Faoi Dheireadh Thiar (tuilleadh)
At Long Last (continued)

• (Tagann MAIRIN ar ais, tae i gcupán le gob as aici)
  MAIRIN: Anois, a Mheaig, ól as a ghob é seo is ní dhóirtfigh tú é.
  MEAIG: O, a Dheaidin, cén sort sine mhuire i seo? (Níl focal as MEAIG agus MAIRIN á tabhairt léi sa gcathaoir.)
  DARACH: Tá a fhios ag Mac Dé go bhfuil sí meallta leo acu is mé a cheapadh go gcuirfeadh sí na spoir i dtalamh as cosa i dtaca.
  COILMÍN: M’anam nach bhfuil aon mhaith ag tabhairt á ndúshlán istigh anseo, deirimse leat.
  (TAIMÍN tar éis éiri agus dul ar a ghlúine os comhair Dharach.)
  TAIMÍN: In Ainm an Athar is an Mhic is an Spioraid Naoimh, Aiméan.
  DARACH: Cén sórt frakes atá seo?

  (MAIRIN comes back, tea in a cup with a spout)
  MAIRIN: Now Meg, Drink this from its spout and you will not spill it.
  MEAIG: Oh, God, what kind of virgin´s nipple is this? (There’s no word from MEAIG and MAIRIN brings her to the chair.)
  DARACH: The Son of God knows she is attracted to them and I would think she would put the spurs in the ground on the spot.
  COILMÍN: My soul, there is no good in challenging them inside here, I say to you.
  (TAIMÍN after rising has gone on his knees before Darach.))
  TAIMÍN: In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.
  DARACH: What kind of freaks are these?

  gob	beak, point, spout
  doirt	pour, spoll, shed	v
  meall	Beguile, charm; entice; Delude, deceive; disappoint
  spor	spur	m gs npl spoir
  taca	prop, support	m
  dúshlán	Challenge, defiance	m

• TAIMÍN: An tú an sagart?
  DARACH: Sagart. Not feckin’ likely. Is túisce a chuirfi collar ar Bhin Laden, a dhearthair, ná ormsa. Ha ha ha!
  COILMÍN: Ni hé, a Taimin. Comharsan liomsa é Darach.
  TAIMÍN: Ab ea? Ní fhaca tú mo mhada ag corraí in aon áit?
  DARACH: Cén sort feckin’ mada?
  COILMÍN: Ba is múchadh agat air mar mhada. Caith tharat é. (Imionn TAIMIN anonn is anall ag feadail ar a mhada. Déanann Darach comhartha lena mhéar, ag fiafraí an bhfuil sifil ar Taimin) Tá sé ina show uilig ó thainig an Nollaig. Cén bhrí ach ní léir dhó a lámh.
  [d.l. 38]

  TAIMÍN: Are you the priest?
  DARACH: Priest. Not feckin’ likely. I would sooner put a collar on Bin Laden, my brother, than on me. Ha ha ha!
  COILMÍN: No Taimin. Darach was a neighbor of mine.
  TAIMÍN: Was he? You haven’t seen my dog ​​moving anywhere?
  DARACH: What sort of feckin dog?
  COILMÍN: You smothered him like a dog. Throw it away. (TAIMIN goes to and fro whistling for his dog. Darach makes a sign with his finger, asking if Taimin is a chatterer) It’s all been a show since Christmas came. What matter but he cannot see his hand.

  túisce	Sooner, rather; first
  corraí<	Movement; stir, excitement	m
  múchadh	Smothering, suffocation; Quenching, extinguishment; Obliteration, obscurement; asthma
  sifil	Silly talker, chatterer	f

• DARACH: Cén taobh arb as é? (Tógann DARACH naigín fuisce as a phóca agus ólann sé deoch as sul má chuireann sé ar ais aríst é. Dúil an deabhail ag COILMIN i ndeoch.)
  COILMÍN: Taimin Chualáin as na Clocha Scoilte.
  DARACH: Ab in é an chunt a bhíodh ina ghanger ag an gcouncil?
  COILMÍN: An fear ceannann céanna.
  DARACH: A bhuel, fuck me pink. Tá chuile dhuine ag dul ó aithne orm ó tháinig mé abhaile as Sasana.
  COILMÍN: Cén chaoi a raibh an áit thall?
  DARACH: Feckin’ mighty. a dhearthdir. Bhí mo chuid oibre fhéin agamsa _ hymac is cupla truck.
  COILMÍN: Ora, a dheabhail!
  

