Juno and the Paycock

Mary: What’s the use of belongin’ to a Trades Union if you won’t stand up for your principles? Why did they sack her? It was a clear case of victimization. We couldn’t let her walk the streets, could we?

Mrs Boyle: No, of course yous couldn’t—yous wanted to keep her company. Wan victim wasn’t enough. When the employers sacrifice wan victim, the Trades Unions go wan betther be sacrificin’ a hundred.

Mary: It doesn’t matther what you say, ma—a principle’s a principle.

Mrs Boyle: Yis; an’ when I go into oul’ Murphy’s tomorrow, an’ he gets to know that, instead o’ payin’ all, I’m goin’ to borry more, what’ll he say when I tell him a principle’s a principle? What’ll we do if he refuses to give us any more on tick?

Mrs Boyle: I don’t know what’s goin’ to be done with him. The bullet he got in the hip in Easter Week was bad enough, but the bomb that shatthered his arm in the fight in O ‘Connell Street put the finishin’ touch on him. I knew he was makin’ a fool of himself. God knows I went down on me bended knees to him not to go agen the Free State.

Boyle: (to Joxer, who is still outside) Come on, come on in, Joxer; she’s gone out long ago, man. If there’s nothing else to be got, we’ll furrage out a cup o’ tay, anyway. It’s the only bit I get in comfort when she’s away. ‘Tisn’t Juno should be her pet name at all, but Deirdre of the Sorras, for she’s always grousin’.

Mrs Boyle: Shovel! Ah; then, me boyo, you’d do far more work with a knife an’ fork than ever you’ll do with a shovel! If there was e’er a genuine job goin’ you’d be dh’other way about - not able to lift your arms with the pains in your legs! Your poor wife slavin’ to keep the bit in your mouth, an’ you gallivantin’ about all the day like a paycock!

Boyle: It ud be betther for a man to be dead, betther for a man to be dead.

Bentham: Juno! What an interesting name! It reminds one of Homer’s glorious story of ancient gods and heroes.

Boyle: Yis, doesn’t it? You see, Juno was born an’ christened in June; I met her in June; we were married in June, an’ Johnny was born in June, so wan day I says to her, ‘You should ha’ been called Juno,’ an’ the name stuck to her ever since.

Boyle: He’ll never blow the froth off a pint o’ mine agen, that’s a sure thing. Johnny. . . Mary. . . you’re to keep yourselves to yourselves for the future. Juno, I’m done with Joxer. . . . I’m a new man from this out . . .

(Clasping Juno’s hand, and singing emotionally)
O, me darlin’ Juno, I will be thrue to thee;
Me own, me darlin’ Juno, you’re all the world to me.

Curtain.

Mary: I don’t know what you wanted a gramophone for—I know Charlie hates them; he says they’re destructive of real music.

Boyle: Desthructive of music - that fella ud give you a pain in your face. All a gramophone wants is to be properly played; its thrue wondher is only felt when everythin’s quiet—what a gramophone wants is dead silence!

Bentham: It’s hard to explain in a few words: Theosophy’s founded on The Vedas, the religious books of the East. Its central theme is the existence of an all-pervading Spirit—the Life-Breath. Nothing really exists but this one Universal Life-Breath. And whatever even seems to exist separately from this Life-Breath, doesn’t really exist at all. It is all vital force in man, in all animals, and in all vegetation. This Life-Breath is called the Prawna.

Mrs Boyle: The Prawna! What a comical name!

Boyle: Prawna; yis, the Prawna. (Blowing gently through his lips) That’s the Prawna!

Joxer: Sure, the house couldn’t hould them lately; an’ he goin’ about like a mastherpiece of the Free State counthry; forgettin’ their friends; forgettin’ God - wouldn’t even lift his hat passin’ a chapel! Sure they were bound to get a dhrop! An’ you really think there’s no money comin’ to him afther all?

Boyle: Oh, isn’t this a nice thing to come on top o’ me, an’ the state I’m in! A pretty show I’ll be to Joxer an’ to that oul’ wan, Madigan! Amn’t I afther goin’ through enough without havin’ to go through this!

Mrs Boyle: What you an’ I’ll have to go through’ll be nothin’ to what poor Mary’ll have to go through; for you an’ me is middlin’ old, an’ most of our years is spent; but Mary’ll have maybe forty years to face an’ handle, an’ every wan of them’ll be tainted with a bitther memory.

Boyle: Where is she? Where is she till I tell her off? I’m tellin’ you when I’m done with her she’ll be a sorry girl!

Mrs. Boyle: Maybe I didn’t feel sorry enough for Mrs Tancred when her poor son was found as Johnny’s been found now - because he was a Die-hard! Ah, why didn’t I remember that then he wasn’t a Diehard or a Stater, but only a poor dead son! It’s well I remember all that she said - an’ it’s my turn to say it now: What was the pain I suffered, Johnny, bringin’ you into the world to carry you to your cradle, to the pains I’ll suffer carryin’ you out o’ the world to bring you to your grave! Mother o’ God, Mother o’ God, have pity on us all! Blessed Virgin, where were you when me darlin’ son was riddled with bullets […]? Sacred Heart o’ Jesus, take away our hearts o’ stone, and give us hearts o’ flesh! Take away this murdherin’ hate, an’ give us Thine own eternal love!

Boyle: I’m able to go no farther…. Two polis, e y…what were they doin’ here, I wondher? …Up to no good, anyhow… an’ Juno an’ that lovely daughter o’ mine with them. (Taking a sixpence from his pocket and looking at it) Wan single, solithary tanner left out of all I borreyed .... (He lets it fall.) The last o’ the Mohicans…. The blinds is down, Joxer, the blinds is down!

