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The Rising of the MoonGregory, Lady Augusta

Lady Gregory was born Isabella Augusta Persse in 1852 in Roxborough House, near Loughrea, Co. Galway.At twenty-eight she married Sir W. H. Gregory, then a sixty-three year-old widower, former governor of Ceylon and Trustee of the National Gallery and MP for Galway, and who had been responsible for measures which compounded the misery suffered in the Great Famine (1846-1851). They settled in London, where the Gregorys’ salon was frequented by Browning, Tennyson, Millais, Henry James, and others. They summered at Coole Park, near Gort, Co. Galway, in the barony of Kiltartan which she would later make famous.Her husband died in 1892, and shortly afterwards, her first visit to Inisheer, one of the Aran Islands, inspired her to learn Irish and the Hiberno-English dialect of Kiltartan. She met W. B. Yeats in 1896, and commenced collecting folklore in Kiltartan region with him. She also established an Irish class at Coole schoolhouse. She met Douglas Hyde, the Gaelic scholar and future first President of Ireland in 1897. With Edward Martyn and Yeats, she founded the Irish Literary Theatre, 1899-1901, later the Abbey Theatre Company, of which she held the patent and which she directed with Yeats and J.M. Synge from 1904.Her first publication was Poets and Dreamers (Dublin, Hodges & Figgis/London, John Murray, 1903), containing translations of Raftery, folk-tales, and translations of short plays by Douglas Hyde. This was followed by Gods and Fighting Men (With a Preface by W.B. Yeats. London, John Murray, 1904), based on mythological cycle of the Irish Kings; A Book of Saints and Wonders (1906), which narrates in Kiltartanese the lore of St Brigit, St Patrick, St Columcille, the voyages of Maeldun and Brendan, and the Old Woman of Beare.She began writing plays by helping Yeats with the peasant dialogue of his plays and in effect co-authored his early plays, including Cathleen Ni Houlihan.

Her first play was Twenty Five (Dublin, The Abbey, 1904). Altogether she wrote nineteen original plays and seven translations for the Abbey between 1904-1912, including as The Doctor in Spite of Himself (1906), The Rogueries of Scapin (1908), The Miser (1909), and The Would-Be Gentleman (1923), included in Irish Folk History Plays (1912); her comedies include Hyacinth Halvey (1906); The Image (1909); Damer’s Gold (1912), and MacDonough’s Wife (1912), written aboard ship en route to America.She published The Kiltartan History Book (Dublin, Maunsel & Co, 1909); The Kiltartan Wonder Book (Maunsel & Co, 1910); and issued a history of the national theatre as Our Irish Theatre: A Chapter in Autobiography (New York, G. Putnam’s Sons, 1913).On a second tour of America in 1915, she wrote Shanwalla (London, Putnam, 1915); and Visions and Beliefs in the West of Ireland, 2 vols. (New York and London, G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1920).Her monologue, An Old Woman Remembers (1923), was recited by Maire O’Neill in the Abbey. Her late plays include The Story Brought By Brigid (Abbey 1923); Sancha’s Master (1927) and Dave (1927).She played Cathleen Ní Houlihan in three performances of the play shortly after her 67th birthday in 1919, the year she published The Kiltartan Poetry Book: Prose Translations from the Irish (New York and London, G.P. Putnam’s Sons, The Knickerbocker Press).She died on May 22, 1932, at her home in Coole Park, County Galway

The Rising of the MoonThe Rising of the Moon premiered at the Abbey Theatre in 1907. The play opens with three Irish policemen, obviously working for the British authorities, who are on a man hunt for an escaped political prisoner. The policemen discuss the large reward money they will receive for the criminal’s capture and as two of the policemen go off, the Sergeant stays to guard the harbor where he thinks a ship is bound to take the rebel to freedom. The Sergeant meets a poor peasant man who passes the time singing songs of Ireland. The singer engages the Sergeant in conversation which drifts towards the

