THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN A PLAY BY EVA WILKINS A. FLANAGAN COMPANY CHICAGO ,.^;^n^ Copyrlglit, 1911 A. FLANAGAN COMPANY CCID 23673 TO MISS JULIA B. REED OF EATONTON, GEORGIA PREFACE A STORY entitled " The Legend of the Large Feet," by Miss A. A. Brown, was pubHshed in 1840 by Leavitt and Allen, New York, in a Gift Book. This story gives us the names Clonacarty and Kilavain, and con- tains the notion used in " The Brogues " that fairies may fasten on presuming mortal feet great brogues which may be " danced off." If this notion be not legendary, it is quite in the legend spirit and should, we think, be permitted to slip from the blue-and-gold covers of the old Gift Book, to " foot it foine " on the moonlit sward of a later day. Winter Park. Florida. DRAMATIS PERSONyE MORTALS Nellie Doyne. Ormond Conner, Nellie's lover ; owner of a bit of land beyond Clonacarty. Jerry Gallaher, Nellie's uncle ; tenant on Kilavain Farm and o'er fond o' drink. Rose Larissey, cousin to Ormond and a friend of Nellie's. Denny O'Rourke, betrothed to Rose. Father Joyce, a priest. Maids and youths of Clonacarty. FAIRIES The Queen of the Fairies. Jack Rush, the Queen's page. Thistledown, maid-of-honor to the Queen, Firefly Peata (pron. pe' ta) Briar, fairy youth. Other fairies, including one tiny and ugly, who " plays the trick." [ Fairy maids. SYNOPSIS Time: When leaves were new; but no one knows rightly about the year. Place: A glen on Kilavain Farm near the town of Clonacarty- Scene First: After a merrymaking at Uncle Jerry's cottage the guests pass through the moonlit glen of Kilavain Farm, returning to Clonacarty. Nel- lie and Uncle Jerry accompany their friends to the glen, where Nellie after taunting Ormond on his fear of the " good people " wilfully remains alone. Fairies appear and the queen's page, by appeals to Nellie's vanity induces her to dance with him. Daybreak reveals Nellie's punishment. She, however, recalls, " not too soon," the whispered word telling the " cure for such," but lest harm come to Ormond she determines that he shall not know the cure — not know that an Irishman brave and true may contend with the fairies and dance oif her burden. Father Joyce divines her thought, but promptly consents that Denny and Uncle Jerry shall contend, " for thryin's good for some." Scene Second: The next evening; the moonlit glen. Denny is humbled by Firefly, and Uncle Jerry is be- guiled into circling round, and stands neither for the family honor, nor for the " liquid gold " that he loves. Father Joyce, however, has arranged that Ormond shall reach the glen in time to dance later and because he is brave and true, aids him, to defeat the queen herself and thus releases Nellie Doyne from her great burden. 7 SOME SUGGESTIONS " The Brogues of Kilavain Glen "' is written for study in expression classes, and for presentation. The introductory verses, and the Hnes interpolating the dialogue will suggest the stage setting and the stage directions. The form of the play fits it for an introduc- tion to the study of more serious drama. It is a lesson in visualizing. An illustration showing the ancient thonged brogues may be found in the Century Dictionary. Light stringed instruments played by musicians concealed at the back of the glen, will make pleasing music for the dancing. The fixing of the brogues on Nellie's feet may be accomplished by the ugly little fairy, dressed in dark green, who carries the brogues in a bag slung over his back. Later, he slips the brogues away unobserved by the group about Nellie, and, put- ting them back into the bag, disappears up the glen. In order to introduce Irish songs, the following was added at the presentation of the play at Rollins College. Morning, Nellie is sleeping on the ring. Thistledown has said ; " The note !" when a maid of Clonacarty comes to the stile and calls : Ha, ha! Ha, ha! Good company awaits. A youth on his way to work joins the maid who, suddenly serious, says: It's Nellie Doyne was sufferin' in me dreams. Last night — ^alone she was. Youth: Alone! Not she, nor sufferin' much. Now sing for me. Maid : If you'll be singin' too. Try this. They sing, and if encore the youth says : Again ! I'd stay the day to sing with you. They return together to Clonacarty and Uncle Jerry enters. 