  DARACH: Which side is it from? (DARACH takes flask of whiskey from his pocket and He takes a drink before putting it back again. COILMIN has the devil’s desire for a drink)
  COILMÍN: Taimín Chualáin from the Split Stones.
  DARACH: Was he the c___ who used to be a gang foreman at the council?
  COILMÍN: The same man.
  DARACH: Well, fuck me pink. Everyone has been getting to know me since I came home from England.
  COILMÍN: How was the place over there?
  DARACH: Feckin’ mighty. brother. I had my own work – a few hymac trucks.
  COILMÍN: Oh, my goodness!

  naigín	noggin	m
  Dúil	Desire, fondness, liking, craving….
  scoilt	Split; Break apart, crack, cleave; part; divide
  cunta	Count	m

• DARACH: Feckin’ sure, a dhearthdir. Dara Lydon, Civil Engineering.
  COILMÍN: Fair play dhuit. Dalladh oibre agat?
  DARACH: Feckin’ flat out, brother: footings, drainage — you name it. Bhi muid ag obair all over the place. Rinne mé piosa mor oibre istigh i mBuckingham Palace.
  COILMÍN: Buckingham Palace?
  DARACH: Feckin’ sure, a mhac. B’éigin dhom line nua piopai a chur sios de bharr go mbiodh an sewerage ag blockail ann.
  COILMÍN: Ní hiontas ar bith é.
  DARACH: That’s for feckin’ sure.
  COILMÍN: Is ab í an bhanríon a d’iarr ort na piopaí a chur síos?
  [d.l. 39]
  

  DARACH: Feckin’ sure, brother. Dara Lydon, Civil Engineering.
  COILMÍN: Fair play to you. Plenty of work?
  DARACH: Feckin’ flat out, brother: footings, drainage — you name it. We were working all over the place. I did a lot of inside work in Buckingham Palace
  COILMÍN: Buckingham Palace?
  DARACH: Feckin’ sure, son.
  COILMÍN: It is no surprise at all.
  DARACH: That’s for feckin’ sure.
  COILMÍN:It was the queen who asked you to put down the pipes?

  dalladh	Blinding; dazzlement; Plenty, lashings	m

• DARACH: Not feckin’ likely, a dhearthair. George Potter an head kiddy ar cheann de na firms is mó i Sasana. “I need your help, Paddy,” a deir sé liomsa nuair a ghlaoigh sé. Cén bhrí ach bhí mé ar an tear an tseachtain chéanna. “What’s wrong, George?” a deirimse. “I need to get a line of pipes down at the Palace before Monday morning,” a deir sé. “I’m your man, a mhac,” a deirimse. “No messing, Paddy,” a deir sé. “You must be out of there before the Queen returns on Monday.” “No bother, a mhac,” a deirimse. “She’ll be able to sit on the throne again on Monday,” a deirimse. A, muise téaráil´[??] muid isteach ann, mé fhéin is cupla méit a casadh sa bpub liom. Maidin Dé Sathairn a thosaigh muid. Right through the night, a mhac. Trí a chlog tráthnóna Dé Domhnaigh a **leaindeáil** George is muid ag **craitheadh** gráinne síol féir sa trinse. “You’re a mighty man, Paddy,” a deir sé.
  