past. The Sergeant begins to think of the fate of the fugitive in comparison to his own. He thinks about the friends of his youth, and the circumstances which could have placed him in the position of hiding from the police in the dark. The Sergeant undergoes a change of heart with the disguised rebel begins to sing the song of the Fenian Movement, composed around 1865, of The Rising of the Moon. So moved is the sergeant by memories of his own patriotic youth that he allows the criminal to escape and gives up his chance of the reward and his duty towards the British government. This play shows mistaken identity through disguise; in this case a wig and a hat. The Sergeant does not recognize his quarry because of Walsh’s costume. Also, the wearing of the disguise enables Walsh to get close to his enemy so that the Sergeant can unveil his own identity with the removal of Walsh’s wig. Eventually, when the Sergeant discovers that Walsh is indeed the criminal he has been seeking, he performs his complicity with the nationalist movement by hiding Walsh’s wig and hat from the other policeman. After the policemen leave, the Sergeant again performs his own collusion by giving Walsh back his disguise so the rebel can continue to delude others. In this way, the disguise performs the entire journey towards the discovery of the Sergeant’s “true” identity underneath his mask of law and duty; the use and exchange of the disguise are similar to the exchanges of identity between the Irish man representing British rule and the Irish man representing the rebellion.

Unity among the Irish people in The Rising of the Moon. Lady Gregory’s The Rising of the Moon is an explicitly political play dealing with the relation between England and Ireland trying to fight for freedom from English rule. The history of English domination of Ireland is very long. Lady Gregory presents characters who are torn between duty and patriotism and are ultimately united together as Irishmen through the folklore, myths and songs which they share as a nation. The thought of being the citizen of a country takes

precedence over one’s feelings of duty towards a foreign nation. Patriotism is the unifying force among the people.The Ballad Singer (Rebel) and the Sergeant are the major characters through whom the issue of unity among Irish people is explored. Though the sergeant is on the look out for the rebel he doesn’t forget that he himself is an Irish citizen. In the beginning he is prepared to track down the rebel because he is a sergeant and his duty to England demands that he should be loyal. Since he is also a bread winner of the family the reward of $100 will be a great help for him. However, as the play progresses his sympathy towards the rebel increases and he then allows the rebels to escape. When the ballad singer misses certain words and phrases, the sergeant fills in the gaps. The sergeant now feels more as an Irishmen than as the duty officer. His sense of duty towards England gets slackened and the feeling of nationality is so overwhelming. He is reminded of the days when he was like the rebel.Thus, by bringing together a rebel and a police officer, Gregory is highlighting the unity of Irish people. No matter what they do and where they are first and foremost they are the people of Ireland. The people place their nationality above everything else. The songs and ballads which form a part of Irish cultural heritage are used as powerful source for bringing about unity among the Irish people.

The title of Lady Gregory’s play, The Rising of the Moon, is also the title of an Irish national song. This is the reader’s first hint that she is writing about Irish Nationalism. There are three major themes running through just seven pages; all of them center on the question of a new Irish national culture. First, we notice the theme of inversion in social norms. Second, Lady Gregory acknowledges the importance of loyalty in Irish nationalism and explores the tension between different loyalties. Lastly, the tensions between Law and Nation are highlighted. As the two main characters grapple with the tensions of inversions, loyalty, and the idea of Law versus Nation, the reader begins to wonder if not everything is dichotomous. The play shows that harmony can be found in the midst of great tensions, and

promotes songs and community as the way to achieve harmony in the new Irish nationalism.

The play has a simple structure, is only seven pages long, and has only four characters. The brevity of the play allows for the message to be direct and clear. The Sergeant and the Ragged Man are the two main characters. They are also antagonists, by all social norms. The Sergeant stands for what is good, law and order, and the old English way. The Ragged Man stands for the bad, rebellion, and the New Irish Way. The Sergeant is keeping watch for a criminal, and a Ragged Man comes up to him. The two begin speaking, and we can see the Sergeant remembering his youth and his old Irish tendencies. The Man reveals that he himself is the criminal, and the Sergeant foregoes a raise and a reward to help the Man escape. Throughout the play we see how the two men are drawn to each other. Perhaps they are not antagonists after all, but two characters of seemingly impossible harmony.

The two main characters work as caricatures, not as individual people. Their descriptions are purposefully vague, so that the reader can easily identify with them as generic Irishmen. The Sergeant is not described physically, and he does not even have a Christian name. Known only as Sergeant, he spends much of the introductory segment stressing his duty and loyalty to the law. The Ragged Man is also a personification: “Dark hair—dark eyes—smooth face, height five feet five—there’s not much to take hold of in that”, says the Sergeant upon reading the Man’s wanted notice (50). This description is so nondescript that it is comical: but we soon learn that this is meaningful. Later, the policeman guesses, “He must have had some friends amongst the gaolers (51).” This quote further implies that the Man is one of the People—he is not distinctly individual because what Ireland needs is a community, a group of people, not one hero. Although we learn later that his name is Jimmy Walsh, he is referred to for the duration of the play as “Man” and this is a significant message from Lady Gregory. She does not want her readers to think of the rebel as a hero, but rather, to realize that “the people” are the hero.