8 THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN SCENE FIRST The moonlig^ht waited at the glen's dark rim Until the rill cried, " Ready ! leap with me," Then splash they went into a deep, still pool. They leaped again ; the rill laughed close and low. The moonlight then bethought that she was shy. And slipped away. At once the circle marked By fairy tread in heart of Kilavain Shone white. The rill, all lonely, crept beneath The bridge where it was dark, and voices thin And high came trembling from the shadowed slopes, And gentle breath of night just stirred the leaves Still folded small and new. Now shouts crash in, and shatter all the sweet Vibrations of the glen, and human folk. The merry guests from Uncle Jerry's house. Come rushing on. They run along the path That from the bridge just skirts the fairy ring, Then, breaking at the stile, leads on to town. The ring looks white ; they huddle at the bridge ; They are afraid, and wait a braver lead. First Maiden. Ah, hush you, hush ! The fairy folk like not The shouts you're givin'. Leave your noise. Second Maiden. Yes, hush, for I've a notion, sure, I saw^ — 9 10 THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN Youth. 'Tis naught you saw. Come on, come on, colleens. Rose. Ill luck it is to pass yon chill white ring With heart a-fear. Be waitin', Denny ; list ! Hear Nellie laugh, just hear. No ill can come To her from tremblin' fears, — to Nellie, no. First Maid. To Nellie Doyne ! More like she'd thry yon ring. Second Maid. A-dancin'? Sure, she has more wit than that! Youth. Oh, see her come! Not caught, but Or- mond's close. Make way for both. Ay, now we're seein' sport ! Denny. " Be stoppin' at the bridge," your uncle calls ; He's spent his breath, and you're not heedin' yet. Rose. You'll not be racin' by their very ring! Nellie. And who'll be darin' now to follow me Around the ring, and up the glen ? — Come on. Ormond. 'Tis I'll be darin', sure! I'm close. Rose. Come, follow me along the nearer side. And we will head her off, ere harm befall. A Number. Lead on. Rose. She's at the pool. — Don't fling the water, child !— Oh, Ormond, quick! jump back! Nellie. He is afraid. Ormond. 'Tis where good people drink ; you see the light That flashes from it now. Nellie. You'd head me off, — you, there with Rose? Well, see! A Number. Oh, stop ! Not that way — ^no ! THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN 11 Rose. The mischief's done ; she's on the ring-. Uncle Jerry. 'Tis at the bridge I am, so never fear. It's sthrength I'm nadin' if 'tis sthrength I give — A drop of this before — a fairish jump, Me child ! 'Tis on the path ye are, and safe. Rose. Now quickly down the glen. We should be home. Nellie. Not caught ! Is Ormond anywhere about ? Nowhere at all. Uncle Jerry. It's aisy on this stump. I'm nadin' rest. Such clatter of good-night ! — Here, stop a bit. Now listen ! NelHe Doyne did clane outdance The maids of Clonacarty, yis, and took The prize. A pig it was, and I by rights Won six, a-gittin' him to Kilavain. The fairy folks moint dance with Nellie Doyne And suffer no disgrace. (Ill luck it is To spake loike that of such. This kapes 'em off.) — You do be ling'rin', Rose? And Denny waits For you, and Ormond waits for me — to go. Rose. And we should follow on. — Yes, Nellie dear, We've had a merry time, but now, good-night. 'Tis back to Clonacarty I would be, And home would you be goin'. Yes, 'tis late; There goes your uncle, so good-night again. Denny. Will Ormond now be goin' home with you, And comin' back alone. Miss Doyne? Ormond. He will, for sure, if Nellie Doyne per- mits, — You do permit? Nellie. Oh, no, I'll go the little way alone. Good-night to all, and Rose, good-night to you, 12 THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN Gcx>d-night. — They leave you, Ormond, in this fearsome place ! Now haste, I'm waitin' till you're safe, quite safe Without the glen. It's lone you'll be beyond The town in reachin' Connor Farm. Ormond. Oh, Nellie Doyne, you must believe I'm not Afraid! I am afraid, 'tis thrue I am. For little people have strange ways, and yet To care for you I'd stay, and they rnight turn Me cold, and put on me the marks of death. Nellie. We're hearin' music? No, the wind, the wind. Good-night. Perhaps — I've said I'd go alone; I shall. Good-night. Ormond. Yes, go, but; call to me " I'm safe," when you Have crossed the bridge. I'll go so gladly then, As 'tis you can't abide meself at all. Nellie. You've said to me, " I am afraid," and all Of