Duty, And Other Irish Comedies Part 9

MRS. FENNELL 'Tis only the likes of lawyers that have the insolence to insult dacent people. Sure when they aren't ignorant they're consated, and their wives and daughters are no better than themselves.

MR. O'CROWLEY Order, order. Unless you behave yourself, you must be placed under arrest.

MRS. FENNELL Sure, you don't think I can stand here with a tongue in me head and listen to me husband being insulted, do you?

PETER DWYER Order, order, Mrs. Fennell, please.

[_She attempts to speak again, and the sergeant places his hand over her mouth. She resents this action, and in a struggle which ensues the sergeant falls to the floor.

He is helped to his feet by Mrs. Fennell, and both look at each other in a scornful way._

SERGEANT HEALY (_to Mrs. Fennell_) 'Tis a good job for you that you're not Mrs. Healy.

MRS. FENNELL And 'tis a blessing for you that you're not Mr. Fennell.

MR. O'CROWLEY Order, order. This conduct is scandalous, Mrs. Fennell, and you must keep quiet.

MR. FENNELL You might as well be asking a whale to whistle "The Last Rose of Summer" or asking the Kaiser to become a Trappist monk.

PETER DWYER Order, order. Now please, Mrs. Fennell, come forward and give your evidence.

MRS. FENNELL All I have to say is that my husband got the delirium tramens from drinking poteen and broke every bit of furniture in the house, an' he might have killed myself.

MR. FENNELL (_very disgusted_) I wish I knew how.

MRS. FENNELL (_continuing_) Only for having the good sense of rushing to the front door and shouting for the police. I'm an orphan, your Worship, and that's why I'm here to seek protection from the court. All the same, I haven't a word to say to my husband, the cowardly ruffian, only for his love of poteen, bad temper, and contrary ways.

MR. O'CROWLEY That will do, Mrs. Fennell.

MRS. FENNELL Thanks, your Worship.

SERGEANT HEALY (_takes out his notebook. A day pipe, box of snuff, and handkerchief fall to the floor. The snuff falls on the handkerchief. He replaces the snuff box and the pipe in his pocket, and wipes his face with the snuffy handkerchief. He then opens his notebook for reference and begins_) On the night of December third _sneezes and says:_ G.o.d bless us!) I was on me rounds doin' beat duty in Market Square in the town of Ballybraggan (_Sneezes_)--G.o.d bless us!--and all of a sudden without a moment's notice, I was disturbed from me reverie of pious thought, be a great disturbance like the falling of porter barrels from the top floor of a brewery, and without saying as much as the Lord protect me, I swung to me left from whence the noise came and beheld Mrs. Fennell (_Sneeze_)--G.o.d bless us!--rushing out of her own house the way you'd see a wild Injun rushing in the moving pictures and shouting like a circus lion before his breakfast: "Police! police! police!" An' as though it was the will of Providence, I was in the very place where me presence was required.

MRS. FENNELL Accidents will happen, Sergeant.

SERGEANT They will, and disasters too, if you don't hold your tongue.

PETER DWYER Order, order.

SERGEANT HEALY (_continuing_) Well, in with me to the house without a moment's delay, and what did I see but Richard Fennell sitting in an easy chair and smoking a cigar and looking as happy an' contented as a Protestant after a meal of corn beef and cabbage on a Friday. An' the house, the Lord save us!--one would think that 'twas struck be a cyclone. The only thing that remained whole was the chair that he sat in and the decanter that fed the broken gla.s.s from which he drank the poteen.

"What brings you here?" ses he, to me. An' only I had the presence of mind of clapping the handcuffs on him before I had time to answer such an impertinent question, there might be one more above in the old churchyard and one less in this court of justice.

(_Sneezes_) G.o.d bless us! The story is nearly ended.

(_Sneezes_) G.o.d bless us! I--(_Sneezes_) G.o.d bless us!

I--(_Waits for an expected sneeze and when disappointed he says_ "Thank G.o.d!") I brought the prisoner to the barrack and have here the poteen that changed him from a law-abiding townsman into a fiend incarnate.

(_The sergeant then places the bottle of poteen on the counter, looks very hard at it, pretends to faint from sudden weakness, and asks for a drink of water_) Can I have a little water, if you please?

[_Several rush to a.s.sist him. There is no water in the court, and the clerk gets the kind of inspiration that the sergeant desires and fetches the poteen. He pours some out in a gla.s.s and gives it to the sergeant_.

PETER DWYER (_to the sergeant_) Try a little drop of the spirits, Sergeant, as there isn't a drop of water to be had. The plumbers are working at the pipes.

SERGEANT (_softly_) Bad luck to them for plumbers. They are always a nuisance. (_Before putting gla.s.s to his lips_) I suppose I must take it, because I am dry as a bona-fide traveller.