She wants to encourage people to mobilize and to rely on community. Furthermore, it is telling that the only heroes in the play are female, they are fictional, and they are in folk songs. The Man sings of “Granuaile and Shan Von Vocht”, two women in Irish nationalist folk songs. This is a very non-standard view of the hero: it is not a man, and it is not even real, but rather, an ideal. This is further reason why the two main characters lack description: they are a face in the crowd that the reader can identify with, but they are not heroes.

Throughout the play, there are several inversions between good and bad, and up and down. The Sergeant would represent good and up, the Man bad and down. At the beginning, the Sergeant says, “Haven’t we a whole country depending on us for law and order? It’s those that are down would be up and those that are up would be down, if it wasn’t for us (51).” Thus, he represents the status quo and the current social order. Yet, when the man says, “But when I saw a man in trouble, I never could help trying to get him out of it” (54), he inverts the social norms: showing the criminal as the helper, and the police as the one in need.

The Sergeant later puts himself in the Man’s shoes, saying perhaps he could be the one escaping from prison and attacking police, if things had gone differently in his youth (55). As he changes places with the Man, his values are inverted. At the end of the play, when the Man is escaping after the Sergeant’s aid, he says, “Maybe I’ll be able to do as much for you when the small rise up and the big fall down… when we all change places at the rising of the Moon (57).” The criminal has become good, and the Sergeant is left grappling with his own values. This suggests that inversion is both good and necessary for Irish nationalism. Lady Gregory is suggesting that there is less of a binary between good and bad and up and down—that the real distinction is between Nation and Other. The Irish should focus less on the tensions between themselves, and focus instead on their shared heritage.

Both of the characters are loyal to their own ideal—it is evident that loyalty is an admirable trait, but it is less apparent where this

loyalty should be directed. The Sergeant is loyal to the law, the norm, and the English, and the Man is loyal to the people, to change and revolution, and to the Irish. The Sergeant knows that there is both a monetary reward for turning in the Man, and also a social reward in the form of a probable promotion. He has a duty to the force, and probably to his family, and he is loyal to them. The Man is loyal to the people: this is shown by his jailing, but also by his knowledge of folk songs. The Sergeant hates music, and resists every time the Man speaks: we can assume that hearing folk songs makes the Sergeant feel guilty for abandoning Irish nationalism. Eventually, the Sergeant sings “Granuaile” and this is the moment when the two begin to work together. As the Man escapes by boat, this line of distinction is blurred: we no longer know if the Sergeant is the enemy, nor what the Sergeant is loyal to.

This leads us to the apparent dichotomy between Law and Nation. As the new Irish culture arises, tension between the two heightens. At first glance, they don’t inform one another; they’re antagonistic. We see that the Sergeant is upholding the law, but by doing so, he is necessarily keeping Nationalism down. When he decides to help the Man escape, he is breaking the law and aiding Nationalism. The Sergeant’s aid shows that the tension between law and nation can be overcome. When the Man tells the Sergeant, “I wouldn’t be in your shoes if the reward was ten times as much (52)”, we assume this can hint at betrayal or irony, but it more accurately shows the Man’s empathy. When the Man tells the Sergeant that the man in the wanted notice knows all weapons and is prone to attack Sergeants and police at night, we may assume this is foreshadowing, or a type of intimidation. Upon further reading, we see that it is an ironic inversion, and the real foreshadowing comes when the Man says, “And maybe one night, after you had been singing, if the other boys had told you some plan they had, some plan to free the country, you might have joined with them… and maybe it is you might be in trouble now (55).”

Unlike Synge, who relies on violence and ritual, Lady Gregory suggests that a new culture is formed through song and community.