Clonacarty thinks you are afraid — You heard that shout, heard Rose's Denny shout? I think I hate him ! Hear that tauntin' call ! Beyond the hill they've passed. How still the glen ! Ormond. You'll sure be goin' now ! Nellie. Beyond the stile. Perchance some maid is not So far but she may wait for you. Ormond. Oh, Nellie! — Well, I've hope the saints may give To me the chance of bein' brave for you. Nellie. Again I say good-night. Ormond. I may be waitin' — here beyond the stile ? THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN 13 Nellie. I do not wish it so, but since you're bent On bein' brave — the wall protectin' you — I promise, sure, that when you've passed the old White hawthorn tree, I'll run and run. Voices. I'll run and run. Ormond. It was the wind. It's well that you should go. Nellie. Indeed! When you have passed the thorn I'll go. Ormond. Good-night. Your lover thrue I am, as well you know. Good-night again. Nellie. And are you safe, quite safe? Ormond. I'm at the thorn tree, now, and wait. Nellie. I said beyond the thorn. Ormond. Good-night. Nellie. I just could hear his voice. — Night's breath is still. — Me heart's not still. I'll run. Voices. I'll run; I'll run. Nellie. Oh, hush, you wind! It's wool that winds me feet. I'm not afraid, and yet I'm sinkin' down. The shadows gather close about the maid, But up the glen she sees the fine-leafed trees, And e'en the tiny ferns, that crowd the foot Of each cascade. And all as bright as day. A breath of wind, that brings a firm, low pulse, Sweet-toned, confuses, blends the outlined leaves, And Nellie rubs her eyes, then looks again. And sees the fairy folk come down the glen. They quickly reach the smooth white place, and skip In gayest measure. Faster fly their feet. 14 THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN Until the music lighter leaps, then quick They sink to earth, with hands upraised, and eyes That search the glen's far rim, Adown the steep white way, the ferns just stirred, The dewdrops flashing at her foot's light touch. The star above her brow more bright than all. Swift comes the fairy queen. Above the ring She waits, and all the troop before her dance. At last they tire, and she permits them rest. By twos and threes they drop, and lightly swing Bright petaled fans. And Nellie knows that all the while they know She crouches on the path, and waits their look. At last they turn, pretend surprise, with wee And wicked fingers point, and laugh, and peer. The queen turns not her haughty eyes, but sends Jack Rush, the page, to speak to Nellie Doyne. As in a dream the maiden rises when The page comes close, and bows so low to her. Yet smiles just like the rest. And as he talks He smiles, the mortal maiden is so vain, The queen disturbed that mortal be so fair ; The royal star shows this by glints of green. And anger shows by flash of ruby red. Jack Rush. A greeting, mortal maid. No fear of us In heart of Nellie Doyne? No fear? Ah, none! We hear, fair Nellie Doyne, that you can dance With step so light, with feet so small, a queen — Our queen — might envy you. Nellie. Oh, no, most noble sir, Fve not a foot So small, oh, no — The star ! I fear your queen. THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN 15 Jack. Ah, well, perhaps the smallest mortal f(X)t; I'll wager that is so. Nellie. It's easy seein' that they're not so large — You may be knowin' why your people laugh ! Jack. They say that Nellie Doyne can quite out- dance The maids of Clonacarty. That is true? Nellie. Quite thrue. I did outdance them all. Jack. Indeed ! And would you dance with any one Of us? Nellie. I'll thry ; for sure ; I'm not afraid at all ! I'll thry with one who's not so grand to see ; I'll dance with you. — The queen permits? Thistledozmi. Ha, Ha! You did not think me near, Sir Jack. So you're not " grand to see " ! Jack. Away! The queen would speak with you; away ! — Perhaps for maid so fair the queen does choose A measure, bright and swift. We'll see. Nellie. A measure that I love. Thistledown. Aside, Sir Page! The queen this message sends : " Bethink you, maid. Should you know one who can Outdo yourself in grace, in lightness, strength, Then do not dance to-night." Nellie. There is no one at all. Thistledown. I'll tell her majesty. Queen. The maid recalls no one? No one? Thistledown. Not any one at all, your majesty. Queen. Then dance she should! 'Tis well that she should dance. 