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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4ca786f --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #55287 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55287) diff --git a/old/55287-0.txt b/old/55287-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 77b97ba..0000000 --- a/old/55287-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1930 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Price of Coal, by Harold Brighouse - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Price of Coal - A Play - -Author: Harold Brighouse - -Release Date: August 7, 2017 [EBook #55287] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRICE OF COAL *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - THE PRICE OF COAL - - By Harold Brighouse - - Gowans & Gray, Ltd., London - - 1911 - - - - FOREWORD: BY THE DIRECTOR OF THE - SCOTTISH REPERTORY THEATRE - - “The Price of Coal” came from a - Manchester author; it was in Lancashire - dialect, but was freely translated into - that of Lanarkshire, before its first - production on Monday, November 15th, - 1909. The whole week was foggy, dense, - yellow and stinking, but the audience - (whose scantiness, thanks to the fog, - was unregarded by the players), - enthusiastic outside the Theatre, as - they were within, bruited its - excellence, and the many and urgent - requests for its speedy revival were - complied with. - - It has been performed by the Repertory - Company at Carlisle, Edinburgh and - Perth, while a number of performances - have been successfully given by - amateurs. - - A. W. - - Glasgow, March, 1911. - - [EXTRACT FROM THE REPERTORY THEATRE - PROGRAMME November 1909] - - THE PRICE OF COAL - - A play in one act By Harold Brighouse - - Mary Brown, Jack Brown, Ellen Brown, - Polly Walker, - - Miss Agnes Bartholomew. Mr. R. B. - Drysdale. - - Miss Elspeth Dudgeon. Miss Lola Duncan. - - The Scene is laid in a Lanarkshire - Colliery Village. - - - - Modern industrialism has evolved its - special types, and the Lanarkshire - collier is small and wiry. He swings a - pickaxe for hours on end crouched in an - impossibly small space in heated - atmosphere, and physique on the grand - scale is unsuited to such conditions. He - takes tremendous risks as part of his - daily routine. His recreations are, to a - fastidious taste, coarse. He works hard - under ground and plays hard above - ground. Constrained attitude is so much - his second nature that he sits in - perfect comfort on his haunches, in the - pictured pose of the mild Hindoo, his - back to a wall, discussing, amongst - expectoration—a long row of him—, - football, dogs, his last spree and his - next, the police reports, women. - - Altogether a most unpleasant person, - this undersized, foul-mouthed, sporting - hewer of coal-until you come to know him - better, to discover his simplicity of - soul, his directness, his matter-of-fact - self-sacrifice, the unconscious heroism - of his life: and to lose sight of his - superficial frailties in your admiration - for his finer qualities. - - The womenkind of the colliers are marked - by the life of the pits no less than the - men. They are rough, capable housewives, - dressing with more care for durability - than effect, tolerant of their menfolks’ - weaknesses, and, above all, stamped with - the pit-side stoicism apt to be mistaken - for callousness. The sudden death of - their breadwinner is an everyday hazard, - accepted without complaint and without - concealment as part of their life. Like - their husbands, they exist from hand to - mouth on the brink of eternity. Thrift, - when any day’s work may be your last, - seems a misplaced virtue. Lean fare - approaches as pay day recedes, and - illness, meagrely provided for by - membership of a “sick” society, is tided - over in the main by the unfailing - generosity of neighbours whose own table - suffers by the charity. - - SCENE - - The scene represents the living room of - a collier’s cottage in Lanarkshire. The - room has three doors, one to the right - and one to the left, which lead to the - sleeping rooms, and one in the centre - which opens on to the village street. A - fireplace with a cooking stove set in it - is at the right. A holland blind is - drawn down at the window, but it does - not completely shut out the night, which - is now dissolving into a grey, cold - dawn, for the cheap German alarm clock - that ticks loudly on the mantleshelf - marks the hour five-thirty. When the - curtain rises the room is in darkness - save for the glint of bluish-grey light - that shows at the window. Then Mary - Brown enters from the door on the right, - she strikes a match and lights a lamp, - when you see she is a girl of about - twenty; she does not look her best, her - hair has been hurriedly screwed up, her - print blouse, murky with toil, has not - yet been fastened, she wears a draggle- - tailed skirt of sombre colour and list - slippers are on her feet. - - A small spirit-lamp is on the hob and a - little tin kettle near by; she lights - the lamp, puts the kettle on it, then - crosses to the door on the left and - knocks. - - - - - - MARY - - Are ye up, Jock? - - JOCK - - (within) - - Aw richt, A’ll be there in a meenit. - - Mary takes a plain and fairly clean - apron from a hook by the dresser and - puts it on briskly; she then takes a cup - and saucer from the rack, putting them - on the dresser, from the cupboard of - which she takes a cocoa-tin and puts a - spoonful of cocoa in the cup. Then she - takes bread and meat from the cupboard - and makes a couple of huge sandwiches. - These she puts on a tin plate, and - covering them with another tin plate, - she ties the whole in a large red - handkerchief with the ends looped for - carrying. A tin can with a screw top is - placed near by. Then, from the door at - the left, enters Jock Brown, Mary’s - cousin. - - He is dressed in his working or “black” - clothes, which may have been coloured - once but are now blackened with coal - dust. He wears no collar, but a muffler, - which, because it is doffed in the pit, - still preserves something of its - original hue, which was a bright red. - - JOCK - - A wis hardly expectin’ tae see you this - mornin’, Mary. - - MARY - - (apparently unmoved, proceeds with her - operations at the stove) - - An’ why no’, bless ye. Mebbe ye’d - raither A dragged yer mither oot o’ her - bed an’ her bad wi’ her rheumatics, tae. - - JOCK - - A could a’ dune fur masel’ for wan - mornin’. - - MARY - - Ye’d a’ made a bonnie mess o’ the job. - - JOCK - - Aw, A’m no’ a wean. - - MARY - - A can jist see ye daein’t, an’ gettin’ - doon tae the pit ahint time, tae. We - huvnae quarrell’t, huv we? - - JOCK - - Naw: no’ that A ken. - - MARY - - Then whit wey should A no’ get up and - dae fur ye jist the same as A’ve dune - near’s lang’s A can mind? - - JOCK - - A donno. - - MARY - - Naw, nor naebody else either. - - JOCK - - (disconcerted and apologetic)Weel, ye - see, A thocht mebbe that efter whit we - were sayin’ last nicht ye widnae want - tae see me this mornin’. - - MARY - - Naw, there wis naethin’ in that tae pit - us aff the usual. - - JOCK - - (with eagerness)Then, wull ye tell me—— - - MARY - - (cutting him short and putting the cocoa - on the table) There’s yer cocoa. Ye’ll - better drink it when it’s hot. - - JOCK - - (tasting)Aye. It’s hot anough onyway. - - MARY - - It’s a cauld mornin’ tae be gaun oot. - Ye’ll be nane the waur o’ somethin’ hot - this weather. - - JOCK - - Aye. A dare say it’s cauld anough, bit - the weather can wait. A’ve got somethin’ - else tae talk tae ye aboot besides the - weather. - - MARY - - Mebbe ye huv, ma boy, but ye’ll huv tae - wait till the richt time comes. - - JOCK - - Mary, lassie, will A huv tae wait till - the nicht fur ma answer? - - MARY - - Play fair noo, Jock. Ye gien me a day - frae last nicht tae think aboot it. - - JOCK - - A ken A did. That’s richt anough. Only - it’s no’ sae easy tae wait as A thocht - it wis when it comes tae daein’t. - - MARY - - Mebbe no’. But ye’ll jist huv tae pit up - wi’t. It wis you that said wait. A never - mentioned it. - - JOCK - - Ye shouldnae be sae hard on a chap, - Mary. A’m wantin’ ye that bad. A’m on - needles and peens till A ken whit road - the cat’ll jump. Ye never ken, Mary, - what’ll happen doon a pit. Jist think. A - micht never come up again and ye’d be - sick and sorry if A wis blown tae - kingdom come an’ no’ huv the consolation - o’ kennin’ that ye meant tae huv me. - - MARY - - It’s nae use, ma boy. Ye’ll no’ frichten - me that wey. A’m no’ pit born like you, - but A’ve stayed aside pits a bit ower - lang fur that. An’ ye ken weel anough - it’s no’ richt tae talk aboot they - things. A tell’t ye A’d gie ye yer - answer the nicht an’ ye’ll huv tae wait - till the nicht fur it. A’m no’ gaun back - on ma word. - - JOCK - - Bit if ye ken whit ye’re gaun tae say - whit wey wull ye no’ say it noo and pit - me oot o’ misery? - - MARY - - Aye, an’ huv ye gaun aboot tellin’ - everybody that aw ye hud tae dae wis - whistle an’ A rushed intae yer airms. - Naw, ma boy, A’m a single wumman yit and - A’m no