Read Online The Playboy of the Western World and Other Plays by J. M. Synge - Free Book Online Page A

fearing the loosed kharki cut-throats, or the walking dead.
    CHRISTY (swelling with surprise and triumph). Well, glory be to God!
    MICHAEL (with deference). Would you think well to stop here and be pot-boy, mister honey, if we gave you good wages, and didn’t destroy you with the weight of work?
    SHAWN (coming forward uneasily). That’d be a queer kind to bring into a decent quiet household with the like of Pegeen Mike.
    PEGEEN (very sharply). Will you whisht? Who’s speaking to you?
    SHAWN (retreating). A bloody-handed murderer the like of ...
    PEGEEN (snapping at him). Whisht I am saying; we’ll take no fooling from your like at all. (To CHRISTY with a honeyed voice) And you, young fellow, you’d have a right to stop, I’m thinking, for we’d do our all and utmost to content your needs.
    CHRISTY (overcome with wonder). And I’d be safe in this place from the searching law?
    MICHAEL. You would, surely. If they’re not fearing you, itself, the peelers in this place is decent droughty poor fellows, wouldn’t touch a cur dog and not give warning in the dead of night.
    PEGEEN (very kindly and persuasively). Let you stop a short while anyhow. Aren’t you destroyed walking with your feet in bleeding blisters, and your whole skin needing washing like a Wicklow sheep?
    CHRISTY (looking round with satisfaction). It’s a nice room, and if it’s not humbugging me you are, I’m thinking that I’ll surely stay.
    JIMMY (jumps up). Now, by the grace of God, herself will be safe this night, with a man killed his father holding danger from the door, and let you come on, Michael James, or they’ll have the best stuff drunk at the wake.
    MICHAEL (going to the door with men). And begging your pardon, mister, what name will we call you, for we’d like to know?
    CHRISTY. Christopher Mahon.
    MICHAEL. Well, God bless you, Christy, and a good rest till we meet again when the sun’ll be rising to the noon of day.
    CHRISTY. God bless you all.
    MEN. God bless you.
    (They go out except SHAWN, who lingers at door.)
    SHAWN (to PEGEEN). Are you wanting me to stop along with you and keep you from harm?
    PEGEEN (gruffly). Didn’t you say you were fearing Father Reilly?
    SHAWN. There’d be no harm staying now, I’m thinking, and himself in it too.
    PEGEEN. You wouldn’t stay when there was need for you, and let you step off nimble this time when there’s none.
    SHAWN. Didn’t I say it was Father Reilly ...
    PEGEEN. Go on, then, to Father Reilly (in a jeering tone), and let him put you in the holy brotherhoods, and leave that lad to me.
    SHAWN. If I meet the Widow Quin ...
    PEGEEN. Go on, I’m saying, and don’t be waking this place with your noise. (She hustles him out and bolts the door.) That lad would wear the spirits from the saints of peace. (Bustles about, then takes off her apron and pins it up in the window as a blind. CHRISTY watching her timidly. Then she comes to him and speaks with bland good-humour.) Let you stretch out now by the fire, young fellow. You should be destroyed travelling.
    CHRISTY (shyly again, drawing off his boots). I’m tired, surely, walking wild eleven days, and waking fearful in the night. (He holds up one of his feet, feeling his blisters, and looking at them with compassion.)
    PEGEEN (standing beside him, watching him with delight). You should have had great people in your family, I’m thinking, with the little, small feet you have, and you with a kind of a quality name, the like of what you’d find on the great powers and potentates of France and Spain.
    CHRISTY (with pride). We were great surely, with wide and windy acres of rich Munster land.
    PEGEEN. Wasn’t I telling you, and you a fine, handsome young fellow with a noble brow?
    CHRISTY (with a flash of delighted surprise). Is it me?
    PEGEEN. Aye. Did you never hear that from the young girls where you come from in the west or south?
    CHRISTY (with