  DARACH: Not feckin’ likely, brother. George Potter, the head kiddy of one of the largest firms in England. “I need your help, Paddy,” he says to me when he called. What matter but I was on a tear that same week. “What’s wrong, George?” I say. “I need to get a line of pipes down at the Palace before Monday morning,” he says. “I’m your man, son,” I say. “No messing, Paddy,” he says. “You must be out of there before the Queen returns on Monday.” “No bother, son,” I say. “She’ll be able to sit on the throne again on Monday,” I say. Oh, we went[??] in there, myself and a couple of mates I met in the pub. We began on Saturday morning. Right through the night, son. Three o’clock on Sunday afternoon, George and we continued, while we were sowing grass seeds in the trench. “You’re a mighty man, Paddy,” he says.

  leaindeáil
  craitheadh
  gráinne	grain
  síol	seed	m
  féar		m gs féir
  trinse	trench	m
  lean	follow; continue, rdmain

• COILMIN: By Dad.

  DARACH: Paddy a thugadh sé i gconai orm. Tá mé a cheapadh nach raibh an chunt in ann Darach a rá ceart. “No bother, George,” a deirmse. Seacht míle punt a chuir sé sios i mo phóca.
  COILMIN: Seacht míle punt?
  DARACH: “Money no object here, Paddy,” a deir sé. Chaith muid trí seachtainí ar an tear ina dhiaidh.
  COILMIN: Is deablaí a tháinig tú abhaile má bhí an cineál sin airgíd le saothrú ann.
  DARACH: An bhean ar ndóigh. Ar an feckin’ warpath {d.l. 41] chuile lá. A cheapadh gur mó seans a bheadh ag na gasúir dhá ngabhfaidis ag an scoil in Éirinn. Deabhal isteach in éineacht leis an tseanlady bhí an bhitse sásta a dhul ansin nuair a tháinig muid abhaile nó go mb’éigin dhúinn teach a fháil ar cíos. Ní shásódh an deabhal feckin’ mná. Sciolladh ar maidin, meigeallach aríst tráthnóna. “Ara, fuck this crack,” a deirimse “tiocfaidh mé soir ag an bpub san áit a mbeidh ómós dhom.”
  

  COILMÍN: By Dad.
  DARACH: He always called me Paddy. I think the c*nt couldn’t say Darach correctly. “No bother, George,” I say. He put seven thousand pounds in my pocket.
  COILMÍN: Seven thousand pounds?
  DARACH: “Money no object here, Paddy,” he says. We spent three weeks on a tear after that.
  COILMÍN: The devil you came home if there was that kind of money to be earned
  DARACH: The woman of course. On the feckin’ warpath every day. To think that the children would get a better chance of having a school in Ireland. Devil in together with the old lady the bitch was happy to go there when we came home until we had to rent a house. The devil wouldn’t satisfy the feckin’ woman. Scolding in the morning, chattering again in the evening. “Ah, fuck this crack,” I say, “I will come east to the pub in the place where I will be honored.”

  saothrú	Earnings, wages	m
  in éineacht le	together, along, with; simultaneously with
  bitse = bitseach	bitch	f
  Sciolladh	Scolding	m
  meigeallach	whimpering; chattering; prattle, foolish talk.	f
  ómós	Homage; reverence, respect	m

• COILMÍN: Sin é an deasú air.
  DARACH: Feckin’ sure, a Choilmin. Tá suaimhneas ag mo dhá chluais ó stop sí ag caint liom.
  COILMÍN: A dhuine bhoicht, ná habair nach bhfuil sí ag labhairt leat.
  DARACH: ‘Bhfuil a fhios agat céard a rinne an striapach?
  COILMÍN: Céard?
  DARACH: An feckin’ suitcase a leagan taobh amuigh den doras nuair a tháinig mé abhaile én bpub. “Scuab anois,” a deir sí, “is ná taobhaigh an teach seo aríst nó go mbeidh an t-ól tugtha suas agat.” “Gabh suas ort fhéin, a chunt,” a deirimse, “b’fhearr liom ag pógadh pionta portair oíche ar
  bith den tseachtain ná ag breathnú ar do straois”
  COILMÍN: Sách ráite, m’anam.
  DARACH: Bhuail mé aniar ag an tseanlady. Is aici a bhí an fháilte romham, a dhearthair.
  COILMÍN: Ceard faoi na gasúir?
  DARACH: Ora, dhá raiteog a bhfuil gob orthu cosúil lé fhéin, “Give up the drink, Daddy, give up the [d.l. 42] drink.” Saigheadta aici fhéin ar ndóigh. “Ní oraibh atá an tart,” a deirimse, “ach ormsa.”

