Sharon's Grave E-Book

John B. Keane

• Herausgeber: Progress House
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 1994

Seitenzahl: 143

Beschreibung

Sharon's Grave deals with a man's ruthless lust for land, which overrides all family loyalties, and can ultimately lead to tragedy. In The Crazy Wall, John B. Keane loses none of his realistic force in creating the powerful symbol of the wall that Michael Barrett erects. The Man from Clare deals with the personal tragedy of an ageing athlete who finds he no longer has the physical strength to maintain his position as captain of the team, or his reputation as the best footballer in Clare.

Leseprobe

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First published in 1961 by Progress House (Publications) Ltd.

This edition 1994

© The Estate of John B. Keane

ISBN:   978 1 89817 502 5

Epub ISBN: 978 1 78117 553 8

Mobi ISBN: 978 1 78117 554 5

This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly

To Michael Ó h-Aodha

Sharon’s Grave was first produced at the Father Mathew Hall, Cork, on 1 February 1960, by the Southern Theatre Group, with the following cast

Donal Conlee

Charles Ginnane

Peadar Minogue

Seamus Moynihan

Trassie Conlee

Maura Hassett

Neelus Conlee

Michael Twomey

Dinzie Conlee

Eamon Keane

Jack Conlee

Flor Dullea

Mague

Marie Twomey

Moll

Maire McLoughlin

Tom Shaun

Tom Vesey

Miss Dee

Kay Healy

Pats Bo Bwee

James N. Healy

The play was produced by Dan Donovan, with settings by Frank Sanquest.

This new version of Sharon’s Grave was first presented by The Gate Theatre on 25 July 1995 with the following cast:

Donal Conlee

Cecil Bell

Peadar Minogue

Stephen Hogan

Trassie Conlee

Catherine Byrne

Neelus Conlee

Brian O’Byrne

Dinzie Conlee

Mark O’Regan

Jack Conlee

Pat Kinevane

Miss Dee

Caroline Gray

Pats Bo Bwee

John Olohan

Chorus

Elizabeth Bracken

Olivia Caffrey

Amelia Crowley

Eileen McCloskey

Jennifer O’Dea

The play was produced by Ben Barnes, with settings by Frank Conway, costume design by Jo Taylor and lightning by Tina MacHugh

Act One Scene One

The action takes place in a bedroom in a small farmhouse on an isolated headland on the south-western seaboard of Ireland.

From the window, and through the open door, can be seen a dreary stretch of mountain, falling down to the sea. Crooked thorn-trees are everywhere along the mountainside and distant crags are evident also.

The room is poorly furnished. A large iron bed. An old iron washstand, in which a basin and ewer are deposited. A small wooden table, and hanging over the bed a large St Brigid’s Cross.

An old man, emaciated, with white, scant hair, sits, propped by pillows, on the bed. He faces the audience. A bright quilt covers his lower body. In his hands a rosary beads rests. He would appear to be asleep.

The time is a late evening in March-ending, the year 1925. A knock is heard at the front door.

The man on the bed inclines his body barely, but does not otherwise heed the knock. The knock occurs secondly. A little louder. No movement from the old man on the bed. The latch on the door lifts and the door opens. Enter Peadar Minogue. He is a well-made man, 35 or so, with a weather-beaten copper-coloured face. He wears an old felt hat on his head, an old three-quarter length leather jacket and strong boots. His trouser-ends are tucked inside his rough socks. He carries a large satchel on his back.

For a while he looks at the form on the bed, and then peers closely at the old man ...

Peadar: (Tentatively) In pardon to you, sir. Could I disturb you?

(The old man does not move)

              If you’re asleep, sir, I won’t wake you. Maybe you’re only dozing and you might hear me. I’m looking for directions. (Looks around room) Maybe I’m in the right house, but I don’t know. (Doubtfully, to himself) I shouldn’t be here if ’tis the wrong house, disturbing people in their privacy, stealing into a place and witnessing things not meant for me. (Then, kindly, to the old man) Sleep your good sleep, old man.