16 THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN Thistledown. 'Tis well that you should dance, the queen has said. She waves her hand ; your place is on the ring. And, Jack, you dance with her, the queen permits. Upon the ring ; the music says begin. Briar. The maid is fair to see. Peata. She dances well. Thistledown. Speak soft ! She dances well, oh, yes. Briar. The queen is pleased ; why " soft " ? Peata. But not for long. She'd speak to Thistle- down. Thistledown. I shall return to spoil the dance, you'll see. — Your majesty? ... I heed you well. The maid Will be more humble when I've said the word. The word, that's all, and she will dance but ill. And now I go? — Oh, maid of Kilavain, you're short of breath. Nellie. Ah, yes! so short! Thistledown. Your heart, poor child, your heart will burst. Nellie. Ah, yes ! the pain ! Thistledown. Your foot — the left — it weighs like lead. Nellie. Ah, yes ! me foot's like lead ! Thistledozum. The other foot like lead ; both feet like lead. Nellie. Now both like lead; how can I move! Ah, me! Be comin' now — Oh, Ormond, come! Jack. She falls ! — Alas, poor maid ! Thistledown. Oh, hush ! Your pity hide. These shining drops THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN 17 Will give her sleep. Quite dim the light is here, But not about the queen. How beautiful She is ! — She's leading up the glen. Oh, haste ! Jack, He plays the trick, who waits there at the pool, But I can save the maid; I know the word To whisper in her ear. Thistledown. Poor maid! — Yes, say the word; I'll hide you, so. Jack. Good Thistledown! When she awakes she will Recall what I have said ; but not too soon. Oh, no ! Thistledown. Now come. A bird note hailing dawn, and we're Snuffed out. — The note! The dawn comes white, and other birds make stir Of sleepy song. The dawn comes red, and all The birds awake and sing. A step comes slow. An erring step amid the perfect things Of morn. Uncle Jerry. It's sthrength that's naded sure, and sthrength has come. Loike ony boat this bridge comes up, goes down. The path's more quiet loike; I'd better land. — Ah, Nellie dear, me sister's child that's dead, I said I'd look to you. That's what I've done. I should have come to you and stayed. — Me head ! This sthream, perchance, may cool me head a bit. It's foine, it does no harm at all ; again ! Ale skin's that tough, no harm at all — outside. — Now loike the child's all safe aslape with Rose. 18 THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN Ye saints in heaven, see ! She is aslape Within the ring. — Shisht, Nelhe, wake ye ! Come to uncle, come ! — She don't appear to be approachin' fast. The saints be with me ! She's me sister's child, I'll go to her. — Now, wake ye, Nellie, wake, yer uncle's here. Come home ; herself* she waits to fade the pigs. — Her pretty head's a droopin' loike a babe's. — Oh, child, just wake, ye naden't work at all. Herself '11 not be askin' ye to work, Just come ye trippin' on yer little fate. And rest loike ony lady. Wake, me child ! Perhaps ye cannot wake within the ring. I'll carry ye ; the path is near. The path That's ladin' home — ye hear me, poor colleen? — Oh, Holy Saints, see this ! Her fate ! the size ! When looked ye at such brogues on little maid ! I'll not be liftin' such ; the brogues must dhrag. — Now wake, the path's at hand. No, wait a bit. They may go down, — be mendin' while ye slape. Nellie. Me breath, me feet, so tired ! Uncle Jerry. Och, tired, indade! It's very tired they look. Now dhrag 'em forward — ^there. Perhaps they may Drop off — in part, at laste. Nellie. Oh, Uncle Jerry, see ! Me own small feet — They've gone. It's fairy feet I've now. Uncle Jerry. Not fairy fate — ^oh, no ! But get them off The ring. Perhaps — *Herself : Wife, housewife, the mother. THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN 19 Nellie. Well, there, they're on the path at last ! You see They're fast as ever. Uncle dear, it's just Great brogues they are ! Fast on ; yet thry your knife. Uncle Jerry. Kape quiet just a bit. One thong's cut loose. Nellie. Now fast it is, and tighter than before ! Uncle Jerry. Bedad, it is ! I'll thry the mate. Kape sthill. Nellie. The thryin's of no use, no use at all. With fairy youth last night I danced, and on The fairy ring. Uncle Jerry. Och, silly child! the luck ye may ex- pect! Nellie. And be deservin' of it all. Uncle Jerry. Well, no, not all