  COILMÍN: That’sthe arrangement for it.
  
  DARACH: Feckin’ sure, Coilmin. My ears have peace since she stopped talking to me.
  COILMÍN: Poor person, don’t say she’s not talking to you.
  DARACH: Do you know what the harlot did?
  COILMÍN: What?
  DARACH: The feckin’ suitcase laying outside the door when I got home from the pub. “Shove off,” she said,”and don’t approach this house again until you’ve given up drinking.” “Get over yourself, c*nt,” I say, “I’d rather be kissing a pint of porter any night of the week than watching your antics.”
  COILMÍN: Enough said, my soul.
  DARACH: I struck out at the old lady. She was the one who welcomed me, brother.
  COILMÍN: What about the kids?
  DARACH: O, two hussies with beaks like her own. “Give up the drink, Daddy, give up the drink.” Provoked by herself, of course. “It’s not you who are thirsty,” I say, “but me.”

  deasú	Arrangement, adjustment; dress, attire; dressing, preparation (of food)	m
  deasú = deisiú	Repairing, repair; Dressing down, scolding	m
  suaimhneas	Peace, tranquillity; quietness, rest	m
  striapach	harlot	f
  taobhaigh	approach	v
  straois	Grin, grimace	f
  sach	Full, sated, satisfied; Sufficiently, enough
  raiteog	Hussy, flirt	f
  saighid	incite, provoke
  tart	thirst	m

• COILMÍN: Á, a dheabhail, nior cheart dhuit titim amach le do chuid gasúir.
  DARACH: Nior thit mé amach leo; nach iad fhéin a thit amach liomsa. Tá said an-mhor leis an tseanlady. Thagadh Lily isteach aici chuile thráthnóna ó thosaigh an siúl ag imeacht uaithi. (Tagann Jackie ar ais ar thóir éadach glan i mála Mheaig.) Chuirfinn geall go bhfuil sí ag tabhairt a ndushlán.
  JACKIE: ‘Bhfuil aon éadach glan aici ach an méid seo?
  DARACH: Cén sort éadach?
  JACKIE: Underwear, nightdress …
  DARACH: Fuair tú amach é. Deabhal feckin’ pyjamas ná nightdress a bhí sa teach s’againne ó rugadh mé. Ha ha!

  COILMÍN: Oh, dear, you shouldn’t have fallen out with your children.
  DARACH: I didn’t fall out with them; they fell out with me. They are very fond of the old lady. Lily had come in every evening since her ability to walk began to leave her. (Jackie comes back searching for a clean cloth in Meig’s bag.) I’d place bet she’s giving their efforts challenge.
  JACKIE: Does she have any clean clothes other than these?
  DARACH: What sort of clothes?
  JACKIE: Underwear, nightdress …
  DARACH: You found it out. There have been no feckin’ pajamas or nightdresses in our house since I was born. Ha ha!

  tóir	Pursuit, chase; hunt, search; pursuing party	f
  méid	Amount, quantity, extent, degree, number	m

• JACKIE (ag imeacht): Níl aon chead a bheith ag eascainí istigh anseo.
  DARACH: A bhuel, fuck me pink, is gearr a bheas cead ag duine broim a ligean, ach Dia a bheith láidir
  COIlMÍN: A, a dheabhail, leag as is ná tarraing ort í.
  DARACH: Nar thé an cholera thairsti le gob a bheith ag imeacht uirthi. Tá cearta agamsa chomh maith léi.
  COIlMÍN: Ar ndóigh tá a fhios agamsa go bhfuil ach caithfidh tú go leor a scaoileadh tharat istigh anseo.
  DARACH: A leithidí sin anois atá ag déanamh bitch den tír. Feckin’ helicopter ag faire ort má lasann tú tom [d.l. 43] thíos sa ngarraí. An t-arm i do dhiaidh má théann túisce amach ag iascach cupla bradán. Bean an dól i do dhiaidh má bhaineann tú leoraí móna. Níl leaid in ann feck all a dhéanamh tír seo anois ach bualadh soir ag an bpub chuile lá. Níl aon suaimhneas le fáil thoir ansin fhéin anois: go gcaithfidh tú a dhul amach taobh amuigh den doras ag caitheamh gail.
  

