Act III - Page 2

rub me the wrong way all over.

BROADBENT. Oh, their faults are on the surface: at heart they are
one of the finest races on earth. [Hodson turns away, without
affecting to respond to his enthusiasm]. By the way, Hodson--

HODSON [turning]. Yes, sir.

BROADBENT. Did you notice anything about me last night when I
came in with that lady?

HODSON [surprised]. No, sir.

BROADBENT. Not any--er--? You may speak frankly.

HODSON. I didn't notice nothing, sir. What sort of thing ded you
mean, sir?

BROADBENT. Well--er--er--well, to put it plainly, was I drunk?

HODSON [amazed]. No, sir.

BROADBENT. Quite sure?

HODSON. Well, I should a said rather the opposite, sir. Usually
when you've been enjoying yourself, you're a bit hearty like.
Last night you seemed rather low, if anything.

BROADBENT. I certainly have no headache. Did you try the pottine,
Hodson?

HODSON. I just took a mouthful, sir. It tasted of peat: oh!
something horrid, sir. The people here call peat turf. Potcheen
and strong porter is what they like, sir. I'm sure I don't know
how they can stand it. Give me beer, I say.

BROADBENT. By the way, you told me I couldn't have porridge for
breakfast; but Mr Doyle had some.

HODSON. Yes, sir. Very sorry, sir. They call it stirabout, sir:
that's how it was. They know no better, sir.

BROADBENT. All right: I'll have some tomorrow.

Hodson goes to the house. When he opens the door he finds Nora
and Aunt Judy on the threshold. He stands aside to let them pass,
with the air of a well trained servant oppressed by heavy trials.
Then he goes in. Broadbent rises. Aunt Judy goes to the table and
collects the plates and cups on the tray. Nora goes to the back
of the rustic seat and looks out at the gate with the air of a
woman accustomed to have nothing to do. Larry returns from the
shrubbery.

BROADBENT. Good morning, Miss Doyle.

AUNT JUDY [thinking it absurdly late in the day for such a
salutation]. Oh, good morning. [Before moving his plate] Have you
done?

BROADBENT. Quite, thank you. You must excuse us for not waiting
for you. The country air tempted us to get up early.

AUNT JUDY. N d'ye call this airly, God help you?

LARRY. Aunt Judy probably breakfasted about half past six.

AUNT JUDY. Whisht, you!--draggin the parlor chairs out into the
gardn n givin Mr Broadbent his death over his meals out here in
the cold air. [To Broadbent] Why d'ye put up with his
foolishness, Mr Broadbent?

BROADBENT. I assure you I like the open air.

AUNT JUDY. Ah galong! How can you like what's not natural? I hope
you slept well.

NORA. Did anything wake yup with a thump