(The old man stirs but barely, and inclines his head to Peadar, who bends near him. The old man moans a little, tries to convey something, fails, and is still again)

              Would you be sick now, by any chance, and not be able to dress your thoughts in words? I don’t know! (Turns and surveys the room again) If you’re sick, there will be somebody attending to you before we’re older. I hope it isn’t sick you are but asleep. I hope somebody comes in. I’ll bide my time. They’ll hardly turn me away. (Takes off his satchel, places it on the floor, tiptoes to the window, peers out ) No sign of a being or animal to be seen!

(Peadar turns from the window, goes to the door, opens it and looks out, and stands a while in thought, looking into the distance. As he stands thus, a woman enters, silently, from the left. She is dressed in a dark frock, covered by a sacking apron, and wears strong boots. A cloth is tied tightly about her hair. She carries a bunch of daffodils in one hand and a short-stemmed earthenware vase in the other. She is slightly startled and looks in perplexity at Peadar, who does not see her. She makes a sound and Peadar wheels suddenly and looks at her, sweeping off his hat and clutching it in his hands. The woman is Trassie Conlee, thirtyish, of good carriage)

Trassie: Who are you?

Peadar: My name is Peadar Minogue.

Trassie: Peadar Minogue! There are no Minogues in these parts.

Peadar: I am not from these parts. Is this the townland of Baltavinn?

Trassie: It is!

Peadar: Would this, by any chance, be the house of Donal Conlee?

Trassie: It is. That’s Donal Conlee there in the bed.

Peadar: (Looks at Donal) It’s a strange thing to see a door leading into a bedroom, a door any man might walk in from the road.

Trassie: There were two holdings here in time gone. There are two doors still. We often thought to close one.

Peadar: Who are you?

Trassie: I am Trassie Conlee, his daughter (Indicating bed). He isn’t well.

Peadar: I thought he might be sick.

Trassie: Would you sit down?

Peadar: Thanks, I will. (Closes door) There is a fall of ground the whole way from here to the sea, I saw from the door. A healthy place and a wholesome place to live in. There is no air like the sea air.

Trassie: You can hear the sea here all of the time while there is quietness; at night above all. The sea is all around you. We live on a headland here.

Peadar: I saw that from the rise of ground. Not many houses hereabouts?

(Peadar circles and sits on a chair at the left of the bed. Trassie places flowers in a vase and places the vase on a table)

Trassie: (Notices satchel) Did you come far today?

Peadar: From Carraig Head.

Trassie: A good journey. You must have business in these parts?

Peadar:I’m a journeyman thatcher. I heard there were houses in the townland of Baltavinn that needed thatching.

Trassie:It’s early in the year now for thatching.

Peadar:Work is hard to come by. No harm to try here for it. I saw the thatch of this house from the road. ’Tis rotting in every quarter. I heard in the next townland – Roseerin, I think they call it – that I would find a few day’s work in the house of Donal Conlee. They never said a word about there being sickness in the house.

Trassie:They’ll never say that! ’Twas a pity you came so far with a false account. Anyway, while you’re here, you’ll drink tea.

Peadar:No ... No ... Don’t bother yourself ... you have enough to think of ...

Trassie:I would be making it, anyway. I have a brother – Neelus; he is carting seaweed with the pony.

Peadar:It’s good to have somebody in the house with you, especially with sickness.

Trassie:Did they tell you in Roseerin about him?

Peadar:Your brother?

Trassie:Yes, my brother.

Peadar:No word of him. His name was not drawn down one way or the other.

Trassie:Did they say anything about me?

Peadar:No! (Significantly) Only that the house of Donal Conlee would fall if it wasn’t thatched.

Trassie:(Smiling) Looking for custom are you?

Peadar:Only what they said. (Smiles) A man in search of work will go all roads to come by it.