She does not deny the tensions apparent in the country, but she attempts to utilize tension to promote community. The other themes in the play, loyalty, new rules from inversion, law, and nationality fit into this framework nicely. Her focus on the people is a much calmer approach than some of her contemporaries, and arguably, more sustainable. It may work well to found a new culture or a revolution based on violence but a culture cannot rely on violence for its vitality. However, songs and community are a way for all people to be united, and remain united, both before and after the fight for freedom. Cultural movements, like folk songs, may be the only way to bring two opposite countrymen together. And those very songs show that the men may not be opposites after all, encouraging unity in Irish culture. The tensions between law and nation, inversions, and loyalty may not be tensions after all, but rather, opportunities for harmony.THE RISING OF THE MOON is a beautiful one-act little play, written in 1904 by Lady Augusta Gregory who is best known for irish theme and lifelike characterization. In fact, Her characters who are specialized in realistic depictions of their native land are not at all romanticized, but are very realistic--one of her great talents was being able to catch the vocabulary, speech mannerisms and rhythms of the Irish people, which she studied as she traveled throughout Ireland, seeking its rich oral tradition. In THE RISING OF THE MOON, one sees the deep conflict between the hearts of the Irish people, even those hired as policemen (who also longed secretly, in their heart of hearts, for freedom, as often as not), and their duty to maintain the status quo, with all the English gold and power and "good common sense" behind it.The play opens with three Irish policemen, obviously working for the British authorities, who are on a man hunt for an escaped political prisoner. The policemen discuss the large reward money they will receive for the criminal’s capture and as two of the policemen go off, the Sergeant stays to guard the harbor where he thinks a ship is bound to take the rebel to freedom.

The Sergeant then meets a poor peasant man who passes the time singing songs of Ireland. The singer engages the Sergeant in conversation which drifts towards the past. The Sergeant begins to think of the fate of the fugitive in comparison to his own. He thinks about the friends of his youth, and the circumstances which could have placed him in the position of hiding from the police in the dark.

The Sergeant undergoes a change of heart with the disguised rebel begins to sing the song of the Fenian Movement, composed around 1865, of The Rising of the Moon. So moved is the sergeant by memories of his own patriotic youth that he allows the criminal to escape and gives up his chance of the reward and his duty towards the British government.

This play shows mistaken identity through disguise; in this case a wig and a hat. The Sergeant does not recognize his quarry because of Walsh’s costume. Also, the wearing of the disguise enables Walsh to get close to his enemy so that the Sergeant can unveil his own identity with the removal of Walsh’s wig. Eventually, when the Sergeant discovers that Walsh is indeed the criminal he has been seeking, he performs his complicity with the nationalist movement by hiding Walsh’s wig and hat from the other policeman. After the policemen leave, the Sergeant again performs his own collusion by giving Walsh back his disguise so the rebel can continue to delude others. In this way, the disguise performs the entire journey towards the discovery of the Sergeant’s “true” identity underneath his mask of law and duty; the use and exchange of the disguise are similar to the exchanges of identity between the Irish man representing British rule and the Irish man representing the rebellion.Characters DiscussedSergeantSergeant, an officer in the Royal Irish Constabulary, a force recruited from native Irishmen by the British authorities. The Sergeant reveals the ambiguities and divided loyalties of his professional role. He is a slow, cautious, and somewhat unimaginative character. Although he

is not particularly enlightened, he is also not outside the range of patriotic sentiment’s appeal. His discovery that this is the case is as much of a surprise to him as it is to the audience.The Sergeant is the second important character in Lady Gregory’s one act play “The Rising of the Moon”. He remains on the stage throughout the play and grips the attention of the audience. From the psychological point of view, he is a fascinating character.The Sergeant is an Irish man who accepted the job of a policeman and his duty requires him to against his own Country. He is a married man with a family to support. At the beginning of the play we find him in want of money. He is eager to get the reward of 100 pounds by arresting the Irish revolutionary. But is his youth, his only dream was to attain Ireland’s freedom. But he is now a loyal police officer of the foreign British Government. He helps to maintain ‘law and orders’ in the interest of this Government. He says that the whole country depends on us to keep law and order. He is keen on arresting the rebel leader even at the risk of his own life.This trend in the character of the Sergeant under goes a slow change. As soon as the Ragged man appears on the stage, a conflict starts within the mind of the police officer. The Ragged man is mare courageous and intelligent than the Sergeant. The patriotic songs and words of the Ragged man rouse patriotism in the mind of the Sergeant. He is reminded of his young days when his only dream was to free Ireland from the shackles of the foreign rule. He has now divided his own self-his loyalty to the British Government and to his Country. It is his duty as a police officer to arrest a revolutionary. As an Irish man it is also his duty to help the Irish patriots. At the end of the play the Sergeant could not have arrested a rebel leader with the help of the two police man. But far from doing that he actively arranges for his escape in a boat. Thus he sacrifices his reward and a sure chance of promotion.The Sergeant is mare intelligent than the tow police man. But his less intelligent than the Ragged man. The Sergeant is essentially good natured and true patriot. At the end of the play, he is easily transformed from a police officer to a patriot. After helping the