  JACKIE: No swearing is permitted in here.
  DARACH: Well, fuck me pink, soon a person will have permission to let out a fart, but God is strong.
  COIlMÍN: Oh, devil, let it out and don’t hold back
  DARACH: The cholera didn’t go away from her with a beak. I have rights as well as she does.
  COIlMÍN: Of course I know that, but you have to let go of a lot of things in here.
  DARACH: The like of that now is turning the country into a bitch. A feckin’ helicopter is watching you if you set fire to a bush down in the garden. The army is after you if you go out fishing for a few salmon. The woman of the dole is after you if you remove a peat lorry. A lad cannot do feck all in this country but hit the pub east every day. There’s no peace to be found east there even now: that you have to go outside the door to let off steam.<br

  eascaine	Imprecation; swear-word, curse	f
  broim	fart	m, v
  tom	Bush, shrub; Clump, tuft, tussock	m
  dól	dole	m
  mona	Money; coins, coinage	m
  móin	peat, turf	f gs móna
  gail	steaming, boiling	f

• COIlMÍN: By Dad, is deacair a dhul ag sáraiocht ort.
  DARACH: Ní raibh tada den obair seo i Sasana, a dheartháir. Feckin’ dictators atá ag ritheacht ná tíre seo anois. Is gearr go mbeidh chuile phub i gConamara dúnta acu. (Tógann DARACH an naigín fuisce as a phóca arís agus ólann deoch) An ólfaidh tu streall dhe?
  COIlMÍN: Á muise, nár chaille mé choíchin thú ach san áit a bhfaighidh mé aríst thú! (Ag ól.)
  DARACH: Téifidh sé suas thú.
  COIlMÍN: Á muise, a dheabhail, níl aon cheo in ann líonán a chur leis an bputóg ach é.
  DARACH: Bain striuncán eile as.
  COIlMÍN: Up De Valera! Á, ní raibh sé ina Nollaig go dtí anois. (Cloistear MEAIG ag argóint.)
  MEAIG: Fág mo bhealach a deirim! Dharach! Dharach!
  DARACH: Dar fia, is é an chaoi a gcaithfear croimeasc agus púicin a chur uirthi seo.
  COIlMÍN: Á, a dheabhail tabhair triáil dhi. Tá an áit aduain ina súile fós.
  DARACH: Is dóigh gur fíor dhuit é.
  
  [d.l. 44]

  COIlMÍN: By Dad, It’s hard to argue witn you.
  DARACH: There was none of this work in England, brother. Feckin’ dictators are running this country now. Shortly every pub in Connemara will be closed. (DARACH takes the whisky flask out of his pocket again and drinks.) Will you drink a dash from it?
  COIlMÍN: Indeed, Oh my, may I never lose you but in the place I will find you again! (Drinking)
  DARACH: It will warm you up.
  COIlMÍN: Indeed, the devil, nothing can fill the gut but this.
  DARACH: Take another splash.
  COIlMÍN: Up De Valera! Ah, It wasn’t Christmas until now. (MEAIG is heard arguing.)
  MEAIG: Get out of my way, I say! Darach! Darach
  DARACH: By heaven, it is the way a spancel and blinkers are put on her.
  COIlMÍN: Ah, the devil give it a try. The strange place is still in her eyes.
  DARACH: It seems true for you.

  sáraíocht	(Act of) contending, disputing; disputation, argument	f
  streall = steall	Splash; Poured-out quantity, dash; Gush, flow; spell
  croimeasc = cornasc	Horn-and-leg spancel (noosed rope used to hobble an animal)	m
  púicín	Blind over eyes, mask; Blinkers
  aduain	Strange, unfamiliar; apart