promised tae nae man. A’ll tak’ - ma ain time tae tell ye whether A’m gaun - tae chinge ma name or no’. (Breaking off - and looking at the clock.) It’s time ye - were flittin’. Ye’ll be late if ye don’t - hurry up. - - JOCK - - A don’t care if A am. - - MARY - - Aw, but ye dae. Don’t be a silly. Ye ken - ye’ve never missed bein’ in the first - cage doon since ye startet workin’ an’ A - ‘ll no’ hae folk saying ye startet - missin’ it ower me. Hae ye finished yer - cocoa? - - JOCK - - Aye. Ye’re terrible hard on a chap, - Mary. - - MARY - - Awa’ wi ye. If ye hud a’ been as keen on - mairryin’ me as ye think ye are, ye wud - mebbe huv plucked up courage tae ask me - shuner. - - JOCK - - A only waitet till ma mind wis med up - fur sure. A wisnae long o’ askin’ ye - whin it wis. - - MARY - - Then ye’ll jist hae tae wait till mine - is med up. Whit’s sauce fur the goose is - sauce fur the gander, ye ken. - - JOCK - - Ye couldnae gie me sae much’s a hint? - Only a lick an’ a promise like? - - MARY - - Naw, A’m no’ makin’ no promises till A’m - ready. Ye’re only wastin’ yer time, man, - an riskin’ bein’ late tae. - - JOCK - - Aw, weel, if A huv tae wait, A’ll jist - huv tae. MARY - - It’ll be stoppin’ time afore ye know it. - - JOCK - - (he goes towards the door, lifting his - cap from a peg on the way) - - Oh aye. It’s easy talkin’. Ye’re only - keepin’ me in suspense, ye teasin’ - buddy. Its mebbe fun to you, but there’s - no’ much fun tae me wi’ you cairryin’ on - like that. - - MARY - - Ye’ll be late for yer work. That’ll be - the end o’t. - - JOCK - - Aw richt. (He puts his cap on.) A’m - gaun. Whaur’s ma piece? - - MARY - - Here ye are. - - [She hands him the handkerchief of food - and the can, which he slings over his - shoulder by a short strap. - - JOCK - - Huv ye tied it up weel? - - MARY - - Aye. Why? - - JOCK - - Rats wur busy at it yesterday whin A - cam’ to pit my pick doon an look fur ma - dinner. Bit ye cannae help rats in a pit - an mebbe they’re as hungry as A am. - - MARY - - Weel, its tied as ticht as A can mak’ - it. Noo look sherp or ye’ll be late. - Ye’re forgettin’ yer lamp. Dear kens - whit a fix ye’d be in if A wisnae up tae - look efter ye. - - JOCK - - It’s wi’ thinkin’ o’ you, lass. - - [He takes up his lamp. - - MARY - - Time anough fur that when yer work’s - dune. - - JOCK - - (as he opens the door slowly, morn has - broken fully, and a hard grey light - enters the room) - - A’ll be hame pretty quick so ye’ll - better be ready. - - MARY - - A’ll be ready richt anough. - - JOCK - - A’ richt. Then we’ll leave it at that. - - MARY - - Aye. - - [Jock goes out, closing the door quietly - after him. Mary, left alone, begins to - tidy up and prepare the house for the - use of the day. Soon the door at the - right opens, and Ellen Brown, Jock’s - mother, enters. She is an old woman, but - not so old as she looks; her spare - figure bears all the marks of a life - that is one continuous struggle against - a hard fate. She is dressed plainly in - black, with an apron; her head is - covered with a shawl. Mary, who is at - the window rolling up the broken blind, - starts and turns to her in surprise. - - MARY - - Why, auntie, ye’re up airly. - - ELLEN - - Aye. Is the lad awa’ yit? - - MARY - - He’s jist awa’. Is onythin’ wrang? - - ELLEN - - Naw, lass, naw. A wid a’ liket to a’ - seen him afore he went. - - MARY - - Will A rin efter im? He’s jist this - meenit awa’. ELLEN - - An’ mak’ ‘im late? Naw, we musnae dae - that. It wis only a fancy. A thocht A - micht catch ‘im, but A widnae chance - makin’ ‘im late. He tak’s a pride in - bein’ at the pithead regular for the - first cage gaun doon; he’d be rare an’ - mad wi’ me if A brung him back fur - naethin’. - - MARY - - Why did ye no’ shout on us frae yer - room? - - ELLEN - - A didnae think o’ that. - - MARY - - (puzzled by her appearance, decides to - be consoling) Weel, A’m sorry ye left - yer bed fur naethin’, before the room’s - aired tae. - - ELLEN - - Ach, that’s naethin’, lass. - - MARY - - Weel, sit doon while A mak’ a fire an - get the breakfast ready. Room’ll soon be - warm. - - ELLEN - - Aye, lass. - - [She moves listlessly to the rocking- - chair, in which she sits passively, - while Mary takes some sticks and paper - from the oven and kneels, making a fire. - - MARY - - It’s a wee sherp this mornin’ too. (She - looks up to see Ellen furtively dabbing - her eyes with a clean handkerchief .) - Auntie, whit’s up wi’ ye? Wull ye no - tell me whit’s the maitter? - - ELLEN - - Naethin’, lass, naethin’. - - MARY - - (as she rises and stands by the chair) - - Bit there must be somethin’. Whit wey - did ye get up sae airly? Ye were soon’ - anough asleep when A left ye. - - ELLEN - - Sleepin’? Aye, A wis sleepin’ richt - anough, an’ would to God A hidnae been. - - MARY - - Whit dae ye mean? - - ELLEN - - Only an auld wife’s fancy, lass. - - MARY - - Naw, ye must tell me whit it is. - - ELLEN - - It wis a dream that made me rise, lass. - - MARY - - A dream? - - ELLEN - - Aye. A dream’t A wis gaun in a field an’ - the grass wis green, greener than life, - an’ there wis coos in it and sheep-no’ - dirty, blackened beasts like whit’s - here, bit whit ye wid fancy they wid be - some place whaur there isnae always - smoke. An’ A walked in the field an’ the - sun wis shinin’ an’ it cam’ dark suddent - an’ A couldnae see the coos nae mair. - There wis thunder an’ it frichtened me - an’ whin A cam’ tae look up again, it - wis rainin’ bluid on ma heid, naethin’ - bit bluid, an’ the field ran rid wi’ it. - Bluid everywhaur, naethin’ bit bluid. - - MARY - - An’ it frichtened ye? Aye, the - nichtmare’s no pleasant fur ony yin. Ye - ett pretty hearty last nicht. Weel, - never mind. It’s a’ past noo. Ye’ll feel - better efter a cup o’ tea. A’ll shune - huv breakfast on the table noo. - - ELLEN - - A’ve dream’t yon dream afore, an’ the - last time A dream’t it wis the nicht - afore the big fire in the pit whin - Jock’s faither got ‘imself kill’t. A’ve - niver dream’t it since that nicht an’ - noo it’s come again an’ ma boy’s gaun - oot tae his work an’ me too late to stop - ‘im. - - MARY - - (moves towards the door) - - Mebbe it’s no’ too late. - - ELLEN - - Come back, lass. Look at the clock. The - first cage ‘ull be gaun doon lang afore - ye could get there and oor Jock’ll be - in’t. He’s aye in the first cage, is oor - Jock. Best timekeeper on the pit. - - MARY - - Oh, why did ye no’ tell me at first? - He’ll be kill’t; he’ll be kill’t. - - ELLEN - - It’s nae use worryin’ like that. Jock’s - in God’s hand, lass, same as he is every - day whether A dream or no’. An’ mebbe - there’s naethin’ to worry ower. They do - say that there’s naethin’ in dreams. A - doot it’s gaun against the Almighty tae - tak’ notice o’ a dream. If He hud meaned - it fur a warnin’ He’d likely have sent - it shuner so as A could a’ kept Jock - frae gaun oot. Aye, he’s in God’s - keepin’. We can dae naethin’. Get the - kettle filled. - - MARY - - Yes, Auntie. - - ELLEN - - A’ll see tae the table. - - MARY - - Aw richt. - - ELLEN - - (as she takes a coarse white cloth from - a drawer, spreads it and proceeds to lay - breakfast.) - - Ye’ll hardly mind an accident here will - ye, Mary? - - MARY - - Naw. - - ELLEN - - Naw, A thocht no’. (She has now come to - the fireplace, where she sits in an arm- - chair.) It’s mony a year sin’ we hud yin - tae speak o’. A don’t mind o’ hearin’ - the alarm bell ringin’ mair than yince, - or mebbe twict since yer uncle wis - kill’t. That wis somethin’ like a do. - There wis mair than twinty kill’t that - time an’ mebbe forty or mair that wis - hurt. A’ve heard folks say there his - been bigger accidents in America, but A - don’t tak’ ower much notice o’ they - newspaper tales masel’. Eh, it micht a’ - been yesterday. - - MARY - - Tell me aboot it, Auntie. Ye’ve never - tell’t me hoo it happen’t. - - ELLEN - - Eh? Bless the lass, whit’s the use o’ - that! Seems to me we’re baith o’ us a - bit cracket the day. We’ve got accident - on the brain. - - MARY - - They ay ring the bell don’t they, - Auntie, when onythin’ gaes wrang? - - ELLEN - - No! fur an odd man an’ ‘is laddie nipped - in a roof fall, jist if it’s a big - thing. Look here, lass, if ye cannae - talk o’ naethin’ bit accidents, ye’d - better shut up. (She rises from her - chair.) Whit wi’ ma dream an’ your - worryin’ A don’t know where A am. - - MARY - - A wis jist askin’. Ye never can ken wi’ - a coal-pit whin its gaun tae git nesty - an’ a man cannae ay mind whaur he is - whin he’s doon. - - ELLEN - - They’re watched shairper gaun doon - nooadays an the men ken better nor tae - take risks theirsel’s, the way they - use’t tae in the auld days. - - MARY - - Aye, but a man that forgets yinst ‘ll - forget yinst too often. - - ELLEN - - A’ve tell’t ye tae quit bletherin’. - Folks ‘ud think ye hudnae lived aside - pits mair nor a week tae hear ye talk - daft like that. There’s ay danger and - naebody but a born fool wid say there - wis’nt, but it’ll no’ mend it tae go - thinkin’ aboot it. There’s coal there - an’ it’s got tae be got and that’s the - first an’ last o’t. Hae ye pit tea in - the pot? - - MARY - - Naw. - - ELLEN - - Ye’d