The Field by John B. Keane Page B

man!
    Bird: [Who had been whistling sotto voce] The Bull McCabe won’t like this!
    Mick: You’re telling me!
    Maggie: Mr Flanagan, the highest bidder will get the field.
    Mick: Oh that you may be sure. But the Bull is sure to be the highest bidder. He needs that field. Well, Mrs Butler … Maggie … I’ll stick a notice in the paper this evening and I’ll have thirty-six bills printed and ready the day after tomorrow.
    Maggie: [Gathering herself together and rising] May God bless you, Mr Flanagan.
    Mick: It’s my job, ma’am, it’s my job. I suppose you’ll have a reserve?
    Maggie: You’ll put a reserve of £800 on it, Mr Flanagan.
    Mick: That’s more than £200 an acre!
    Maggie: It’s worth every penny of it. It’s good land and it’s well situated.
    Mick: True for you! True for you! You’ll get the last brown copper for it. I’ll make sure of that.
    Maggie: ’Tis all I have apart from my widow’s pension and I can’t live on that. God will reward you if you get a good price for me. [She rises] Is there money going to you?
    Mick: No! No! That will come from the purchaser. Let me see then, we’ll make it the fifth of April.
    Maggie: The fifth of April, please God. I’ll see you then.
    Mick: Please God is right and God is good, ma’am. God is good.
    [Mick sees her to the door]
    Maggie: My husband always said you were an honest man, that I was to come to you if I was ever forced to sell. The Lord have mercy on him, he was a good honest man.
    Mick: He was, to be sure. A good kindly innocent man.
    Maggie: Good-day to you now.
    Mick: Good-day to you, ma’am.
    [Exit Maggie Butler]
    Bird: You’ve a nice tricky job facing you now.
    Mick: Don’t I know it, but business is business, Bird, and business comes first with me.
    Bird: The Bull McCabe won’t like it.
    Mick: What the Bull likes and don’t like is nothing to me. I have my job to do.
    [Enter Maimie, Mick’s wife, who has come downstairs]
    Maimie: Bird.
    Bird: Maimie.
    Maimie: You’re dinner is ready.
    Mick: Good. I’ll go right up. Will you type out a couple of copies of this for me?
    [He hands her pages from jotter]
    Maimie: How many do you want?
    Mick: Make it three. Three should do. The Bird will carry one up to the printers when you’re done.
    Maimie: Don’t be too long … I’ll be going to the hairdressers when you come down.
    Mick: Oh! What’s on?
    [Mick stops]
    Maimie: [Goes for typewriter behind bar] Nothing’s on, only that it’s six weeks since I had my hair done.
    Mick: Why didn’t you go and get it done before this? I don’t like rushing my dinner. No one ever stopped you from getting your hair done.
    Maimie: No one … only nine kids. [Mick glowers] The baby’s asleep, so you needn’t turn on the wireless. If he wakes, that’s the end of my hair-do.
    Mick: Cripes Almighty, woman, I want to hear the news.
    Maimie: Well, you can miss the news for one day.
    Mick: [Turns again] What’s for dinner?
    Maimie: Corned beef and cabbage.
    Mick: Again?
    Maimie: What do you expect – turkey and ham?
    Mick: No, but God damn it, if I ate any more cabbage I’ll have to put up a second lavatory.
    [Exit Mick]
    Maimie: [Bringing typewriter to table and settling up to type – sitting] No matter what you do, they aren’t happy. What’s for dinner, he asks. Ask him in the morning what he’d like for dinner and he’ll tell you ’tis too soon after his breakfast.
    Bird: Put a half whiskey in that, will you?
    Maimie: Have you the price of it?
    Bird: No … but I’m selling two calves this evening.
    Maimie: Cash on the line only.
    [She inserts paper into typewriter]
    Bird: [Rises and crosses with glass, drink not finished] By God, you’re an amazin’ woman the way you keep up your appearance. I mean, after nine children, you’re still the best-lookin’ bird in