Trassie:What did they say about my brother Neelus?

Peadar:(Smiles faintly) There was no mention of him. Why do you ask the second time?

Trassie:(Re-arranging the clothes on the bed, hesitantly) Neelus is strange. He is a good worker – a great worker, but he is a small bit strange. People here in Baltavinn are saying he thinks of nothing but women, day in, day out; nothing but women! They do not know he is kind and gentle and they do not know he will wash the ware for me after the meals and make the beds. All they say is that he is mad for women! Which is a lie for them.

Peadar:Are there no women in Baltavinn?

Trassie:(Surprised) There are no girls here, only myself.

Peadar:Are there many men?

Trassie:Only a few, but all would marry if they could. There are no women of my age here. The famine swept most of ’em years ago and the ships took the rest.

Peadar:(Indicating the old man) What sickness has he?

Trassie:The heart! Three different attacks he has put over him. He was anointed yesterday by the priest. The doctor said there was only a little life left in him.

Peadar:What did the priest say?

Trassie:That he was not long for this world – to expect it any minute.

Peadar:The tag of death is on all of us. (Sympathetically) He looks to be a good age. A life lived out is no loss much.

Trassie:No loss to you.

Peadar:True. (There is silence between them)

Trassie:Is there anything else you do but thatch?

Peadar:I will do any work that will give me a good diet, a fire to warm by, and a bed to sleep in.

Trassie:Are you a married man?

Peadar:No! Travelling from one parish to another – no woman wants a man who won’t sit still.

Trassie:(Listening attitude) That’s Neelus putting the pony in.

(Peadar rises)

Trassie:Stay sitting, let you. There is no harm in him only foolishness. Stay sitting and don’t be put astray by what he tells you. I’ll put your bag out of the way.

(Trassie takes the bag and exits left with it. Peadar surveys the man in the bed, rises, and looks out the window curi-ously. Enter Trassie)

Trassie:Why are you looking out?

Peadar:No harm intended ... (Doubtfully) If I should go, tell me!

Trassie:Wait and have tea. Sit down, or he will be asking questions about you. Surely you will have a mouthful of tea and a forkful of meat cold before you go. (Suggestive) Or maybe ’tis how you’re afraid of things you do not meet every day.

Peadar:I’m not afraid, but I would hate to be the cause of upsetting the house by staying a while.

Trassie:There is no fear you will do that, but a sweet plate of bacon would give you heart for your journey.

Peadar:You make me feel hungry. (Pause) Does he know his father is bad?

Trassie:In his own way. A different way from ours, but he knows. He knows something is wrong. He is worried from that.

Peadar:(Nods his head understanding) Did he ever give you trouble?

Trassie:Not him! He is always helpful. Anything I tell him do, he will do. (Worried) Not him, but others are always making trouble.

(Peadar looks at her for a spell and returns to his chair)

Trassie:(Change of tone) Of a Sunday Neelus will go down to Carraig Head and go in hiding about the cliffs. He will spend his day watching the sea. If the sea is wild and making noise, he will come home deaf and you might as well be idle as to try and talk to him. If the sea is resting, he will come home saying things to himself ... strange things. (Awkwardly) He talks of the wind and the sea and Sharon’s grave ...

Peadar:(Solemnly) Some men are like that from thinking too much about women.

(Peadar stirs nervously in his chair. Enter Neelus Conlee from the left. He is twentyish, dressed in tattered smock and waders. He has a vacant look, yet is handsome and refined of face. He looks puzzled when he sees Peadar)

Trassie:This is Peadar Minogue, Neelus. He was passing the road and he called, asking the way ...

Neelus:(Smiling) Peadar Minogue ... Trassie ...

(Trassie looks hopefully at Peadar)

Peadar:Very happy to meet you.

Neelus:(Shakes hands with Peadar) Pleased the same.

Peadar:(Tentatively) I heard good things about you.