revolutionary leader to escape and thus loosing a 100 pounds he asked himself “I wonder, now, am I as great a fool as I think I am?”Perhaps from a worldly point of view he has been foolish; but in his heart of the hearts he realizes that he is no fool but a great patriot. It is a great sacrifice indeed on his part.The Ragged ManThe Ragged man is an interesting character of the one act play “The rising of the moon” written by Lady Gregory. He is a rebel of heroicqualities. He is a clever man, a true leader, a psychoanalyst, a true patriot and a passionate lover of his country. The man appears at the quay on the seaside in the guise of a poor ballad singer. He can sing ballads in the most appealing passion to touch the heart and the spirit of the ardent police officer. His make-up of a ballad singer is so perfect that even in the course of his conversation, smoking, singing and sitting together back to back on the barrel the Sergeant can’t suspect and detect him until he finally reveals his identity. He tries his tricks one after another to deceive intelligent and dutiful Sergeant. At first the Ragged man sings a love song to please the Sergeant but he fails to fulfill his purpose. Then he tries his second trick to hold the Sergeant w9thin his intellectual grip. He reels off a number of fictitious stories about the unusual physical strength and also about his dreadful deeds. Thus he succeeds in exercising his wit and intelligence to be fool the dutiful Sergeant. He talks and smokes with the Sergeant in a very intimate and friendly manner. The charm of his lovely talks and magic spell of his patriotic song meet the hard heart of the Sergeant in the spirit of patriotism. Finally he appeals to the patriotic feelings of the Sergeant hot to betray the friend, the Sergeant can not but turns himself into a friend of Ireland and allows to escape safely.Right from the very beginning of the play we find the Ragged man on the top of his wit. He made friends among the jailors to come out of the goal; now he makes the Sergeant friend again to escape arrest and imprisonment. Thus he proves that he is really a wonder but he does not forget the help and association of the Sergeant. So before

departure he expresses his gratitude to the Sergeant with an empathetic note of optimism, he will surely pay back the good turn done to him by the Sergeant when the rules of the day will of down and the ruled will come up at the rising of the moon.

LADY GREGORY

The Rising of the Moon

Persons

SERGEANTPOLICEMAN XPOLICEMAN BA RAGGED MAN

SCENE. Side of a quay in a seaport town. Some posts and chains. A large barrel. Enter three policemen. Moonlight.[SERGEANT, who is older than the others, crosses the stage to right and looks down steps. The others put down a pastepot and unroll a bundle of placards.]POLICEMAN B. I think this would be a good place to put up a notice. [He points to barrel.]POLICEMAN X. Better ask him. [Calls to SERGEANT. ] Will this be a good place for a placard?[No answer.]POLICEMAN B. Will we put up a notice here on the barrel?[No answer.]SERGEANT. There's a flight of steps here that leads to the water. This is a place that should be minded well. If he got down here, his friends might have a boat to meet him; they might send it in here from outside.POLICEMAN B. Would the barrel be a good place to put a notice up?SERGEANT. It might; you can put it there.[They paste the notice up.]SERGEANT [reading it]. Dark hair-dark eyes, smooth face, height five feet five-there's not much to take hold of in that-It's a pity I had no chance of seeing him before he broke out of gaol. They say he's a

wonder, that it's he makes all the plans for the whole organization. There isn't another man in Ireland would have broken gaol the way he did. He must have some friends among the gaolers.POLICEMAN B. A hundred pounds is little enough for the Government to offer for him. You may be sure any man in the force that takes him will get promotion.SERGEANT. I'll mind this place myself. I wouldn't wonder at all if he came this way. He might come slipping along there [points to side of quay], and his friends might be waiting for him there [points down steps], and once he got away it's little chance we'd have of finding him; it's maybe under a load of kelp he'd be in a fishing boat, and not one to help a married man that wants it to the reward.POLICEMAN X. And if we get him itself, nothing but abuse on our heads for it from the people, and maybe from our own relations.SERGEANT. Well, we have to do our duty in the force. Haven't we the whole country depending on us to keep law and order? It's those that are down would be up and those that are up would be down, if it wasn't for us. Well, hurry on, you have plenty of other places to placard yet, and come back here then to me. You can take the lantern. Don't be too long now. It's very lonesome here with nothing but the moon.POLICEMAN B. It's a pity we can't stop with you. The Government should have brought more police into the town, with him in gaol, and at assize time too. Well, good luck to your watch.[They go out.]SERGEANT [walks up and down once or twice and looks at placard]. A hundred pounds and promotion sure. There must be a great deal of spending in a hundred pounds. It's a pity some honest man not to be better of that.[A RAGGED MAN appears at left and tries to slip past. SERGEANT suddenly turns.]SERGEANT. Where are you going?MAN. I'm a poor ballad-singer, your honor. I thought to sell some of these [holds out bundle of ballads] to the sailors. [He goes on.]SERGEANT. Stop! Didn't I tell you to stop? You can't go on there.

