Act I

At the door of an Irish country house in a park. Fine, summer
weather; the summer of 1916. The porch, painted white, projects
into the drive: but the door is at the side and the front has a
window. The porch faces east: and the door is in the north side
of it. On the south side is a tree in which a thrush is singing.
Under the window is a garden seat with an iron chair at each end
of it.

The last four bars of God Save the King are heard in the
distance, followed by three cheers. Then the band strikes up It's
a Long Way to Tipperary and recedes until it is out of hearing.

Private O'Flaherty V.C. comes wearily southward along the drive,
and falls exhausted into the garden seat. The thrush utters a
note of alarm and flies away. The tramp of a horse is heard.

**

A GENTLEMAN'S VOICE. Tim! Hi! Tim! [He is heard dismounting.]

A LABORER'S VOICE. Yes, your honor.

THE GENTLEMAN'S VOICE. Take this horse to the stables, will you?

A LABORER'S VOICE. Right, your honor. Yup there. Gwan now. Gwan.
[The horse is led away.]

General Sir Pearce Madigan, an elderly baronet in khaki, beaming
with enthusiasm, arrives. O'Flaherty rises and stands at
attention.

SIR PEARCE. No, no, O'Flaherty: none of that now. You're off
duty. Remember that though I am a general of forty years service,
that little Cross of yours gives you a higher rank in the roll of
glory than I can pretend to.

O'FLAHERTY [relaxing]. I'm thankful to you, Sir Pearce; but I
wouldn't have anyone think that the baronet of my native place
would let a common soldier like me sit down in his presence
without leave.

SIR PEARCE. Well, you're not a common soldier, O'Flaherty: you're
a very uncommon one; and I'm proud to have you for my guest here
today.

O'FLAHERTY. Sure I know, sir. You have to put up with a lot from
the like of me for the sake of the recruiting. All the quality
shakes hands with me and says they're proud to know me, just the
way the king said when he pinned the Cross on me. And it's as
true as I'm standing here, sir, the queen said to me: "I hear you
were born on the estate of General Madigan," she says; "and the
General himself tells me you were always a fine young fellow."
"Bedad, Mam," I says to her, "if the General knew all the rabbits
I snared on him, and all the salmon I snatched on him, and all
the cows I milked on him, he'd think me the finest ornament for
the county jail he ever sent there for poaching."

SIR PEARCE [Laughing]. You're welcome to them all, my lad. Come
[he makes him sit down again on the garden seat]! sit down and
enjoy your holiday [he sits down on one of the iron chairs; the
one at the