Exiles: Literary Classics by James Joyce

Author:James Joyce [Joyce, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Authors, Literary Criticism, English; Irish; Scottish; Welsh, Drama, Dublin (Ireland)
ISBN: 9781591020752
Publisher: Prometheus Books
Published: 2003-05-01T17:07:49+00:00

Third Act

(The drawingroom of Richard Rowan's house at Merrion. The folding doors at the right are closed and also the double doors leading to the garden. The green plush curtains are drawn across the window on the left. The room is half dark. It is early in the morning of the next day. Bertha sits beside the window looking out between the curtains. She wears a loose saffron dressing gown. Her hair is combed loosely over the ears and knotted at the neck. Her hands are folded in her lap. Her face is pale and drawn.)

(Brigid comes in through the folding doors on the right with a featherbroom and duster. She is about to cross but, seeing Bertha, she halts suddenly and blesses herself instinctively.)

BRIGID

Merciful hour, ma'am. You put the heart across me. Why did you get up so early?

BERTHA

What time is it?

BRIGID

After seven, ma'am. Are you long up?

BERTHA

Some time.

BRIGID

(Approaching her.) Had you a bad dream that woke you?

BERTHA

I didn't sleep all night. So I got up to see the sun rise.

BRIGID

(Opens the double doors.) It's a lovely morning now after all the rain we had. (Turns round.) But you must be dead tired, ma'am. What will the master say at your doing a thing like that? (She goes to the door of the study and knocks.) Master Richard!

BERTHA

(Looks round.) He is not there. He went out an hour ago.

BRIGID

Out there, on the strand, is it?

BERTHA

Yes.

BRIGID

(Comes towards her and leans over the back of a chair.) Are you fretting yourself, ma'am, about anything?

BERTHA

No, Brigid.

BRIGID

Don't be. He was always like that, meandering off by himself somewhere. He is a curious bird, Master Richard, and always was. Sure there isn't a turn in him I don't know. Are you fretting now maybe because he does be in there (pointing to the study) half the night at his books? Leave him alone. He'll come back to you again. Sure he thinks the sun shines out of your face, ma'am.

BERTHA

(Sadly.) That time is gone.

BRIGID

(Confidentially.) And good cause I have to remember it-- that time when he was paying his addresses to you. (She sits down beside Bertha. In a lower voice.) Do you know that he used to tell me all about you and nothing to his mother, God rest her soul? Your letters and all.

BERTHA

What? My letters to him?

BRIGID

(Delighted.) Yes. I can see him sitting on the kitchen table, swinging his legs and spinning out of him yards of talk about you and him and Ireland and all kinds of devilment-- to an ignorant old woman like me. But that was always his way. But if he had to meet a grand highup person he'd be twice as grand himself. (Suddenly looks at Bertha.) Is it crying you are now? Ah, sure, don't cry. There's good times coming still.

BERTHA

No, Brigid, that time comes only once in a lifetime. The rest of life is good for nothing except to remember that time.

BRIGID

(Is silent for a moment: then says kindly:) Would you like a cup of tea, ma'am? That would make you all right.

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