MAN. Oh, very well. It's a hard thing to be poor. All the world's against the poor!SERGEANT. Who are you?MAN. You'd be as wise as myself if I told you, but I don't mind. I'm one Jimmy Walsh, a ballad-singer.SERGEANT. Jimmy Walsh? I don t know that name.MAN. Ah, sure, they know it well enough in Ennis. Were you ever in Ennis, sergeant?SERGEANT. What brought you here?MAN. Sure, it's to the assizes I came, thinking I might make a few shillings here or there. It's in the one train with the judges I came.SERGEANT. Well, if you came so far, you may as well go farther, for you'll walk out of this.MAN. I will, I will; I'll just go on where I was going. [Goes toward steps.]SERGEANT. Come back from those steps; no one has leave to pass down them tonight.MAN. I'll just sit on the top of the steps till I see will some sailor buy a ballad off me that would give me my supper. They do be late going back to the ship. It's often I saw them in Cork carried down the quay in a hand-cart.SERGEANT. Move on, I tell you. I won't have any one lingering about the quay tonight.MAN. Well, I'll go. It's the poor have the hard life! Maybe yourself might like one, sergeant. Here's a good sheet now. [Turns one over.] "Content and a pipe"- that's not much. "The Peeler and the Goat"-you wouldn't like that. "Johnny Hart"- that's a lovely song.SERGEANT. Move on.MAN. Ah, wait till you hear it. [Sings.]There was a rich farmer's daughter lived near the town of Ross;She courted a Highland soldier, his name was Johnny Hart;Says the mother to her daughter, "I'll go distracted madIf you marry that Highland soldier dressed up in Highland plaid."SERGEANT. Stop that noise.[MAN wraps up his ballads and shuffles towards the steps.]

SERGEANT. Where are you going?MAN. Sure you told me to be going, and I am going.SERGEANT. Don’t be a fool. I didn't tell you to go that way; I told you to go back to the town.MAN. Back to the town, is it?SERGEANT [taking him by the shoulder and shoving him before him]. Here, I'll show you the way. Be off with you. What are you stopping for?MAN [who has been keeping his eye on the notice, points to it]. I think I know what you're waiting for, sergeant.SERGEANT. What's that to you?MAN. And I know well the man you're waiting for—I know him well—I'll be going. [He shuffles on.]SERGEANT. You know him? Come back here. What sort is he?MAN. Come back is it, sergeant? Do you want to have me killed?SERGEANT. Why do you say that?MAN. Never mind. I'm going. I wouldn't be in your shoes if the reward was ten times as much. [Goes on off stage to left.] Not if it was ten times as much.SERGEANT [rushing after him]. Come back here, come back. [Drags him back. ] What sort is he? Where did you see him?MAN. I saw him in my own place, in the County Clare. I tell you you wouldn't like to be looking at him. You'd be afraid to be in the one place with him. There isn't a weapon he doesn't know the use of, and as to strength, his muscles are as hard as that board. [Slaps barrel.]SERGEANT. Is he as bad as that?MAN. He is then.SERGEANT. Do you tell me so?MAN. There was a poor man in our place, a sergeant from Ballyvaughan.—It was with a lump of stone he did it.SERGEANT. I never heard of that.MAN. And you wouldn't, sergeant. It's not everything that happens gets into the papers. And there was a policeman in plain clothes, too . . . It is in Limerick he was . . . . It was after the time of the attack