the fate ye've on. Nellie. Not just for dancin' ; no, 'twas worse than that. Good Ormond treated sO' by likes of me ! Me heart will break for that. I must away ! He might be comin' now. No sight of him ? Oh, no, he'll never come, and never bide With such when he does come. Uncle Jerry. A bit ago ye gave him wan swate kiss. Nellie. It's none at all I gave ! Uncle Jerry. It's back he'll be, now sure. Nellie. And I'll not want him back to see these feet. I just remember now, the fairy-tricked Do bring the worst of luck to those they love. You do not show surprise when I say this — To those they love. Uncle Jerry. Surprise! Colleen, the little birds do know. — 20 THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN Tlie wit o'that ! — There, child, ye must forgive Yer uncle's little joke. He knows how 'tis. Och, smile a bit. Yer pretty face '11 win A mon so tall, and near of sight he'll not Be seein' that yer fate's so very large. Nellie. Oh, uncle dear, you thry to make me smile. Uncle Jerry. I'm thinkin' Ormond's one to love ye thrue, On fate of ony sort. Nellie. An ugly wife for Ormond ! Take me home. And there be hidin' me. Uncle Jerry. Thry standin' — so. Me shoulder '11 do for staff — Now stop. This stumblin' will not do at all. It's not for common mortals' dalin', this. I'll take ye home, and go for Father Joyce ; It's help he has when ony trouble comes. The Father could be walkin' all the way To heaven steppin' nately on his own Good dades, as well ye know. Nellie. Yes, uncle, go. The pain's that bad a rest I must be takin' ; near the path I'll wait. I have no fear, for sure the thing is done. Uncle Jerry. Sit here. The stump will be a-restin' ye. — Now up the glen the short way to the praist. — Ye hear me stumblin' at the sthream? Ye'll not Be fearin' long. But soft ! a whistlin' by I'm hearin'. — Ormond ! Praise the saints ! Nellie. Oh, some one comes ! The look of me ! I'll dhrag Meself behind the stump ; me feet do show ! THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN 21 Ormond. The day! The honest sunshine that I love! Sweet Nellie may be kind to me by day. The moonlight was in fault ; a teasin' light For fair caprice, and ways of fairy folk. I'll go direct to her, to Nellie Doyne, So good, so merry, and so light of foot — Ho, ho! Some fellow's sHpped his mighty brogues. The size of him ! Ye saints, the size of him ! They move! The fairies are about — Oh ! Nellie, sweetheart, rise ! What troubles you ? These brogues ! — what do they here ? Nellie. Just restin' here, you see. There's naught to do; Me Uncle Jerry '11 be returnin' soon. Ormond. They're fast! The little people did the thing. I've heard of such before — 'twas long ago. Perhaps they will come off. Nellie. They'll not come off. To them me feet will grow. A cripple shall I always be, and bring 111 luck to those who love me thrue. Ormond. Take heart, colleen; there's sure a cure for such. The priest might know — Nellie. There is no cure. 'Tis patience, only, that The saints can bring; me punishment is just. Now go. Ormond. The thought of you ! I'll not be goin' yet. Nellie. More ugly shall I grow as years go by. And heavier'll be me feet as years go by. Ormond. Oh, ugly you can never be, perhaps 22 THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN You may be crippled, then a man you'll need Who's strong with love. No more have I that's worth Your takin', Nellie Doyne — just love. Nellie. With these you'd love me ! See, just see the look! Ormond. 'Twas not the dancin' maid I loved, but just Yourself. Now rise, me little one. Nellie. It's very good you are to me. Ormond. I may not bear the pain ! There, now you're up. Nellie. Oh, Ormond ! dim it is, yet in me sleep I think the way to loose the brogues was said. Ormond. They do sometimes reveal. Oh, think what 'twas ! You do recall ? There's somthin' I may do ? Nellie. A man ... I must be thinkin' . . . thinkin' — ah ! — You go at once, and get good Father Joyce ! Ormond. Yes, yes, I go. Just rest you on this stump. No hurry ; careful ! Now you'll rest at ease. Nellie. Not up the glen ! Go on to uncle's house ; The priest consults with him ere now. Ormond. Are you afraid? It's all alone you'll be. Nellie. Oh, no, not any fear at all ; but haste ! No wait. If uncle's not at home, go on. Me uncle might go round to meet the priest; The glen's too steep for him to climb — ^with speed. Return the glen