Mary: What’s the use of belongin’ to a Trades Union if you won’t stand up for your principles? Why did they sack her? It was a clear case of victimization. We couldn’t let her walk the streets, could we?

Mrs Boyle: No, of course yous couldn’t—yous wanted to keep her company. Wan victim wasn’t enough. When the employers sacrifice wan victim, the Trades Unions go wan betther be sacrificin’ a hundred.

Mary: It doesn’t matther what you say, ma—a principle’s a principle.

Mrs Boyle: Yis; an’ when I go into oul’ Murphy’s tomorrow, an’ he gets to know that, instead o’ payin’ all, I’m goin’ to borry more, what’ll he say when I tell him a principle’s a principle? What’ll we do if he refuses to give us any more on tick?

Mrs Boyle: I don’t know what’s goin’ to be done with him. The bullet he got in the hip in Easter Week was bad enough, but the bomb that shatthered his arm in the fight in O ‘Connell Street put the finishin’ touch on him. I knew he was makin’ a fool of himself. God knows I went down on me bended knees to him not to go agen the Free State.

Boyle: (to Joxer, who is still outside) Come on, come on in, Joxer; she’s gone out long ago, man. If there’s nothing else to be got, we’ll furrage out a cup o’ tay, anyway. It’s the only bit I get in comfort when she’s away. ‘Tisn’t Juno should be her pet name at all, but Deirdre of the Sorras, for she’s always grousin’.

Mrs Boyle: Shovel! Ah; then, me boyo, you’d do far more work with a knife an’ fork than ever you’ll do with a shovel! If there was e’er a genuine job goin’ you’d be dh’other way about - not able to lift your arms with the pains in your legs! Your poor wife slavin’ to keep the bit in your mouth, an’ you gallivantin’ about all the day like a paycock!

Boyle: It ud be betther for a man to be dead, betther for a man to be dead.

Bentham: Juno! What an interesting name! It reminds one of Homer’s glorious story of ancient gods and heroes.

Boyle: Yis, doesn’t it? You see, Juno was born an’ christened in June; I met her in June; we were married in June, an’ Johnny was born in June, so wan day I says to her, ‘You should ha’ been called Juno,’ an’ the name stuck to her ever since.

Boyle: He’ll never blow the froth off a pint o’ mine agen, that’s a sure thing. Johnny. . . Mary. . . you’re to keep yourselves to yourselves for the future. Juno, I’m done with Joxer. . . . I’m a new man from this out . . .

(Clasping Juno’s hand, and singing emotionally)
O, me darlin’ Juno, I will be thrue to thee;
Me own, me darlin’ Juno, you’re all the world to me.

Curtain.

Mary: I don’t know what you wanted a gramophone for—I know Charlie hates them; he says they’re destructive of real music.

Boyle: Desthructive of music - that fella ud give you a pain in your face. All a gramophone wants is to be properly played; its thrue wondher is only felt when everythin’s quiet—what a gramophone wants is dead silence!

Bentham: It’s hard to explain in a few words: Theosophy’s founded on The Vedas, the religious books of the East. Its central theme is the existence of an all-pervading Spirit—the Life-Breath. Nothing really exists but this one Universal Life-Breath. And whatever even seems to exist separately from this Life-Breath, doesn’t really exist at all. It is all vital force in man, in all animals, and in all vegetation. This Life-Breath is called the Prawna.

Mrs Boyle: The Prawna! What a comical name!

Boyle: Prawna; yis, the Prawna. (Blowing gently through his lips) That’s the Prawna!

Joxer: Sure, the house couldn’t hould them lately; an’ he goin’ about like a mastherpiece of the Free State counthry; forgettin’ their friends; forgettin’ God - wouldn’t even lift his hat passin’ a chapel! Sure they were bound to get a dhrop! An’ you really think there’s no money comin’ to him afther all?

Boyle: Oh, isn’t this a nice thing to come on top o’ me, an’ the state I’m in! A pretty show I’ll be to Joxer an’ to that oul’ wan, Madigan! Amn’t I afther goin’ through enough without havin’ to go through this!

Mrs Boyle: What you an’ I’ll have to go through’ll be nothin’ to what poor Mary’ll have to go through; for you an’ me is middlin’ old, an’ most of our years is spent; but Mary’ll have maybe forty years to face an’ handle, an’ every wan of them’ll be tainted with a bitther memory.

Boyle: Where is she? Where is she till I tell her off? I’m tellin’ you when I’m done with her she’ll be a sorry girl!

Mrs. Boyle: Maybe I didn’t feel sorry enough for Mrs Tancred when her poor son was found as Johnny’s been found now - because he was a Die-hard! Ah, why didn’t I remember that then he wasn’t a Diehard or a Stater, but only a poor dead son! It’s well I remember all that she said - an’ it’s my turn to say it now: What was the pain I suffered, Johnny, bringin’ you into the world to carry you to your cradle, to the pains I’ll suffer carryin’ you out o’ the world to bring you to your grave! Mother o’ God, Mother o’ God, have pity on us all! Blessed Virgin, where were you when me darlin’ son was riddled with bullets […]? Sacred Heart o’ Jesus, take away our hearts o’ stone, and give us hearts o’ flesh! Take away this murdherin’ hate, an’ give us Thine own eternal love!

Boyle: I’m able to go no farther…. Two polis, e y…what were they doin’ here, I wondher? …Up to no good, anyhow… an’ Juno an’ that lovely daughter o’ mine with them. (Taking a sixpence from his pocket and looking at it) Wan single, solithary tanner left out of all I borreyed .... (He lets it fall.) The last o’ the Mohicans…. The blinds is down, Joxer, the blinds is down!