening year, when it’s sooner on a bullock’s liver you’d put a poor girl thinking than on the lily or the rose? Shawn And have you no mind of my weight of passion, and the holy dispensation, and the drift of heifers I am giving, and the golden ring? Pegeen I’m thinking you’re too fine for the like of me, Shawn Keogh of Killakeen, and let you go off till you’d find a radiant lady with droves of bullocks on the plains of Meath, and herself bedizened in the diamond jewelleries of Pharaoh’s ma. That’d be your match, Shaneen. So God save you now! She retreats behind Christy. Shawn Won’t you hear me telling you⁠ ⁠… ? Christy With ferocity. Take yourself from this, young fellow, or I’ll maybe add a murder to my deeds today. Michael Springing up with a shriek. Murder is it? Is it mad yous are? Would you go making murder in this place, and it piled with poteen for our drink tonight? Go on to the foreshore if it’s fighting you want, where the rising tide will wash all traces from the memory of man. Pushing Shawn towards Christy. Shawn Shaking himself free, and getting behind Michael. I’ll not fight him, Michael James. I’d liefer live a bachelor, simmering in passions to the end of time, than face a lepping savage the like of him has descended from the Lord knows where. Strike him yourself, Michael James, or you’ll lose my drift of heifers and my blue bull from Sneem. Michael Is it me fight him, when it’s father-slaying he’s bred to now? Pushing Shawn. Go on you fool and fight him now. Shawn Coming forward a little. Will I strike him with my hand? Michael Take the loy is on your western side. Shawn I’d be afeard of the gallows if I struck him with that. Christy Taking up the loy. Then I’ll make you face the gallows or quit off from this. Shawn flies out of the door. Christy Well, fine weather be after him, Going to Michael, coaxingly. and I’m thinking you wouldn’t wish to have that quaking blackguard in your house at all. Let you give us your blessing and hear her swear her faith to me, for I’m mounted on the spring-tide of the stars of luck, the way it’ll be good for any to have me in the house. Pegeen At the other side of Michael. Bless us now, for I swear to God I’ll wed him, and I’ll not renege. Michael Standing up in the centre, holding on to both of them. It’s the will of God, I’m thinking, that all should win an easy or a cruel end, and it’s the will of God that all should rear up lengthy families for the nurture of the earth. What’s a single man, I ask you, eating a bit in one house and drinking a sup in another, and he with no place of