(_He finishes it all in one drink_) It doesn't taste too bad after all, and water at its best isn't much good for one who must do a lot of talking. I'll have a little more, if you please.

MR. O'CROWLEY You can't have any more, Sergeant. That would be abusing your privilege.

SERGEANT HEALY (_softly_) Alright, your Worship. When a man's as full of the law as meself, 'tis hard to remember when he's privileged.

[_The sergeant recovers and the case proceeds._

BRENNAN Ca.s.sIDY (_for Mr. Fennell_) On behalf of my client, Mr. Fennell, I wish to point out the absurdity of the charges brought against him.

For no reason whatever and without a moment's warning, the sergeant rushed into his house without an invitation or observing the laws of common propriety by ringing the bell, and ruthlessly placed handcuffs on Mr. Fennell and marched him off to prison like a common felon. And not a shadow of evidence as to misbehavior against him except the statements of his wife about the breaking of some furniture.

Now, let us suppose that Mr. Fennell did break the furniture. Was not that his own affair? The furniture was his property, and he could do with it as he pleased. Perhaps he did not like the manner in which it was designed, and Mr. Fennell, mistaking his aversion for things not in keeping with his artistic ideals, came to the conclusion that he was only on a voyage of destruction when he merely was proving how little of the philistine there was in his nature by removing from his home such articles as did not harmonize with his conception of the beautiful. The fact that the whole affair happened so hastily only goes to prove that Mr. Fennell has the artistic temperament.

MRS. FENNELL The artistic temperament, my dear! What next!

MR. Ca.s.sIDY The idea of doing away with the furniture, which Mr.

Fennell emphatically states he disliked,--and what greater proof of the fact could we have than his action in destroying it?--came to him like an inspiration, and being a true artist he seized the opportunity, and the world was made all the lovelier by the riddance of ugly things. I think, in fact, I know that I have proved that the charge of house-breaking is absurd. (_Takes out his watch, holds it in the palm of his left hand_) This watch is mine, and if I should choose to smash it into a thousand fragments, who is there to prevent me? What power has the law over such matters?

None whatever. Well, it would be just as ridiculous and absurd to punish my client for smashing his own furniture, which he purchased with his own hard earned money, as to punish me for smashing this watch if I should feel like doing so. (_Applause, which is suppressed_) To charge Mr. Fennell with drinking poteen is equally absurd. He does not know what poteen tastes like. The idea of taking a decanter and a bottle of whiskey out of any gentleman's house without his permission is tyranny of the very worst kind. It is a grievous offence in the eyes of the law as well as a breach of etiquette. What, might I ask, would happen if any of us were to break into His Worship's hotel and steal, or take if you will, some choice samples of his wines? Would we not find ourselves in a prison cell? Most a.s.suredly we would, and what's more, our good name would be gone forever.

The finger of scorn would be pointed at our children and our children's children, and posterity would never forget us.

MRS. FENNELL 'Tis only worse he's getting.

PETER DWYER Order, order.

MR. Ca.s.sIDY There is only one course for the Bench to adopt, and that is to discharge Mr. Fennell. He has already suffered enough and any one with such a ballyragging, unreasonable, unladylike, and headstrong wife deserves our sympathy.

MR. FENNELL (_with indignation_) Mr. Ca.s.sidy, sir. How dare you stand up there in my presence and insult my wife! You're no gentleman, sir. Remember when you offend my wife, you offend me. Do you hear that?

MR. O'CROWLEY This conduct is obstreperonious, Mr. Fennell. Mr.

Ca.s.sidy is a gentleman, and he must not be either insulted or interrupted, while he is judiciously discharging the duties of his high office.

MRS. FENNELL (_sighs_) Oh, G.o.d help us! The world must be turned upside down when a lawyer can be a gentleman.

MR. O'CROWLEY Hold your tongue, woman, or I'll order you to be arrested for contempt of court.

MR. FENNELL The next man who says a word to my wife must fight me.

[_b.u.t.tons his coat_.

PHELAN DUFFY (_to the magistrates_) The Bench must make due allowances for the excitement of the moment.

MR. O'CROWLEY Of course, of course, Mr. Duffy, but we must not have a reoccurrence of such conduct.

MR. FENNELL Meself and herself pulled together all these long years, and I'll be d.a.m.ned if I'll allow any one to say a word to her.

[_Mrs. Fennell places a handkerchief to her eyes and commences to cry_.

MR. O'CROWLEY Order, order, this is a court of justice, and the case must proceed without further interruption or the strictest measures of the law will be adhered to.

(_Pauses, speaks to the police_) Any one who interrupts me while I'm speaking must be ejected from the court.

SERGEANT HEALY Your Worship's orders will be obeyed.