on the police barrack in Kilmallock. . . . Moonlight . . . just like this . . . waterside . . . Nothing was known for certain.SERGEANT. Do you say so? It's a terrible country to belong to.MAN. That's so, indeed! You might be standing there, looking out that way, thinking you saw him coming up this side of the quay [points], and he might be coming up this other side [points], and he'd be on you before you knew where you were.SERGEANT. It's a whole troop of police they ought to put here to stop a man like that.MAN. But if you'd like me to stop with you, I could be looking down this side. I could be sitting up here on this barrel.SERGEANT. And you know him well, too?MAN. I'd know him a mile off, sergeant.SERGEANT. But you wouldn't want to share the reward?MAN. Is it a poor man like me, that has to be going the roads and singing in fairs, to have the name on him that he took a reward? But you don't want me. I'll be safer in the town.SERGEANT. Well, you can stop.MAN [getting up on barrel]. All right, sergeant, I wonder now, you're tired out, sergeant, walking up and down the way you are.SERGEANT. If I'm tired I'm used to it.MAN. You might have hard work before you tonight yet. Take it easy while you can. There's plenty of room up here on the barrel, and you see farther when you're higher up.SERGEANT. Maybe so. [Gets up beside him on barrel, facing right.][They sit back to back, looking different ways.]You made me feel a bit queer with the way you talked.MAN. Give me a match, sergeant [he gives it and MAN lights pipe]; take a draw yourself? It'll quiet you. Wait now till I give you a light, but you needn't turn round. Don't take your eye off the quay for the life of you.SERGEANT. Never fear, I won’t. [Lights pipe.][They both smoke.]Indeed it's a hard thing to be in the force, out at night and no thanks for it, for all the danger we're in. And it's little we get but abuse from

the people, and no choice but to obey our orders, and never asked when a man is sent into danger, if you are a married man with a family.MAN [sings].As through the hills I walked to view the hills and shamrock plain,I stood awhile where nature smiles to view the rocks and streams,On a matron fair I fixed my eyes beneath a fertile vale,And she sang her song it was on the wrong of poor old Granuaile.SERGEANT. Stop that; that's no song to be singing in these times.MAN. Ah, sergeant, I was only singing to keep my heart up. It sinks when I think of him. To think of us two sitting here, and he creeping up the quay, maybe, to get to us.SERGEANT. Are you keeping a good lookout?MAN. I am; and for no reward too. Amn't I the fool man? But when I saw a man in trouble, I never could help trying to get him out of it. What's that? Did something hit me? [Rubs his heart.]SERGEANT [patting him on the shoulder]. You will get your reward in heaven.MAN. I know that, I know that, sergeant, but life is precious.SERGEANT. Well, you can sing if it gives you more courage.MAN [sings].Her head was bare, her hands and feet with iron bands were bound,Her pensive strain and plaintive wail mingles with the evening galeAnd the song she sang with mournful air, I am old Granuaile.•Her lips so sweet that monarchs kissed . . .SERGEANT. That's not it . . . "Her gown she wore was stained with gore." . . . That's it—you missed that.MAN. You're right, sergeant, so it is, I missed it. [Repeats line.] But to think of a man like you knowing a song like that.SERGEANT. There's many a thing a man might know and might not have any wish for.MAN. Now, I daresay, sergeant, in your youth, you used to be sitting up on a wall, the way you are sitting up on this barrel now, and the other lads beside you, and you singing "Granuaile"? . . .SERGEANT. I did then.

MAN. And the "Shan Van Vocht"?SERGEANT, I did then.MAN. And the "Green on the Cape?"SERGEANT. That was one of them.MAN. And maybe the man you are watching for to-night used to be sitting on the wall, when he was young, and singing those same songs.... It's a queer world. . . .SERGEANT. Whisht! . . . I think I see something coming. . . . It’s only a dog.MAN. And isn't it a queer world? . . . Maybe it's one of the boys you used to be singing with that time you will be arresting to-day or to-morrow, and sending into the dock. . . .SERGEANT. That’s true indeed.MAN. And maybe one night, after you had been singing, if the other boys had told you some plan they had, some plan to free the country, you might have joined with them . . . and maybe it is you might be in trouble now.SERGEANT. Well, who knows but I might? I had a great spirit in those days.MAN. It's a queer world, sergeant, and it's little any mother knows when she sees her child creeping on the floor what might happen to it before it has gone through its life, or who will be who in the end.SERGEANT. That’s a queer thought now, and a true thought. Wait now till I think it out. If it wasn't for the sense I have, and for my wife and family, and for me joining the force the time I did, it might be myself now would be after breaking gaol and hiding in the dark, and it might be him that's hiding in the dark and that got out of gaol would be sitting up here where I am on this barrel. . . . And it might be myself would be creeping up trying to make my escape from himself, and it might be himself would be keeping the law, and myself would be breaking it, and myself would be trying to put a bullet in his head or to take up a lump of stone the way you said he did .. . no, that myself did. . . . Oh! [Gasps. After a pause] What's that? [Grasps man's arm.]MAN [jumps off barrel and listens, looking out over water]. It's