way, sure. Ormond. Oh, yes, returnin' by the glen. Good-bye. — You rest at ease? THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN 23 • Nellie. I'll rest if you but haste. — And now he's gone, Deceived again by Nellie Doyne. Alas ! "A man who's brave and thrue may break the spell " — He's that—" and only such may loose the brogues." So said the page ; and yet ! . . . It is meself must see the good priest first, For it's no risk shall Ormond take for me, No risk at all. He's not to know of this ; Not take these brogues away. — But oh, the pain ! — Who comes? Uncle Jerry. Take heart, me child, it's wid the praist I come. Just skippin' down the glen, for sure, we are. — No stumblin' at the sthream, good Father Joyce. Father Joyce. 'Twas you, me mon ; I am too spry for that! Uncle Jerry. Just see me jump! Father Joyce. The water's clane; no harm! — So here's the maid. Good-mornin', daughter, sure there's help ; be brave. Just let me steady this gossoon a bit. — Hold fast. — 'Tis just the thrick of little people, child. Nellie. Good-mornin', Father Joyce, it's kind you are To come. It was revealed — the cure. Uncle Jerry. Ye were desavin' me ! Nellie. I did but now recall. But, Father Joyce, It's harm might come to Or — Should — Father Joyce. I think I understand. No harm you'd bring. — Some friends approach. Nellie. Ah, voices ! Uncle, step before the brogues. 24 THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN Father Joyce. 'Tis Rose and Denny. See, the stile's too high For Rose to climb without much help. Denny. 'Tis thrue; oh, yes, you are more fair by day. Rose. Now, Denny, sure, more fair by day? Father Joyce. Good-mornin', fair's the day ; for you 'tis fair. Rose. Ah! Denny. Good-momin', Father Joyce. Father Joyce. Your friend, sure, bides with heavy heart the while ; The great, thonged brogues are fast upon her fate. The little people put them on the child. They do when mortals are o'erbold, or have Displeased them in some other way. Be kind To Nellie Doyne. Rose. Oh, Nellie dear, a shame to them, for sure 1 Denny. Indeed, it's awful havin' such! Denny and Rose. Ha, ha! Ha, ha! Rose. Forgive us, Nellie, please ! So queer they are At first. They're on for just a Httle while. Father Joyce. Just that. The way to shlip the brogues was said. — Rapate, rapate, me child! Nellie. A man who's brave and thrue — Father Joyce. And Irish, too. At laste that would be well. Nellie. May break the spell, and free me from the brogues. This man so very brave and thrue must quite Outdance a fairy maid — Oh, Father Joyce, Do not permit — THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN 25 Father Joyce. In sthress the saints do lift, a bit for such. The thrial comes to-night at twelve, if fair ; The maiden suffers. 'Twill be fair, I think. Rose. Now, Denny, you're to dance. 'Twas you who did Most twit me cousin Ormond on his fears. Now prove that you've no fears. Denny. I'll thry the dancin'. — Father, you permit? I see that Ormond's not about to take The honor. Nellie. It's nothin' that he knows at all of this. He'll know in time; oh, yes, in time — enough; It's Father Joyce will see to that. Father Joyce. I'll see to that. I'm thinkin', Denny, good may come to you If you're for thryin' ; thryin's good for some. Uncle Jerry. I'm thinkin' there's another mon should thry; No Denny burstin' with consate should dance; Meself can foot it foine ; I'm not so old ; I'd great skill once. The father '11 tell you so. Father Joyce. Yes, once. Uncle Jerry. The word you give that I may dance? I'll win. Father Joyce. You'd better not, me friend. The fiery gold That's melted in your cup has tempted you These many years. You could have none o' that. By moonrise, mon, you w^ould not feel so young. Uncle Jerry. 'Tis certain now that I should dance and prove That melted gold ('Tis foine, that name you give!) 26 THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN Is good for ony mon. I'll stand for that, And for me fam'ly name. The fairy brogues — I see 'em rollin' off of Nellie now ! Father Joyce. Well, thry. Perhaps 'tis well that you should thry. Nellie. You're all good friends to me. Oh, yes, you're good. But Denny must not thry, 'twill bring to him 111 luck, to Rose ill luck. And, uncle dear. You could not dance; I know what they can do. Good uncle, take me home, so tired I am ; Besides — enough, I am so tired. Uncle Jerry, She fears them yit, the people of the