• COIlMÍN: Níl gair ag hotel ar bith ar an áit seo marach duine a bheith sáinnithe istigh ann.
  DARACH: Is fearr é ná focain Loughrea ar aon chaoi.
  COIlMÍN: Ó, díleá ar a bhfuil thoir ann. Níl aon nádúr ceart ach sa rúta a chleacht duine.
  DARACH: Tá sé ráite anois agat. (Tagann MAIRIN agus JACKIE ar ais le Meaig gcathaoir rothai.)
  MAIRÍN: Anois, a Mheaig. Tá tú i do chailín óg aríst.
  MEAIG: Cail Darach? ‘Dharach?
  DARACH: Ó, a bhitch go deo, tá tú i do film star, a Mhama. Caithfidh sé gurb é an powerhose a thug said do t’éadan[??].
  MAIRÍN: Abair oíche mhaith léi anois, a Dharach. Tá sé in am baile.
  
  MEAIG: Tá agus thar am. (Ag iarraidh éiri.) Gabh i leith uait, a mhaicín, nó beidh sé ina horo diggidy.
  

  COIlMÍN: This place is nowhere near a hotel unless a person is trapped inside.
  DARACH: It is better than f–ing Loughrea [hotel and spa near Galway] in any case.
  COIlMÍN: Oh, digestion of what is east[??]. There is no true nature except in the root a person has practiced.
  DARACH: You’ve said it now. (MAIRIN and JACKIE come back with Meaig in a wheelchair.)
  MAIRÍN: Now, Meag. You’re a young girl again.
  
  MEAIG: Where is Darach? Darach?
  DARACH: Oh, always a bitch. You are a film star, Mama. It must be the powerhose they gave your face
  MAIRÍN: Say good night to her now, Darach. It’s time to go home.
  
  MEAIG: Yes and past time. (Trying to get up.) Come hither you[??], little son, or it will be a horo diggidy. [???]

  .

  sáinnigh	Corner, trap, put in a fix	v
  díleá	dissolution; digestion	m
  rúta	root; stump, stock; stock, breed; rout	m
  cleacht	Perform habitually; be, become, accustomed to	v
  cail = cá bhfuil
  go deo	for ever, always

• MAIRÍN: Go réidh anois, a Mheaig. Beidh sé isteach aríst amáireach le thú a fheiceáil.
  
  MEAIG: Ó, ‘choirseacan Chríost orainn! Ná himigh do m’uireasa, a Dharach.
  DARACH: Gheobhaidh tú aire mhaith anseo, a Mhama.
  MEAIG: Bhí mé ag fail aire na huibhe mar a bhí mé. Lily. where are you a leainin?
  MAIRÍN: Teastaíonn scíth uait, a Mheaig. Abair oíche mhaith le Darach anois.
  
  MEAIG: (ag breith greim laimhe air): Á, a mhac, ná tréig do mháthair ar an oíche bheannaithe atá ann.
  DARACH: (go goilliúinach): Ach is ar mhaithe leat atá mé, a Mhama. [d.l. 45]
  

  MAIRÍN: Take it easy, Meaig. He’ll be back tomorrow to see you.
  
  MEAIG: O, ??? Christ on us. Don’t leave me, Darach.
  DARACH: You will get good care here, Mama.
  MEAIG: I was taking[??] care of the egg as I was. Lily, where are you, child.
  MAIRÍN: You need a rest, Meaig. Say good night to Darach now.
  
  MEAIG: (grabbing his hand) Ah, son, do not abandon your mother on this blessed night.
  DARACH: (hurtfully) But for your sake I am here, Mama.

  uireasa	Lack, want, absence, deficiency
  ubh	egg	f gs uibhe, pl uibheacha
  leanbh	child	m
  scíth	tirednss, fatigue; rest
  tréig	Abandon, forsake
  breith	birth,…, seizing,…, judgement	f
  goilliúnach	Painful, distressing, hurtful to feelings; Easily hurt, sensitive.

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