e same licensed premises, an' a
strong smell o' whiskey from ye?

HEAD
'Tis from yourself that, you smells the whiskey.

CONSTABLE (_takes an onion from his pocket, peels it, and
eats it slowly_)
I defy you or any one else to find the smell o' whiskey
from me.

HEAD (_to the Sergeant_)
Well, don't that beat Banagher?

SERGEANT
The Devil himself couldn't do better.

CONSTABLE
Well, gentlemen, I'm sorry for troublin' ye, but duty
is duty. I'll now place ye under arrest an' send for
the Inspector.

HEAD (_in a rage_)
No more o' this nonsense! You'll pay for this night's
work, believe me.

CONSTABLE (_smiling_)
I'll pay for a drink for both o' ye for the sake of old
times, an' the less said about this night's work the
better. (_All remain silent for a short time_) Well, are
ye goin' to have the drink?

SERGEANT (_to Head_)
We might as well take it, for 'tis the first time he
ever offered to stand, an' it may be the last.

HEAD (_after much consideration_)
Very well, then, I'll have a drop o' the best.

SERGEANT
An' I'll have the same.

CONSTABLE
Three glasses o' "Wise's," Mrs. Cotter.

MRS. COTTER _(from the bar)_
Certainly, Constable.

[_The Head and Sergeant remain silent, and the Constable
paces up and down with his hands in his pockets,
whistling some popular tune, until Mrs. Cotter brings
in the drinks_.

MRS. COTTER _(as she places the drinks on the table)_
I don't like to see ye in this cold kitchen, gentlemen.
Can't ye come up-stairs to the sitting-room?

CONSTABLE
'Tisn't worth our while, ma'am. We have our work
to do. (_Taking glass in hand_) Slainthe!

[_Drinks half the quantity of whiskey. The Head and
Sergeant do likewise. A noise like the falling of furniture
is heard from the room where Padna and Micus are._

HEAD _(startled)_
What's that?

_[There is silence for a while, then Micus is heard singing._

MICUS
"We are the boys of Wexford
Who fought with heart an' hand
To burst in twain the galling chain,
An' free our native land."

HEAD _(to Mrs. Cotter who has come from the bar)_
I'll have the kay of that door, ma'am.

MRS. COTTER
What kay, Head?

HEAD
The kay o' that door, ma'am.
[_Strikes door with his fist_.

MRS. COTTER
Erra, Head, what's the matter with ye? That door
is nailed up this seven years. That singin' comes from
the next house.

HEAD
Glory be to God! Do any one alive tell the truth?
_(Catches hold of chair by the back)_ If you don't give