glen. The poor colleen ! Father Joyce. Here, men, a chair, loike this, of hands and arms. Now gently lift. — There, child, you've had no hurt. Uncle Jerry. We dance. I'm first, and there'll be nothin' more. It's small consate ye'll have when J am done. You dancin' Denny, there ! Father Joyce. I am returnin' by the glen, me child. Kape up your heart; the end's not far away. — At moonrise then, we'll all be here. No more, You understand. Denny. But Ormond, Father Joyce? Father Joyce. But Ormond? Yes, of course, lave that to me. Good-mornin', all. Nellie. Oh, Father Joyce, for just a little way Please come with us. You will ? Oh, many thanks ! — Yes, Rose, it's kind you are to cover me THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN 27 Great feet. Your apron's wide, indeed! Uncle Jerry. You'll not be lookin' up the glen; home's yon. Father Joyce. Just hear the birds ! I heard one singin' clare, " There's hope, swate Nellie Doyne." All. Ha, ha! SCENE SECOND In the moonlit glen the next evening. Father Joyce. All here ? Young folks ? And Jerry too — best clothes! — Some tight are they, me mon ? Don't rise for me, Poor Nellie, child. Who's weepin' at the stile? Denny. It's Rose, lest I should come to harm. Father Joyce. All here, and with good heart. Of coorse, you've that. These small, wise people dale out cunnin' cures. But no great mischief is permitted them. Uncle Jerry. Your kinsman, Nellie, should be danc- in' first. 'Tis most the time yon moon rides white and high. Denny. For Nellie Doyne then Ormond's not to dance ? Or is he standin' there beyond the stile ? Nellie. The hour— perhaps he does not know the hour. We must not wait and lose the chance ; oh, no ! Father Joyce. We'll not. And are we ready for the call? 28 THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN Rose. Oh, Father Joyce, consent that Denny thries At once. The fairy folks may take offense If you permit the older man on first. It's none shall say that Denny does wish that. Father Joyce. I do consint. — And, Jerry, you must yield. Denny. I'm ready, Father Joyce. Father Joyce. Good people, hear ! Two men who're Irish sure. Both brave, both thrue — 'tis thought they're that — await. They seek the chance to dance away the brogues That cripple now the fate of Nellie Doyne. If each be thrue, and seek not fame the night, But just would help the maid, be very kind — In ony case be kind. I now command That you appear. Uncle Jerry. It's moonbeams in a dance! No, glen folks come, And loike the wind ; a slim gossoon's ahead. And he's for spakin' to the praist. Nellie. The queen's not there. Uncle Jerry. She's there; from nowhere she just came. Jack. A mortal is to dance away the brogues. That now do burden Nellie Doyne ; we hear. Fairies. We hear ! We hear ! Father Joyce. Aright, Sir Page. Denny. Her majesty, the queen, will she consent To dance with me? I'm Irish, thrue, and brave. Fairies. Oh, oh ! Thistledown. But see her star blaze red ! THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN 29 Jack. The queen! You asked the queen to name the maid Who'd dance. 'Twas that you asked. — But point her out, your majesty. This one? It's Firefly who's to dance. Alas, poor man ! Denny. Your servant, lady. May we now begin? Fireiiy. So grand a youth ! Oh, yes, begin. Briar. How fine his bow ! Peata. Just try again — again! Thistledoivn. Just once again — yet lower still. Fairies. Ha, ha ! Ha, ha ! Jack. Our Firefly's done for him! Rose. What was it that she threw? He does not move. Briar. Oh, Firefly, dance! Thistledown. To see her dance so lightly o'er the oaf The queen herself must smile. Fireiiy. What's this ? — the youth who was to dance with me? Oh, take the thing away ! Jack. Now drag him off ; take hold, Peata. What fun ! And shall we pinch ? Fairies. We shall. Rose. Oh, Denny, come to me ! It's dazed and hurt, He is ! — Poor boy ! Jack. Good father, did you say that two were here To dance away the brogues ? Uncle Jerry. Aye, sure he did, and something more this dance Is loike to prove. — Your pardon, Father Joyce, But I must have a drop. Father Joyce. No more, at all. It will undo you, mon. 30 THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN Uncle Jerry. I'll lave the bottle handy on the ring. The thrial : ready sure I am. Briar. But hist! I'll taste — oh, fire! I'm burning up! The pool ! that Jerry does drink fire. Fairies. Ho, ho ! Ho, ho ! Have more ; yes do ! Nellie. It is no use, good uncle, none at all. Oh, do not thry ! Uncle Jerry. Let be, your Uncle Jerry's goin' to dance. But look you there ! me bottle's overturned ! The waste of it I Jack. Who is to dance, your majesty? This one? — ■ Wee Peata is to dance. Peata. I thank the queen. And here's the man so brave ? A dancer ! Yes, the music shall be quick. Uncle Jerry. It's your fair self must be excusin' me, If I'm not bo win' down me head so low, Me heart is at your fate, and ever must These eyes kape turnin' toward your own swate face. Fairies. " Kape turnin' " ! Ah, ha, ha ! Peata. And that he shall. I'll circle round the man. Jack. The music, please, for Jerry Gallagher. Briar. His step's not old. Firefly. Our Peata winds him up. Oh, see the fun ! Briar. He's clutching at the air! Fairies. " Kape turnin'," man. Ha, ha ! Ha, ha ! Jack. Now over, over — ^gone! His legs yet move. Uncle Jerry. Just kape it up, fair maid, I'm goin' yit, I'm Irish yit, and thrue — maybe I'm that — But sober, sure. THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN 31 Firefly. Stop laughing, Peata, stop; you will forget The step. Jack. He's looking for the bottle. Now he's still. Nellie. Oh, Father Joyce, it's dead he is! Father Joyce. No, child, not dead at all. Alas, poor mon. They roll him to the path. Now we take hold. Where's Denny ? — Here, step up and help a bit. — Not Nellie! Back, me daughter, back! Firefly. Oh, see the feet, the dainty, dainty feet Of NeUie Doyne! Ha, ha! Ha, ha! Fairies. Oh, ho ! Oh, ho ! Nellie. Oh, hide me, Father Joyce! Peata. And when those feet have grown, where will they be? Thistledown. The queen ! She's looking at her own wee feet — But hush ! who comes ? Nellie. His voice! it's comin' near! — Oh, Ormond, why. Why did you come? Ormond. Be heedin' me ; I did mistake the hour — Father Joyce. Mistake ! I named the hour ; you hit it square. It's two have danced ; you see the brogues are fast. Ormond. I heard that Denny was to dance. — My thanks. — I may go on at once, good Father Joyce? Nellie. — Oh, Ormond, do not dance ! Ormond. No, Nellie, no ; this dancin' hinder not. Uncle Jerry. Me sense has come, at laste a bit has come. So Ormond is to thry.— Well, dance, me lad, 32 THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN But don't be lookin' at the beauty there. Ormond. And Uncle Jerry danced! Uncle Jerry. I must rapate, don't look at all upon Her pretty face; just dance. Ormond. Oh, no, be just attendin' to the dance. Some other time fair Nellie's face I'll see. I now may go ? Uncle Jerry. It's very young he is ; not wise, loike me. Loike me, alas ! I may be learnin' yit ; " I'm not so old." Father Joyce. Yes, go, me son, the saints do know your heart. Ormond. Oh, Nellie, I must dance. You heed the priest. Jack. Make way. Who dances with this youth? Peata. A splendid youth ! Think you the queen has fear That he — Firefly. Oh, hush ! She stands, she sees us all. Queen. The queen will dance. Fairies. Most gracious queen ! Uncle Jerry. Oh, worse the luck ! Me child is faint- in'!— Child! Nellie. Not faintin', no ! Your thought for him. Peata. Such music ! How I'd love to try ! Jack. A wondrous dance! He does not see the queen. But just that mortal maid. Thistledown. Yet she would win a glance, the . queen. Briar. The boy looks spent; I'm glad. THE BROGUES OF KILAVAIN GLEN 33 Firefly. The priest! His hands reach out, and do revive The youth. Thistledown. His look works mischief to our queen. Firefly. I hate the priest. Jack. The queen! she droops! Now silence, all; she speaks. ^ Queen. The lad's proved brave and true, as you were sure He would, wise Father Joyce. When such are spent, Help comes. We know it will, but joy to tease The other sort, and pop their bubbles out; And so we test them all. — Maid Nellie, come ; this youth would have you near. Be not afraid, for love has set you free ; The brogues no more do burden your light feet. Rose. 'Tis thrue, — oh, Nellie dear! Nellie. I did forget the brogues ! I go? Father Joyce. Yes, go, me child; all's well. Ormond. And may I kiss your hand, most gracious queen ? Queen. 'Tis not permitted mortal man. Take you The hand of Nellie Doyne. We must away ; The dawn is near. Fairies. Away, away, away ! the dawn is here. End. .fiB 21 im A''\}- S- One copy del. to Cat. Div. i«AR ^« '^" LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 017 401 647 1 '.■««:q;>»— ' -^ _r .» '^^mS2^i^