better dae it then. - - [Mary puts tea in the tea-pot from a - canister on the mantelshelf As she does - so, a heavy bell rings clangorously. - - MARY - - Whit’s that? - - ELLEN - - (quietly and slowly bending her head as - if to a physical blow) - - God’s wull be dune. - - MARY - - Is it——? - - ELLEN - - Aye. (Then, as Mary makes for the door.) - Whaur are ye gaun, lass? - - MARY - - A’m gaun tae the pit tae see whit’s up. - - ELLEN - - Naw. Ye’re no’. A’ll want ye here. - - MARY - - Why no’? - - ELLEN - - There’ll be plenty fills o’ wimmen there - seein’ whit’s up and keepin’ the men - frae their wark, withoot you gaun an’ - helpin’ them tae dae it. - - MARY - - But we—— - - ELLEN - - Look here ma lass, if oor Jock’s hurt, - oor job’s tae get ‘im weel again. - Rushin’ oot tae the pit-heid ‘ll dae ‘im - nae guid. It’s only wimmen that huvnae - got husbands and sons doon in the pit - that gaes staunin’ roon faintin’ and - whit nut an’ makin’ a nuisance o’ - theirsel’s. The ithers stays at hame an’ - gets things ready. - - MARY - - We dinnae ken whit tae get ready fur. - - ELLEN - - We ken anough. - - MARY - - Jock ‘ll mebbe no’ be hurt. - - ELLEN - - Then we’ll hae wastet oor wark. - - MARY - - Whit’ll A dae i - - ELLEN - - A donno that there’s sae much when aw’s - dune. We’ll mebbe need hot watter. - - MARY - - Fur—— - - ELLEN - - Hoo dae A ken whit fur? Yon kettleful - ‘ll dae an’ oor tea will huv tae wait. - - MARY - - Bit whit can we dae? Gie me somethin’ - tae dae fur mercy’s sake. A’ll go mad if - A don’t dae somethin’. A cannae sit - still and wait, and wait, and wait. - - ELLEN - - Ye’d best be makin’ his bed. - - MARY - - Yes, auntie. - - ELLEN - - Whit are ye greetin’ fur, lass? We ken - naethin’ yit, an’ if we did, greetin’ - ‘ll no’ mend it. It’ll dae Jock nae - guid, nae maitter hoo he is, to see ye - slobberin’ whin he comes in. (Mary dries - her eyes and begins to clear the table.) - Whit are ye daein’ that fur? - - MARY - - A don’t know. A thocht—— - - ELLEN - - A body mun eat. Let things be. A tell’t - ye tae gang tae the room and mak’ his - bed. - - MARY - - Aw richt, auntie. - - [Mary goes to the bedroom, closing the - door behind her. Ellen looks to see it - is shut, and moves rapidly and - purposefully to the door to the street. - It is now daylight. The confused murmur - of a distant crowd is heard. She stands - on the threshold and looks out. - Presently she speaks to some one - approaching but not yet visible. - - ELLEN - - Whit is’t, Polly? - - A middle-aged woman in a drab skirt and - blouse with a shawl thrown over her head - appears breathless at the door; it is a - neighbour, Polly Walker. - - POLLY - - Ropes slipped and the cage fell doon the - shaft. - - Is your’s oot at his wark. - - ELLEN - - First cage doon? - - POLLY - - Aye. - - ELLEN - - Mine’s is in’t. - - POLLY - - We’ll shune ken the warst. They wis - riggin’ tackle whin A come away. They’ll - huv them up in nae time. - - ELLEN - - A’ll be ready. Whaur’s yours? - - POLLY (who has come into the room) - - Mine’s aw richt-safe in their beds- - sleepin’ aff last nicht’s drink, thank - the Lord. - - ELLEN - - They must bring him here, Polly, nae - maitter whit he’s like. - - POLLY - - Aye. A body likes tae dae fur her ain. - Whaur’s the lass? Awa’ tae the piti. - - ELLEN - - Makin’ his bed in case its needet. - - POLLY - - That’s richt. Don’t let her oot. - - ELLEN - - No’ if A can help it. She wantet tae go, - but A widnae huv it. Ye’ll see things at - a pit-heid efter an accident that’s no - fit fur a young yin. Waste her life fur - her to be there whin they’re brung up. - - POLLY - - Aye. A’m no’ gaun back. A’ve seen - anough, never nae mair if A can help it. - - ELLEN - - Come in, wull ye? - - POLLY - - Aye. A’d best shut the door, tac, an’ - keep oot the row or she’ll be wantin’ - tae go. - - [She closes the door and takes a chair - at the table. - - ELLEN - - Aye. They cannae sit quiet when they’re - young. - - POLLY - - That’s a fact. A mind the day when the - pit wis on fire. A wis only a wee lassie - then, bit ma mither had nae mair sense - nor tae let me oot tae the pit—heid tae - see the bodies brung up. A’ll never - forget that sicht. A dream aboot it tae - this day. - - ELLEN - - Sit doon, Polly. A bit o’ comp’ny comes - handy at a time like this. - - POLLY (sitting) - - Thenk ye. - - ELLEN - - Aye. It’s a thing ye cannae forget. - Seems as if it wis only the ither day A - heard the bell ringin’ an’ saw ma man - brung up. He wis that charred A only - kent him by the earrin’s he wore because - his eyes wis weak. They tell’t me efter - that a rabbit had crossed his road on - the wey tae the pit, but he always wis - obstinate, wis ma Joe an’ he widnae tak’ - warnin’ and noo the cage has slipped wi’ - ma son in her and A’ll hae nae menfolk - noo. - - [The door from the bedroom has been - opening slowly, and Mary listens. The - others do not see her. - - POLLY - - Ye never ken. Mebbe he’ll no’ be kill’t. - - ELLEN - - A dream’t the same dream last nicht as - when his faither went. - - POLLY - - In the midst o’ life we are in death. - There’s no’ a truer word nor that. - - ELLEN - - No’ when ye live aff coal. There’s - wimmen keepin’ hoose in the places the - coal goes that pay fur their coal wi’ - brass. We pay a sicht heavier fur it - here. We pay wi’ the lives o’ men. - - POLLY - - But it’s a comfort tae think he’ll no’ - be burnt. A cannae staun’ a corp that’s - burnt. - - ELLEN - - Aye, better broken than burnt. - - POLLY - - An’ ye’ll huv money in the funeral - Society. - - ELLEN - - Oh, aye. A can gie him a decent burial. - - POLLY - - That’s ay a comfort. Ye don’t seem tae - care sae much some wey, when ye ken he’s - hud a decent burial. He’s bin a guid son - tae ye, tae. - - ELLEN - - Oh aye, he’s a good lad. He’s mebbe had - his shillin’ on a horse noo and then an’ - whiles gone rattin’ on a Sunday mornin’, - but that’s only tae say he’s a man an’ - no’ an angel in breeks. - - POLLY - - It’s mair than A can say about ma lot. - Lazy, drunken, good-for-nothings they - are, faither an’ sons tae. Come tae - mention’t, it’s a funny thing. - Providence works in its ain way. If mine - hadnae been on the spree last nicht, - they’d as like as no huv been in the - cage alang wi your boy. - - MARY (comes forward into the room) - - A’ll awa’ tae the pit noo, auntie. - - ELLEN - - Tak’ yer hurry, lass. - - MARY - - A cannae wait, A must ken. - - ELLEN - - Sit doon. - - MARY - - A cannae sit doon an’ listen tae you twa - talkin’ that way. First ye’ve got ‘im - kill’t an’ then ye bury ‘im, an’ next - ye’ll be argying whit’s tae go on his - grave-stane an’ aw the time ye don’t sae - much as ken if he’s hurt. - - POLLY - - Sit still, lassie. Ye’d better wait. - - MARY. - - Oh, A don’t know whit ye’re made o’-you - twa. Ye sit there quiet an’ calm as if - there wis naethin’ the maitter. - - ELLEN - - We’re auld enough tae ken we cannae dae - nae guid. Hae ye made the bed? - - Aye, - - ELLEN - - Weel, there’s a bottle o’ brandy in the - room-press. We micht need it. - - Aye. It’s harder when ye’re young tae - haud yersel’ in. It disnae come natural - tae her, no’ bein’ born tae pits like - us. Her mither mairret a weaver chap in - Dundee an’ brought her up tae mills. It - tak’s mair than a year or twa tae git - intae the wey o’ pits when ye’re born - strange tae them. - - POLLY - - Aye. We’re used tae the thocht o’ losin’ - oor men suddent. - - ELLEN - - But she’ll no gae tae the pit-heid if A - can stop her. We’ll hae tae keep her - mind aff it. Can ye mind o’ onything - else we micht want? - - POLLY - - Naw naethin’. - - ELLEN - - We micht need linen fur tyin’ up - - MARY - - A’ll get it. - - [Mary goes to the bedroom again. - - POLLY - - She’s gettin’ restless. - - ELLEN - - Aye. - - POLLY - - Naw, ye’ll no’. The doctors were there - afore A come away, and ambulance men tae - wi’ aw they’ll need. But we’ll huv tae - keep her here whether she likes it or - no’. - - ELLEN - - Aye. (She looks towards the street-door. - Polly catches her meaning.) Wull ye? A - don’t move sae easy as A used. - - POLLY - - The door? - - ELLEN - - Aye. - - POLLY - - Aye. That’s richt. (She goes to the - street-door.) Better let her think we’re - ill usin’ her than let her oot tae see - them sichts. - - [She turns the key and gives it to Ellen - as she resumes her seat. - - ELLEN - - Thenk ye, Polly. (She pockets the key) - Help me tae mak’ talk noo and keep her - mind aff it. - - MARY (enters with a bottle) - - There’s the brandy. - - ELLEN - - That’s richt. (A slight pause; the older - women try to make conversation. First - Polly bobs forward as if about to speak, - but leans back without saying anything; - Ellen does the same. Mary moves to the - door as Ellen, glancing round for a - subject, lets her eye fall on the brandy - bottle and fires off her remark in time - to arrest Mary’s progress towards the - door.) A thocht there wis mair nor that - in the bottle, aw the same. - - POLLY - - It’s a handy thing tae huv aboot the - hoose. - - ELLEN - - Aye. Rare stuff fur the jaw-ache. - - POLLY - - It is that. Goes weel wi’ a cup o’ tea, - tae, on a cauld mornin’. - - MARY - - Is there onything else? - - ELLEN - - Eh? Naw, A don’t think there is, Mary. - Let me think. Naw. That’s aw A can mind. - - MARY - - A’ll awa’, thin. - - ELLEN - - Naw, ye’ll no’. - - MARY - - Why no’? - - ELLEN - - Because ye’ll no’. Ye’ll stay whaur ye - are. - - MARY - - Let me go. A must go. A cannae stay - here. - - POLLY - - Dae whit yer auntie tells ye, lassie. - Young folks is that smert nooadays, - there’s nae use tellin’ them onythin’. - - MARY - - Oh, ye don’t understand. A must go. A - must. (She goes to the door; tries to - open it.) Door’s locked. This door’s - locked. Whaur’s the key? Whit huv ye - dune wi’ the key? - - ELLEN - - Look here, lass, A tell’t ye ye widnae - go, an’ A’ve made sure o’t. Come noo. - Come an’ sit quiet, ravin’ aboot as if - ye were mad. Ye’ll huv the haunel aff - the door. - - MARY - - Let me go tae him. - - ELLEN - - No. - - MARY - - A must go. A must. A love him. A love - him. - - ELLEN - - D’ye think A don’t love him, lassie? Aye - and a sicht better than a bit wean like - you could love him. A’m his mither. - - MARY - - Oh, huv mercy. Ye don’t know. A sent ‘im - oot. He wisnae for gaun till A’d said - the word. A widnae tell ‘im. A made him - wait till the nicht. A sent him tae his - death. - - ELLEN - - The lassie’s ravin’. - - MARY - - Let me go. - - ELLEN - - No. - - MARY - - Ye won’t? - - POLLY - - Haud yer wheish, lass. It’s fur yer ain - guid. - - MARY - - Why huv ye locked thon door? Ye’re - cheatin’ me. Ye’re cruel. A can dae nae - guid here. Let me go tae ‘im. A must go. - A wull. [The two women have now faced - each other; there is a violent knocking - at the door. - - MARY - - Whit’s that? Oh, ma God, whit’s that? - - [Ellen takes the key from her pocket - moves slowly to the door, unlocks it, - and throws it open. Jock stands on the - threshold, very pale, with his coat - buttoned at the bottom, and only his - right arm thrust into the sleeve. - - ELLEN - - Ma boy! - - [She tries to embrace him. - - JOCK - - Steady, mither. Watch ma airm. - - ELLEN - - Is it broken? - - JOCK - - Aye, the doctor’ll be roon’ tae set it - shune. They’ve anough tae dae first, - though. There’s plenty worse nor me. - - ELLEN - - Thank God! - - JOCK - - Naw, mither. It’s aw by. There’s - naethin’ tae greet fur, and no’ sae much - in a broken airm tae thank God fur, - neither. - - MARY - - Oh, Jock! - - JOCK - - Is that aw ye’ve got tae say tae me? The - shift’s ower, ma lass. Mebbe it’s ower - afore it startet, but that disnae - maitter. A’ve come fur ma answer, Mary. - - MARY - - Ye’re an old fraud. Ye kent aw the time. - Oh, Jock, Jock, A thocht ye wis kill’t. - - JOCK - - Ye thocht wrang. A’m no the deein’ kin’. - So ye’ll huv me? - - MARY - - Aye. - - JOCK - - A’ll awa roon’ an’ see the meenister - aboot pittin’ up the banns when ma - airm’s set. A’ll be huvin’ some time on - ma hauns. A think gettin’ mairrit ‘ll - fill in the time beautiful. - - - CURTAIN - - - - Glasgow: Printed at the University Press - by Robert MacLehose and Co. Ltd. The - Repertory Theatre was founded between - January and April, 1909, as a direct - effort of Scotsmen in general, and - Glasgow men in particular, to throw off - London’s despotic rule in things - dramatic. - - In its first season it produced nine - plays (three altogether new), including - John Galsworthy’s play, “Strife,” which - had just been produced in London. - - The second season commenced on September - 5th. In it thirteen plays were produced, - including the first production in - English of a play by the Russian - dramatist, Anton Tchekhov, “The - Seagull,” and six entirely new plays. - - In the Spring season, 1910, “Justice,” - produced simultaneously in London, - created an unique record in the history - of the British stage, while astonishing - success attended the production of John - Masefield’s masterpiece, “The Tragedy of - Nan.” In all, seven entirely new plays - were produced. - - The Summer season of lighter fare added - six more plays to the record, including - two new ones. In the fifth season ten - plays were produced, four entirely new. - - In the sixth season, Spring, 1911, - fifteen plays were produced, seven - entirely new. In all seventy-three plays - have been produced, of which about - fifty-five would never have been seen - but for the energies of this Theatre. - - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Price of Coal, by Harold Brighouse - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRICE OF COAL *** - -***** This file should be named 55287-0.txt or 55287-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/2/8/55287/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Price of Coal - A Play - -Author: Harold Brighouse - -Release Date: August 7, 2017 [EBook #55287] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRICE OF COAL *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - -</pre> - - <div style="height: 8em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - THE PRICE OF COAL - </h1> - <h2> - By Harold Brighouse - </h2> - <h4> - Gowans & Gray, Ltd., London - </h4> - <h3> - 1911 - </h3> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="linklinkimage-0001" id="linklinkimage-0001"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0005.jpg" alt="0005 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0005.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="linklinkimage-0002" id="linklinkimage-0002"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0009.jpg" alt="0009 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0009.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="linklink2H_FORE" id="linklink2H_FORE"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - FOREWORD: BY THE DIRECTOR OF THE SCOTTISH REPERTORY THEATRE - </h2> - <p> - “<i>The Price of Coal</i>” came from a Manchester author; it was in - Lancashire dialect, but was freely translated into that of Lanarkshire, - before its first production on Monday, November 15th, 1909. The whole week - was foggy, dense, yellow and stinking, but the audience (whose scantiness, - thanks to the fog, was unregarded by the players), enthusiastic outside - the Theatre, as they were within, bruited its excellence, and the many and - urgent requests for its speedy revival were complied with. - </p> - <p> - It has been performed by the Repertory Company at Carlisle, Edinburgh and - Perth, while a number of performances have been successfully given by - amateurs. - </p> - <h3> - A. W. - </h3> - <p> - Glasgow, March, 1911. - </p> - <p> - [EXTRACT FROM THE REPERTORY THEATRE PROGRAMME November 1909] - </p> - <h3> - THE PRICE OF COAL - </h3> - <p> - A play in one act By Harold Brighouse - </p> - <p> - Mary Brown, Jack Brown, Ellen Brown, Polly Walker, - </p> - <p> - Miss Agnes Bartholomew. Mr. R. B. Drysdale. - </p> - <p> - Miss Elspeth Dudgeon. Miss Lola Duncan. - </p> - <p> - The Scene is laid in a Lanarkshire Colliery Village. - </p> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>odern - industrialism has evolved its special types, and the Lanarkshire collier - is small and wiry. He swings a pickaxe for hours on end crouched in an - impossibly small space in heated atmosphere, and physique on the grand - scale is unsuited to such conditions. He takes tremendous risks as part of - his daily routine. His recreations are, to a fastidious taste, coarse. He - works hard under ground and plays hard above ground. Constrained attitude - is so much his second nature that he sits in perfect comfort on his - haunches, in the pictured pose of the mild Hindoo, his back to a wall, - discussing, amongst expectoration—a long row of him—, - football, dogs, his last spree and his next, the police reports, women. - </p> - <p> - Altogether a most unpleasant person, this undersized, foul-mouthed, - sporting hewer of coal-until you come to know him better, to discover his - simplicity of soul, his directness, his matter-of-fact self-sacrifice, the - unconscious heroism of his life: and to lose sight of his superficial - frailties in your admiration for his finer qualities. - </p> - <p> - The womenkind of the colliers are marked by the life of the pits no less - than the men. They are rough, capable housewives, dressing with more care - for durability than effect, tolerant of their menfolks’ weaknesses, and, - above all, stamped with the pit-side stoicism apt to be mistaken for - callousness. The sudden death of their breadwinner is an everyday hazard, - accepted without complaint and without concealment as part of their life. - Like their husbands, they exist from hand to mouth on the brink of - eternity. Thrift, when any day’s work may be your last, seems a misplaced - virtue. Lean fare approaches as pay day recedes, and illness, meagrely - provided for by membership of a “sick” society, is tided over in the main - by the unfailing generosity of neighbours whose own table suffers by the - charity. - </p> - <h3> - SCENE - </h3> - <p> - The scene represents the living room of a collier’s cottage in - Lanarkshire. The room has three doors, one to the right and one to the - left, which lead to the sleeping rooms, and one in the centre which opens - on to the village street. A fireplace with a cooking stove set in it is at - the right. A holland blind is drawn down at the window, but it does not - completely shut out the night, which is now dissolving into a grey, cold - dawn, for the cheap German alarm clock that ticks loudly on the - mantleshelf marks the hour five-thirty. When the curtain rises the room is - in darkness save for the glint of bluish-grey light that shows at the - window. Then Mary Brown enters from the door on the right, she strikes a - match and lights a lamp, when you see she is a girl of about twenty; she - does not look her best, her hair has been hurriedly screwed up, her print - blouse, murky with toil, has not yet been fastened, she wears a - draggle-tailed skirt of sombre colour and list slippers are on her feet. - </p> - <p> - A small spirit-lamp is on the hob and a little tin kettle near by; she - lights the lamp, puts the kettle on it, then crosses to the door on the - left and knocks. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Are ye up, Jock? - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - (within) - </p> - <p> - Aw richt, A’ll be there in a meenit. - </p> - <p> - Mary takes a plain and fairly clean apron from a hook by the dresser and - puts it on briskly; she then takes a cup and saucer from the rack, putting - them on the dresser, from the cupboard of which she takes a cocoa-tin and - puts a spoonful of cocoa in the cup. Then she takes bread and meat from - the cupboard and makes a couple of huge sandwiches. These she puts on a - tin plate, and covering them with another tin plate, she ties the whole in - a large red handkerchief with the ends looped for carrying. A tin can with - a screw top is placed near by. Then, from the door at the left, enters - Jock Brown, Mary’s cousin. - </p> - <p> - He is dressed in his working or “black” clothes, which may have been - coloured once but are now blackened with coal dust. He wears no collar, - but a muffler, which, because it is doffed in the pit, still preserves - something of its original hue, which was a bright red. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - A wis hardly expectin’ tae see you this mornin’, Mary. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - (<i>apparently unmoved, proceeds with her operations at the stove</i>) - </p> - <p> - An’ why no’, bless ye. Mebbe ye’d raither A dragged yer mither oot o’ her - bed an’ her bad wi’ her rheumatics, tae. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - A could a’ dune fur masel’ for wan mornin’. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Ye’d a’ made a bonnie mess o’ the job. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Aw, A’m no’ a wean. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - A can jist see ye daein’t, an’ gettin’ doon tae the pit ahint time, tae. - We huvnae quarrell’t, huv we? - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Naw: no’ that A ken. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Then whit wey should A no’ get up and dae fur ye jist the same as A’ve - dune near’s lang’s A can mind? - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - A donno. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Naw, nor naebody else either. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - (<i>disconcerted and apologetic</i>)Weel, ye see, A thocht mebbe that - efter whit we were sayin’ last nicht ye widnae want tae see me this - mornin’. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Naw, there wis naethin’ in that tae pit us aff the usual. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - (<i>with eagerness</i>)Then, wull ye tell me—— - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - (<i>cutting him short and putting the cocoa on the table</i>) There’s yer - cocoa. Ye’ll better drink it when it’s hot. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - (<i>tasting</i>)Aye. It’s hot anough onyway. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - It’s a cauld mornin’ tae be gaun oot. Ye’ll be nane the waur o’ somethin’ - hot this weather. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Aye. A dare say it’s cauld anough, bit the weather can wait. A’ve got - somethin’ else tae talk tae ye aboot besides the weather. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Mebbe ye huv, ma boy, but ye’ll huv tae wait till the richt time comes. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Mary, lassie, will A huv tae wait till the nicht fur ma answer? - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Play fair noo, Jock. Ye gien me a day frae last nicht tae think aboot it. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - A ken A did. That’s richt anough. Only it’s no’ sae easy tae wait as A - thocht it wis when it comes tae daein’t. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Mebbe no’. But ye’ll jist huv tae pit up wi’t. It wis you that said wait. - A never mentioned it. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Ye shouldnae be sae hard on a chap, Mary. A’m wantin’ ye that bad. A’m on - needles and peens till A ken whit road the cat’ll jump. Ye never ken, - Mary, what’ll happen doon a pit. Jist think. A micht never come up again - and ye’d be sick and sorry if A wis blown tae kingdom come an’ no’ huv the - consolation o’ kennin’ that ye meant tae huv me. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - It’s nae use, ma boy. Ye’ll no’ frichten me that wey. A’m no’ pit born - like you, but A’ve stayed aside pits a bit ower lang fur that. An’ ye ken - weel anough it’s no’ richt tae talk aboot they things. A tell’t ye A’d gie - ye yer answer the nicht an’ ye’ll huv tae wait till the nicht fur it. A’m - no’ gaun back on ma word. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Bit if ye ken whit ye’re gaun tae say whit wey wull ye no’ say it noo and - pit me oot o’ misery? - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Aye, an’ huv ye gaun aboot tellin’ everybody that aw ye hud tae dae wis - whistle an’ A rushed intae yer airms. Naw, ma boy, A’m a single wumman yit - and A’m no promised tae nae man. A’ll tak’ ma ain time tae tell ye whether - A’m gaun tae chinge ma name or no’. (<i>Breaking off and looking at the - clock.</i>) It’s time ye were flittin’. Ye’ll be late if ye don’t hurry - up. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - A don’t care if A am. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Aw, but ye dae. Don’t be a silly. Ye ken ye’ve never missed bein’ in the - first cage doon since ye startet workin’ an’ A ’ll no’ hae folk - saying ye startet missin’ it ower me. Hae ye finished yer cocoa? - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Aye. Ye’re terrible hard on a chap, Mary. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Awa’ wi ye. If ye hud a’ been as keen on mairryin’ me as ye think ye are, - ye wud mebbe huv plucked up courage tae ask me shuner. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - A only waitet till ma mind wis med up fur sure. A wisnae long o’ askin’ ye - whin it wis. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Then ye’ll jist hae tae wait till mine is med up. Whit’s sauce fur the - goose is sauce fur the gander, ye ken. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Ye couldnae gie me sae much’s a hint? Only a lick an’ a promise like? - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Naw, A’m no’ makin’ no promises till A’m ready. Ye’re only wastin’ yer - time, man, an riskin’ bein’ late tae. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Aw, weel, if A huv tae wait, A’ll jist huv tae. - </p> -<h3> - MARY -</h3> - <p> - It’ll be stoppin’ time afore ye know it. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - (<i>he goes towards the door, lifting his cap from a peg on the way</i>) - </p> - <p> - Oh aye. It’s easy talkin’. Ye’re only keepin’ me in suspense, ye teasin’ - buddy. Its mebbe fun to you, but there’s no’ much fun tae me wi’ you - cairryin’ on like that. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Ye’ll be late for yer work. That’ll be the end o’t. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Aw richt. (<i>He puts his cap on</i>.) A’m gaun. Whaur’s ma piece? - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Here ye are. - </p> - <p> - [<i>She hands him the handkerchief of food and the can, which he slings - over his shoulder by a short strap.</i> - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Huv ye tied it up weel? - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Aye. Why? - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Rats wur busy at it yesterday whin A cam’ to pit my pick doon an look fur - ma dinner. Bit ye cannae help rats in a pit an mebbe they’re as hungry as - A am. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Weel, its tied as ticht as A can mak’ it. Noo look sherp or ye’ll be late. - Ye’re forgettin’ yer lamp. Dear kens whit a fix ye’d be in if A wisnae up - tae look efter ye. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - It’s wi’ thinkin’ o’ you, lass. - </p> - <p> - [<i>He takes up his lamp.</i> - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Time anough fur that when yer work’s dune. