Act IV

The parlor in Cornelius Doyle's house. It communicates with the
garden by a half glazed door. The fireplace is at the other side
of the room, opposite the door and windows, the architect not
having been sensitive to draughts. The table, rescued from the
garden, is in the middle; and at it sits Keegan, the central
figure in a rather crowded apartment.

Nora, sitting with her back to the fire at the end of the table,
is playing backgammon across its corner with him, on his left
hand. Aunt Judy, a little further back, sits facing the fire
knitting, with her feet on the fender. A little to Keegan's
right, in front of the table, and almost sitting on it, is Barney
Doran. Half a dozen friends of his, all men, are between him and
the open door, supported by others outside. In the corner behind
them is the sofa, of mahogany and horsehair, made up as a bed for
Broadbent. Against the wall behind Keegan stands a mahogany
sideboard. A door leading to the interior of the house is near
the fireplace, behind Aunt Judy. There are chairs against the
wall, one at each end of the sideboard. Keegan's hat is on the
one nearest the inner door; and his stick is leaning against it.
A third chair, also against the wall, is near the garden door.

There is a strong contrast of emotional atmosphere between the
two sides of the room. Keegan is extraordinarily stern: no game
of backgammon could possibly make a man's face so grim. Aunt Judy
is quietly busy. Nora it trying to ignore Doran and attend to her
game.

On the other hand Doran is reeling in an ecstasy of mischievous
mirth which has infected all his friends. They are screaming with
laughter, doubled up, leaning on the furniture and against the
walls, shouting, screeching, crying.

AUNT JUDY [as the noise lulls for a moment]. Arra hold your
noise, Barney. What is there to laugh at?

DORAN. It got its fut into the little hweel--[he is overcome
afresh; and the rest collapse again].

AUNT JUDY. Ah, have some sense: you're like a parcel o childher.
Nora, hit him a thump on the back: he'll have a fit.

DORAN [with squeezed eyes, exsuflicate with cachinnation] Frens,
he sez to dhem outside Doolan's: I'm takin the gintleman that
pays the rint for a dhrive.

AUNT JUDY. Who did he mean be that?

DORAN. They call a pig that in England. That's their notion of a
joke.

AUNT JUDY. Musha God help them if they can joke no better than
that!

DORAN [with renewed symptoms]. Thin--

AUNT JUDY. Ah now don't be tellin it all over and settin yourself
off again, Barney.

NORA. You've told us three times, Mr Doran.

DORAN. Well but whin I think of it--!

AUNT JUDY. Then don't think of it, alanna.