Neelus:(Suspicious) Where did you hear them?

Peadar:Oh, lots of places ... Glounsharoon and Coilbwee and Kilbaha. Everywhere you could imagine.

Neelus:(Hurtfully) What used they be saying about me?

Peadar:Oh, you know the way people do be?

Neelus:Used they be telling you about me and the women? (Peadar looks doubtfully at Trassie)

Trassie:I’ll lay the table for the tea. (Moves towards the left, then loudly to Neelus) If he wakes, call me.

(Exit Trassie. Neelus moves closer to Peadar)

Neelus:Go on about the women.

Peadar:(Doubtfully, delicately) They were saying you were a gifted hand with the ladies.

Neelus:Were they telling you about me and Sharon with her golden hair? (Cautiously) And Shíofra, the little vixen, with her face like the storm?

Peadar:(Thoughtfully, weighing up Neelus) It seems to come to me that I heard talks of you and these women you mention. (Sureness) Yes, I heard tell of it in several places. Yes, I’m sure now I did.

Neelus:They don’t believe it, you know – a lot of them. They do be laughing at me, especially the girls in the mainland when we go to the chapel on a Sunday. I’ve seen them pointing me out (Cautiously) and I’ve heard giggling and whispering. Sharon has beautiful hair, red and golden like the sunset (Elaborates with his hands) shining like the summer sea and her skin as white as new milk and her voice is rich and deep and sweeter than the voice of a thrush. You never saw her golden hair?

Peadar:No, I never saw her golden hair but I have heard of it. Of course I know the way a girl’s hair is and I can imagine what Sharon’s would be like.

Neelus:(Shrewdly) What did you hear about it?

Peadar:I have forgotten most of it but I remember to hear it was brighter than gold.

(Neelus studies him suspiciously, and is then apparently satisfied)

Neelus:Shíofra is a little demon.

Peadar:Shíofra?

Neelus:Did you see Sharon’s grave when you were coming here?

Peadar:No.

Neelus:(Looks about cautiously and confides to Peadar) Did you not hear of it?

Peadar:(Interested) What about it?

Neelus:(Withdrawing a little – astonished) You never heard tell of Sharon’s grave?

(There is a distant look about him and awe in his voice)

It’s a great deep hole over there on the cliffs. There is no bottom to it. It sinks down into the middle of the earth and water is always wild and wilful in it, , even when the rest of the sea is calm.

Peadar: Why is it called Sharon’s grave?

Neelus: (Suddenly brought back to reality, eager to relate his obsession) Sharon was a young princess of ancient times. Her father was a powerful chieftain in the county of Tyrconnell in the North country. Sharon was gentler than a doe and sweeter than wild honey. Her wild hair fell down over her white shoulders like a golden cape. (Looks out the window, a sad note in his voice) Sharon was travelling on horseback to the rich country of the Maharees down the coast. She was being married to a handsome chieftain with far lands and a tall castle rising over the sea ... (He pauses)

Peadar: Go on! What’s the rest of the story?

Neelus: Shíofra was the name of Sharon’s handmaiden. She was swarthy and humped and ugly and jealous of Sharon because Sharon was so beautiful. She poisoned the warriors of Sharon’s father and there was no one left to help poor Sharon (Reflective sadness), poor beautiful Sharon, and the old people say that Shíofra whispered a spell in the horse’s ear when they were passing the great hole down below and the animal reared and jumped into the hole with Sharon upon its back ...

Peadar: Shíofra was an evil creature! Did she wed the young chieftain herself?

Neelus: Oh, no, indeed! (Shakes his head) No – no, indeed, she did not, for, as the horse was about to fall into the hole, Sharon made one last attempt to save herself and her fingers seized on Shíofra’s girdle and she carried the wicked woman with her.

Peadar: And that is why they call it Sharon’s grave?

Neelus: That is why! But there is more to the story. The old people say ... (