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - (<i>as he opens the door slowly, morn has broken fully, and a hard grey - light enters the room</i>) - </p> - <p> - A’ll be hame pretty quick so ye’ll better be ready. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - A’ll be ready richt anough. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - A’ richt. Then we’ll leave it at that. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Aye. - </p> - <p> - [<i>Jock goes out, closing the door quietly after him. Mary, left alone, - begins to tidy up and prepare the house for the use of the day. Soon the - door at the right opens, and Ellen Brown, Jock’s mother, enters. She is an - old woman, but not so old as she looks; her spare figure bears all the - marks of a life that is one continuous struggle against a hard fate. She - is dressed plainly in black, with an apron; her head is covered with a - shawl. Mary, who is at the window rolling up the broken blind, starts and - turns to her in surprise</i>. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Why, auntie, ye’re up airly. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Aye. Is the lad awa’ yit? - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - He’s jist awa’. Is onythin’ wrang? - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Naw, lass, naw. A wid a’ liket to a’ seen him afore he went. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Will A rin efter im? He’s jist this meenit awa’. - </p> -<h3> -ELLEN -</h3> - <p> - An’ mak’ ‘im late? Naw, we musnae dae that. It wis only a fancy. A thocht - A micht catch ‘im, but A widnae chance makin’ ‘im late. He tak’s a pride - in bein’ at the pithead regular for the first cage gaun doon; he’d be rare - an’ mad wi’ me if A brung him back fur naethin’. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Why did ye no’ shout on us frae yer room? - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - A didnae think o’ that. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - (<i>puzzled by her appearance, decides to be consoling</i>) Weel, A’m - sorry ye left yer bed fur naethin’, before the room’s aired tae. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Ach, that’s naethin’, lass. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Weel, sit doon while A mak’ a fire an get the breakfast ready. Room’ll - soon be warm. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Aye, lass. - </p> - <p> - [<i>She moves listlessly to the rocking-chair, in which she sits - passively, while Mary takes some sticks and paper from the oven and - kneels, making a fire.</i> - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - It’s a wee sherp this mornin’ too. (<i>She looks up to see Ellen furtively - dabbing her eyes with a clean handkerchief </i>.) Auntie, whit’s up wi’ - ye? Wull ye no tell me whit’s the maitter? - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Naethin’, lass, naethin’. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - (<i>as she rises and stands by the chair</i>) - </p> - <p> - Bit there must be somethin’. Whit wey did ye get up sae airly? Ye were - soon’ anough asleep when A left ye. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Sleepin’? Aye, A wis sleepin’ richt anough, an’ would to God A hidnae - been. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Whit dae ye mean? - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Only an auld wife’s fancy, lass. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Naw, ye must tell me whit it is. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - It wis a dream that made me rise, lass. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - A dream? - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Aye. A dream’t A wis gaun in a field an’ the grass wis green, greener than - life, an’ there wis coos in it and sheep-no’ dirty, blackened beasts like - whit’s here, bit whit ye wid fancy they wid be some place whaur there - isnae always smoke. An’ A walked in the field an’ the sun wis shinin’ an’ - it cam’ dark suddent an’ A couldnae see the coos nae mair. There wis - thunder an’ it frichtened me an’ whin A cam’ tae look up again, it wis - rainin’ bluid on ma heid, naethin’ bit bluid, an’ the field ran rid wi’ - it. Bluid everywhaur, naethin’ bit bluid. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - An’ it frichtened ye? Aye, the nichtmare’s no pleasant fur ony yin. Ye ett - pretty hearty last nicht. Weel, never mind. It’s a’ past noo. Ye’ll feel - better efter a cup o’ tea. A’ll shune huv breakfast on the table noo. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - A’ve dream’t yon dream afore, an’ the last time A dream’t it wis the nicht - afore the big fire in the pit whin Jock’s faither got ‘imself kill’t. A’ve - niver dream’t it since that nicht an’ noo it’s come again an’ ma boy’s - gaun oot tae his work an’ me too late to stop ‘im. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - (<i>moves towards the door</i>) - </p> - <p> - Mebbe it’s no’ too late. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Come back, lass. Look at the clock. The first cage ‘ull be gaun doon lang - afore ye could get there and oor Jock’ll be in’t. He’s aye in the first - cage, is oor Jock. Best timekeeper on the pit. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Oh, why did ye no’ tell me at first? He’ll be kill’t; he’ll be kill’t. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - It’s nae use worryin’ like that. Jock’s in God’s hand, lass, same as he is - every day whether A dream or no’. An’ mebbe there’s naethin’ to worry - ower. They do say that there’s naethin’ in dreams. A doot it’s gaun - against the Almighty tae tak’ notice o’ a dream. If He hud meaned it fur a - warnin’ He’d likely have sent it shuner so as A could a’ kept Jock frae - gaun oot. Aye, he’s in God’s keepin’. We can dae naethin’. Get the kettle - filled. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Yes, Auntie. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - A’ll see tae the table. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Aw richt. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - (<i>as she takes a coarse white cloth from a drawer, spreads it and - proceeds to lay breakfast</i>.) - </p> - <p> - Ye’ll hardly mind an accident here will ye, Mary? - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Naw. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Naw, A thocht no’. (<i>She has now come to the fireplace, where she sits - in an arm-chair.) It’s mony a year sin’ we hud yin tae speak o’. A don’t - mind o’ hearin’ the alarm bell ringin’ mair than yince, or mebbe twict - since yer uncle wis kill’t. That wis somethin’ like a do. There wis mair - than twinty kill’t that time an’ mebbe forty or mair that wis hurt. A’ve - heard folks say there his been bigger accidents in America, but A don’t - tak’ ower much notice o’ they newspaper tales masel’. Eh, it micht a’ been - yesterday.</i> - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Tell me aboot it, Auntie. Ye’ve never tell’t me hoo it happen’t. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Eh? Bless the lass, whit’s the use o’ that! Seems to me we’re baith o’ us - a bit cracket the day. We’ve got accident on the brain. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - They ay ring the bell don’t they, Auntie, when onythin’ gaes wrang? - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - No! fur an odd man an’ <i>‘i</i>s laddie nipped in a roof fall, jist if - it’s a big thing. Look here, lass, if ye cannae talk o’ naethin’ bit - accidents, ye’d better shut up. (<i>She rises from her chair</i>.) Whit - wi’ ma dream an’ your worryin’ A don’t know where A am. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - A wis jist askin’. Ye never can ken wi’ a coal-pit whin its gaun tae git - nesty an’ a man cannae ay mind whaur he is whin he’s doon. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - They’re watched shairper gaun doon nooadays an the men ken better nor tae - take risks theirsel’s, the way they use’t tae in the auld days. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Aye, but a man that forgets yinst ’ll forget yinst too often. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - A’ve tell’t ye tae quit bletherin’. Folks ‘ud think ye hudnae lived aside - pits mair nor a week tae hear ye talk daft like that. There’s ay danger - and naebody but a born fool wid say there wis’nt, but it’ll no’ mend it - tae go thinkin’ aboot it. There’s coal there an’ it’s got tae be got and - that’s the first an’ last o’t. Hae ye pit tea in the pot? - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Naw. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Ye’d better dae it then. - </p> - <p> - [<i>Mary puts tea in the tea-pot from a canister on the mantelshelf As she - does so, a heavy bell rings clangorously</i>. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Whit’s that? - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - (<i>quietly and slowly bending her head as if to a physical blow</i>) - </p> - <p> - God’s wull be dune. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Is it——? - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Aye. (<i>Then, as Mary makes for the door.</i>) Whaur are ye gaun, lass? - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - A’m gaun tae the pit tae see whit’s up. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Naw. Ye’re no’. A’ll want ye here. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Why no’? - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - There’ll be plenty fills o’ wimmen there seein’ whit’s up and keepin’ the - men frae their wark, withoot you gaun an’ helpin’ them tae dae it. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - But we—— - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Look here ma lass, if oor Jock’s hurt, oor job’s tae get ‘im weel again. - Rushin’ oot tae the pit-heid ‘ll dae ’im nae guid. It’s only wimmen - that huvnae got husbands and sons doon in the pit that gaes staunin’ roon - faintin’ and whit nut an’ makin’ a nuisance o’ theirsel’s. The ithers - stays at hame an’ gets things ready. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - We dinnae ken whit tae get ready fur. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - We ken anough. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Jock ‘ll mebbe no’ be hurt. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Then we’ll hae wastet oor wark. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Whit’ll A dae i - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - A donno that there’s sae much when aw’s dune. We’ll mebbe need hot watter. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Fur—— - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Hoo dae A ken whit fur? Yon kettleful ‘ll dae an’ oor tea will huv tae - wait. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Bit whit can we dae? Gie me somethin’ tae dae fur mercy’s sake. A’ll go - mad if A don’t dae somethin’. A cannae sit still and wait, and wait, and - wait. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Ye’d best be makin’ his bed. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Yes, auntie. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Whit are ye greetin’ fur, lass? We ken naethin’ yit, an’ if we did, - greetin’ ‘ll no’ mend it. It’ll dae Jock nae guid, nae maitter hoo he is, - to see ye slobberin’ whin he comes in. (<i>Mary dries her eyes and begins - to clear the table.</i>) Whit are ye daein’ that fur? - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - A don’t know. A thocht—— - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - A body mun eat. Let things be. A tell’t ye tae gang tae the room and mak’ - his bed. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Aw richt, auntie. - </p> - <p> - [<i>Mary goes to the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Ellen looks to - see it is shut, and moves rapidly and purposefully to the door to the - street. It is now daylight. The confused murmur of a distant crowd is - heard. She stands on the threshold and looks out. Presently she speaks to - some one approaching but not yet visible</i>. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Whit is’t, Polly? - </p> - <p> - <i>A middle-aged woman in a drab skirt and blouse with a shawl thrown over - her head appears breathless at the door; it is a neighbour, Polly Walker</i>. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - Ropes slipped and the cage fell doon the shaft. - </p> - <p> - Is your’s oot at his wark. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - First cage doon? - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - Aye. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Mine’s is in’t. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - We’ll shune ken the warst. They wis riggin’ tackle whin A come away. - They’ll huv them up in nae time. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - A’ll be ready. Whaur’s yours? - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - (<i>who has come into the room</i>)Mine’s aw richt-safe in their beds-sleepin’ aff last nicht’s drink, thank - the Lord. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - They must bring him here, Polly, nae maitter whit he’s like. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - Aye. A body likes tae dae fur her ain. Whaur’s the lass? Awa’ tae the - piti. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Makin’ his bed in case its needet. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - That’s richt. Don’t let her oot. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - No’ if A can help it. She wantet tae go, but A widnae huv it. Ye’ll see - things at a pit-heid efter an accident that’s no fit fur a young yin. - Waste her life fur her to be there whin they’re brung up. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - Aye. A’m no’ gaun back. A’ve seen anough, never nae mair if A can help it. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Come in, wull ye? - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - Aye. A’d best shut the door, tac, an’ keep oot the row or she’ll be - wantin’ tae go. - </p> - <p> - [<i>She closes the door and takes a chair at the table.</i> - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Aye. They cannae sit quiet when they’re young. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - That’s a fact. A mind the day when the pit wis on fire. A wis only a wee - lassie then, bit ma mither had nae mair sense nor tae let me oot tae the - pit—heid tae see the bodies brung up. A’ll never forget that sicht. - A dream aboot it tae this day. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Sit doon, Polly. A bit o’ comp’ny comes handy at a time like this. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - (<i>sitting</i>) Thenk ye. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Aye. It’s a thing ye cannae forget. Seems as if it wis only the ither day - A heard the bell ringin’ an’ saw ma man brung up. He wis that charred A - only kent him by the earrin’s he wore because his eyes wis weak. They - tell’t me efter that a rabbit had crossed his road on the wey tae the pit, - but he always wis obstinate, wis ma Joe an’ he widnae tak’ warnin’ and noo - the cage has slipped wi’ ma son in her and A’ll hae nae menfolk noo. - </p> - <p> - [<i>The door from the bedroom has been opening slowly, and Mary listens. - The others do not see her</i>. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - Ye never ken. Mebbe he’ll no’ be kill’t. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - A dream’t the same dream last nicht as when his faither went. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - In the midst o’ life we are in death. There’s no’ a truer word nor that. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - No’ when ye live aff coal. There’s wimmen keepin’ hoose in the places the - coal goes that pay fur their coal wi’ brass. We pay a sicht heavier fur it - here. We pay wi’ the lives o’ men. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - But it’s a comfort tae think he’ll no’ be burnt. A cannae staun’ a corp - that’s burnt. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Aye, better broken than burnt. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - An’ ye’ll huv money in the funeral Society. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Oh, aye. A can gie him a decent burial. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - That’s ay a comfort. Ye don’t seem tae care sae much some wey, when ye ken - he’s hud a decent burial. He’s bin a guid son tae ye, tae. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Oh aye, he’s a good lad. He’s mebbe had his shillin’ on a horse noo and - then an’ whiles gone rattin’ on a Sunday mornin’, but that’s only tae say - he’s a man an’ no’ an angel in breeks. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - It’s mair than A can say about ma lot. Lazy, drunken, good-for-nothings - they are, faither an’ sons tae. Come tae mention’t, it’s a funny thing. - Providence works in its ain way. If mine hadnae been on the spree last - nicht, they’d as like as no huv been in the cage alang wi your boy. - </p> - <p> - MARY (<i>comes forward into the room</i>) - </p> - <p> - A’ll awa’ tae the pit noo, auntie. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Tak’ yer hurry, lass. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - A cannae wait, A must ken. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Sit doon. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - A cannae sit doon an’ listen tae you twa talkin’ that way. First ye’ve got - ‘im kill’t an’ then ye bury ‘im, an’ next ye’ll be argying whit’s tae go - on his grave-stane an’ aw the time ye don’t sae much as ken if he’s hurt. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - Sit still, lassie. Ye’d better wait. - </p> - <h3> - MARY. - </h3> - <p> - Oh, A don’t know whit ye’re made o’-you twa. Ye sit there quiet an’ calm - as if there wis naethin’ the maitter. