All start and look first towards Maire, then towards the door, the latch of which has been touched.

MAOILSHEACHLAINN.

I wish it was MacDara, Maire. 'Tis maybe Diarmaid or the mountainy man we saw on the road.

MAIRE.

It is not Diarmaid. It is MacDara.

The door opens slowly and MacDara, a young man of perhaps twenty-five, dressed like a man of the mountains, stands on the threshold.

MACDARA.

God save all here.

ALL.

And you, likewise.

MAIRE

(who has risen and is stretching out her hands)

I felt you coming to me, little son!

MACDARA

(Springing to her and folding her in his arms)

Little mother! Little mother!

While they still embrace Sighle re-enters from the room and stands still on the threshold looking at MacDara.

MAIRE

(raising her head)

Along all the quiet roads and across all the rough mountains, and through all the crowded towns, I felt you drawing near to me.

MACDARA.

Oh, the long years, the long years!

MAIRE.

I am crying for pride at the sight of you. Neighbours, neighbours, this is MacDara, the first child that I bore to my husband.

MACDARA

(Kissing Colm)

My little brother! [(To Cuimin)], Cuimin Eanna! [(To Maoilsheachlainn)], Master! [(They shake hands.)]

MAOILSHEACHLAINN.

Welcome home.

CUIMIN.

Welcome home.

MACDARA

(Looking round)

Where is . . . [(He sees Sighle in the doorway.)] Sighle! [(He approaches her and takes her hand.)] Little, little Sighle! . . . I . . . Mother, sometimes when I was in the middle of great crowds, I have seen this fireplace, and you standing with your hands stretched out to me as you stood a minute ago, and Sighle in the doorway of the room; and my heart has cried out to you.

MAIRE.

I used to hear the crying of your heart. Often and often here by the fireside or abroad on the street I would stand and say, `MacDara is crying out to me now. The heart in him is yearning.' And this while back I felt you draw near, draw near, step by step. Last night I felt you very near to me. Do you remember me saying, Sighle, that I felt someone coming, and that I thought maybe it might be MacDara?

SIGHLE.

You did.

MAIRE.

I knew that something glorious was coming to the mountain with to-day's dawn. Red dawns and white dawns I have seen on the hills, but none like this dawn. Come in, jewel, and sit down awhile in the

room. Sighle has the table laid. The tea is drawn. Bring in the griddle-cakes, Sighle. Come in, master. Come in, Cuimin.

MAOILSHEACHLAINN.

No, Maire, we'll sit here a while. You and the children will like to be by yourselves. Go in, west, children. Cuimin and I have plans to make. We're expecting Diarmaid of the Bridge in.

MAIRE.

We don't grudge you a share in our joy, master. Nor you, Cuimin.

CUIMIN.

No, go on in, Maire. We'll go west after you. We want to talk here.

MAIRE.

Well, come in when you have your talk out. There's enough tea on the pot for everybody. In with you, children.

MacDara, Colm, Sighle and Maire go into the room, Sighle carrying the griddle-cakes and Maire the tea.

MAOILSHEACHLAINN.

This is great news, MacDara to be back.

CUIMIN.

Do you think will he be with us?

MAOILSHEACHLAINN.

Is it a boy with that gesture of the head, that proud, laughing

gesture, to be a coward or a stag? You don't know the heart of this boy, Cuimin; the love that's in it, and the strength. You don't know the mind he has, so gracious, so full of wisdom. I taught him when he was only a little ladeen. 'Tis a pity that he had ever to go away from us. And yet, I think, his exile has made him a better man. His soul must be full of great remembrances.

CUIMIN.

I never knew rightly why he was banished.

MAOILSHEACHLAINN.

Songs he was making that were setting the people's hearts on fire.

CUIMIN.

Aye, I often heard his songs.

MAOILSHEACHLAINN.

They were full of terrible love for the people and of great anger against the Gall. Some said there was irreligion in them and blasphemy against God. But I never saw it, and I don't believe it. There are some would have us believe that God is on the side of the Gall. Well, word came down from Galway or from Dublin that he would be put in prison, and maybe excommunicated if he did not go away. He was only a gossoon of eighteen, or maybe twenty. The priest counselled him to go, and not to bring sorrow on his mother's house. He went away one evening without taking farewell or leave of anyone.

CUIMIN.

Where has he been since, I don't know?

MAOILSHEACHLAINN.

In great cities, I'd say, and in lonely places. He has the face of a scholar, or of a priest, or of a clerk, on him. He must have read a lot, and thought a lot, and made a lot of songs.

CUIMIN.

I don't know is he as strong a boy as Colm.

MAOILSHEACHLAINN.

He's not as robust in himself as Colm is, but there was great strength in the grip of his hand. I'd say that he'd wield a camán or a pike with any boy on the mountain.

CUIMIN.

He'll be a great backing to us if he is with us. The people love him on account of the songs he used to make. There's not a man that won't do his bidding.

MAOILSHEACHLAINN.

That's so. And his counsel will be useful to us. He'll make better plans than you or I, Cuimin.

CUIMIN.

I wonder what's keeping Diarmaid.

MAOILSHEACHLAINN.

Some news that was at the forge or at the priest's house, maybe. He went east the road to see if there was sign of a word from Galway.

CUIMIN.

I'll be uneasy till he comes. [(He gets up and walks to the window and looks out; Maoilsheachlainn remains deep in thought by the fire. Cuimin returns from the window and continues.)] Is it to march we'll do, or to fight here in the hills?

MAOILSHEACHLAINN.

Out Maam Gap we'll go and meet the boys from the Joyce country. We'll leave some to guard the Gap and some at Leenane. We'll march the road between the lakes, through Maam and Cornamona and Clonbur to Cong. Then we'll have friends on our left at Ballinrobe and on our right at Tuam. What is there to stop us but the few men the Gall have in Clifden?

CUIMIN.

And if they march against us, we can destroy them from the mountains.

MAOILSHEACHLAINN.

We can. It's into a trap they'll walk.

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 553