nothing, sergeant.SERGEANT. I thought it might be a boat. I had a notion there might be friends of his coming about the quays with a boat.MAN. Sergeant, I am thinking it was with the people you were, and not with the law you were, when you were a young man.SERGEANT. Well, if I was foolish then, that time's gone.MAN. Maybe, sergeant, it comes into your head sometimes, in spite of your belt and your tunic, that it might have been as well for you to have followed Granuaile.SERGEANT. It’s no business of yours what I think.MAN. Maybe, sergeant, you’ll be on the side of the country yet.SERGEANT [gets off barrel]. Don't talk to me like that. I have my duties and I know them. [Looks round.] That was a boat; I hear the oars. [Goes to the steps and looks down.]MAN [sings]O, then, tell me, Shawn O'Farrell,Where the gathering is to be.In the old spot by the riverRight well known to you and me!SERGEANT. Stop that! Stop that, I tell you!MAN [sings louder].

One word more, for signal token,Whistle up the marching tune,With your pike upon your shoulder,At the Rising of the Moon.

SERGEANT. If you don’t stop that, I’ll arrest you.[A whistle from below answers, repeating the air.]SERGEANT. That's a signal. [Stands between him and steps.] You must not pass this way. . . . Step farther back. . . . Who are you? You are no ballad-singer.MAN. You needn't ask who I am—that placard will tell you. [Points to placard.]SERGEANT, You are the man I am looking for.MAN [takes off hat and wig. SERGEANT seizes them.]MAN. I am. There's a hundred pounds on my head. There is a friend

of mine below in a boat. He knows a safe place to bring me to.SERGEANT [looking still at hat and wig]. It’s a pity! It’s a pity. You deceived me. You deceived me well.MAN. I am a friend of Granuaile. There is a hundred pounds on my head.SERGEANT. It’s a pity, it’s a pity!MAN. Will you let me pass, or must I make you let me?SERGEANT. I am in the force. I will not let you pass.MAN. I thought to do it with my tongue. [Puts hand in breast.] What is that?Voice of POLICEMAN X outside. Here, this is where we left him.SERGEANT. It’s my comrades coming.MAN. You won't betray me . . . the friend of Granuaile. [Slips behind barrel.]Voice of POLICEMAN B. That was the last of the placards.POLICEMAN X [as they come in]. If he makes his escape it won’t be unknown he'll make it.[SERGEANT puts hat and wig behind his back.]POLICEMAN B. Did any one come this way?SERGEANT [after a pause]. No one.POLICEMAN B. No one at all?SERGEANT. No one at all.POLICEMAN B. We had no orders to go back to the station; we can stop along with you.SERGEANT. I don’t want you. There is nothing for you to do here.POLICEMAN B. You bade us to come back here and keep watch with you.SERGEANT. I'd sooner be alone. Would any man come this way and you making all that talk? It is better the place to be quiet.POLICEMAN B. Well, we’ll leave you the lantern anyhow.[Hands it to him].SERGEANT. I don’t want it. Bring it with you.POLICEMAN B. You might want it. There are clouds coming up and you have the darkness of the night before you yet. I'll leave it over here on the barrel. [Goes to barrel.]

SERGEANT. Bring it with you I tell you. No more talk.POLICEMAN B. Well, I thought it might be a comfort to you. I often think when I have it in my hand and can be flashing it about into every dark corner [doing so] that it's the same as being beside the fire at home, and the bits of bogwood blazing up now and again. [Flashes it about, now on the barrel, now on SERGEANT.]SERGEANT [furious]. Be off the two of you, yourselves and your lantern![They go out. MAN comes from behind barrel. He and SERGEANT stand looking at one another.]SERGEANT. What are you waiting for?MAN. For my hat, of course, and my wig. You wouldn’t wish me to get my death of cold?[SERGEANT gives them.]MAN [going towards steps]. Well, good-night, comrade, and thank you. You did me a good turn to-night, and I'm obliged to you. Maybe I'll be able to do as much for you when the small rise up and the big fall down . . . when we all change places at the rising [waves his hand and disappears] of the Moon.SERGEANT [turning his back to audience and reading placard]. A hundred pounds reward! A hundred pounds! [turns towards audience.] I wonder, now, am I as great a fool as I think I am?