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - We’re auld enough tae ken we cannae dae nae guid. Hae ye made the bed? - </p> - <p> - Aye, - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Weel, there’s a bottle o’ brandy in the room-press. We micht need it. - </p> - <p> - Aye. It’s harder when ye’re young tae haud yersel’ in. It disnae come - natural tae her, no’ bein’ born tae pits like us. Her mither mairret a - weaver chap in Dundee an’ brought her up tae mills. It tak’s mair than a - year or twa tae git intae the wey o’ pits when ye’re born strange tae - them. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - Aye. We’re used tae the thocht o’ losin’ oor men suddent. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - But she’ll no gae tae the pit-heid if A can stop her. We’ll hae tae keep - her mind aff it. Can ye mind o’ onything else we micht want? - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - Naw naethin’. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - We micht need linen fur tyin’ up - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - A’ll get it. - </p> - <p> - [<i>Mary goes to the bedroom again</i>. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - She’s gettin’ restless. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Aye. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - Naw, ye’ll no’. The doctors were there afore A come away, and ambulance - men tae wi’ aw they’ll need. But we’ll huv tae keep her here whether she - likes it or no’. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Aye. (<i>She looks towards the street-door. Polly catches her meaning.</i>) - Wull ye? A don’t move sae easy as A used. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - The door? - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Aye. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - Aye. That’s richt. (<i>She goes to the street-door</i>.) Better let her - think we’re ill usin’ her than let her oot tae see them sichts. - </p> - <p> - [<i>She turns the key and gives it to Ellen as she resumes her seat</i>. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Thenk ye, Polly. (<i>She pockets the key</i>) Help me tae mak’ talk noo - and keep her mind aff it. - </p> - <p> - MARY (<i>enters with a bottle</i>) - </p> - <p> - There’s the brandy. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - That’s richt. (<i>A slight pause; the older women try to make - conversation. First Polly bobs forward as if about to speak, but leans - back without saying anything; Ellen does the same. Mary moves to the door - as Ellen, glancing round for a subject, lets her eye fall on the brandy - bottle and fires off her remark in time to arrest Mary’s progress towards - the door.</i>) A thocht there wis mair nor that in the bottle, aw the - same. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - It’s a handy thing tae huv aboot the hoose. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Aye. Rare stuff fur the jaw-ache. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - It is that. Goes weel wi’ a cup o’ tea, tae, on a cauld mornin’. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Is there onything else? - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Eh? Naw, A don’t think there is, Mary. Let me think. Naw. That’s aw A can - mind. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - A’ll awa’, thin. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Naw, ye’ll no’. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Why no’? - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Because ye’ll no’. Ye’ll stay whaur ye are. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Let me go. A must go. A cannae stay here. - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - Dae whit yer auntie tells ye, lassie. Young folks is that smert nooadays, - there’s nae use tellin’ them onythin’. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Oh, ye don’t understand. A must go. A must. (<i>She goes to the door; - tries to open it.</i>) Door’s locked. This door’s locked. Whaur’s the key? - Whit huv ye dune wi’ the key? - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Look here, lass, A tell’t ye ye widnae go, an’ A’ve made sure o’t. Come - noo. Come an’ sit quiet, ravin’ aboot as if ye were mad. Ye’ll huv the - haunel aff the door. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Let me go tae him. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - No. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - A must go. A must. A love him. A love him. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - D’ye think A don’t love him, lassie? Aye and a sicht better than a bit - wean like you could love him. A’m his mither. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Oh, huv mercy. Ye don’t know. A sent ‘im oot. He wisnae for gaun till A’d - said the word. A widnae tell ‘im. A made him wait till the nicht. A sent - him tae his death. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - The lassie’s ravin’. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Let me go. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - No. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Ye won’t? - </p> - <h3> - POLLY - </h3> - <p> - Haud yer wheish, lass. It’s fur yer ain guid. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Why huv ye locked thon door? Ye’re cheatin’ me. Ye’re cruel. A can dae nae - guid here. Let me go tae ‘im. A must go. A wull. [<i>The two women have - now faced each other; there is a violent knocking at the door.</i> - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Whit’s that? Oh, ma God, whit’s that? - </p> - <p> - [<i>Ellen takes the key from her pocket moves slowly to the door, unlocks - it, and throws it open. Jock stands on the threshold, very pale, with his - coat buttoned at the bottom, and only his right arm thrust into the - sleeve.</i> - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Ma boy! - </p> - <p> - [<i>She tries to embrace him.</i> - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Steady, mither. Watch ma airm. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Is it broken? - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Aye, the doctor’ll be roon’ tae set it shune. They’ve anough tae dae - first, though. There’s plenty worse nor me. - </p> - <h3> - ELLEN - </h3> - <p> - Thank God! - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Naw, mither. It’s aw by. There’s naethin’ tae greet fur, and no’ sae much - in a broken airm tae thank God fur, neither. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Oh, Jock! - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Is that aw ye’ve got tae say tae me? The shift’s ower, ma lass. Mebbe it’s - ower afore it startet, but that disnae maitter. A’ve come fur ma answer, - Mary. - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Ye’re an old fraud. Ye kent aw the time. Oh, Jock, Jock, A thocht ye wis - kill’t. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - Ye thocht wrang. A’m no the deein’ kin’. So ye’ll huv me? - </p> - <h3> - MARY - </h3> - <p> - Aye. - </p> - <h3> - JOCK - </h3> - <p> - A’ll awa roon’ an’ see the meenister aboot pittin’ up the banns when ma - airm’s set. A’ll be huvin’ some time on ma hauns. A think gettin’ mairrit - ‘ll fill in the time beautiful. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <h3> - CURTAIN - </h3> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <p> - Glasgow: Printed at the University Press by Robert MacLehose and Co. Ltd. - The Repertory Theatre was founded between January and April, 1909, as a - direct effort of Scotsmen in general, and Glasgow men in particular, to - throw off London’s despotic rule in things dramatic. - </p> - <p> - In its first season it produced nine plays (three altogether new), - including John Galsworthy’s play, “Strife,” which had just been produced - in London. - </p> - <p> - The second season commenced on September 5th. In it thirteen plays were - produced, including the first production in English of a play by the - Russian dramatist, Anton Tchekhov, “The Seagull,” and six entirely new - plays. - </p> - <p> - In the Spring season, 1910, “Justice,” produced simultaneously in London, - created an unique record in the history of the British stage, while - astonishing success attended the production of John Masefield’s - masterpiece, “The Tragedy of Nan.” In all, seven entirely new plays were - produced. - </p> - <p> - The Summer season of lighter fare added six more plays to the record, - including two new ones. In the fifth season ten plays were produced, four - entirely new. - </p> - <p> - In the sixth season, Spring, 1911, fifteen plays were produced, seven - entirely new. In all seventy-three plays have been produced, of which - about fifty-five would never have been seen but for the energies of this - Theatre. - </p> - <div style="height: 6em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Price of Coal, by Harold Brighouse - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRICE OF COAL *** - -***** This file should be named 55287-h.htm or 55287-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/2/8/55287/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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