The Quiet Man Page #2

for 600 pounds.

- Done!

- No, you cant. 610!

As I remember, you said 700 pounds.

See here, little man... 710!

- How about an even thousand?

- A thousand and...

And...and Ill be saying good day to you,

Mrs Tillane, and all here but one.

And Ive got you down in my book.

My dad remembers his dad well.

Mike Thornton.

He had shoulders on him like an ox.

I saw him meself this mornin. A tall,

handsome man, as I was passin that chapel.

If youd pass the pub as fast as you pass

the chapel, youd be better off, little squint.

Just look at them!

Eating me out of house and home.

Get back to the fields! Theres work to be done.

Isnt it a bit early in the day

for the bottle...even for you?

Feeney, get your book out.

Set down the name, the one Sean Thornton.

Oh, look at me clean floor! You dirty little...

- Shut your gob.

- Aw, shut you, little man! Here.

Clean it up yourself,

or there will be no dinner tonight!

There now! Look now,

you mustnt mind himself this day.

Thats all the work youre good for,

you little tattletail.

- Feeney, have you written the name I gave you?

- I have.

Well, strike a line through it.

Thats for him. Sean Thornton...

So... He bought White O Mornin

in spite of you.

Good for widow Tillane.

Pay no attention to her at all! Take no notice.

You do, and therell be a fine wake

in this house tonight.

After all, hes got more right to that land

than you have!

Hell regret it to his dying day,

if ever he lives that long.

- Will it be all right if I leave my bags in here?

- I imagine theyll be safe enough.

If you see a little guy, Michaleen Flynn,

tell him Im waiting for him in the bar.

- Itll be a pleasure, especially for Michaleen.

- Thanks.

Is there anything you should like now, Yank?

If I think of anything, Ill let you know.

(BAR IS QUIET)

Evening.

Pleasant night.

- Ill try one of those black beers.

- Oh, the porter. Yes, sir.

Sir, will you join me? Matter of fact,

Id like to buy everybody a drink.

I do not believe I heard your name, tall man.

Thornton. Sean Thornton.

And... your fathers name?

Mike. Michael Thornton.

He used to live here, by the Mornin.

I just bought the place back.

Thats why Im here.

Then your grandfather

would be Ol Sean Thornton.

- Right.

- Bless his memory.

So its himself youre named after.

Well, now. That being the case, it is

a pleasant evening and we will have a drink.

There was a wild colonial boy

#Jack Duggan was his name

# He was born and bred in Ireland

# In a town called Castlemaine

- Good evening, Father.

- Is the rest of the committee here?

- Theyre waiting.

- Sorry were late.

- The fishing was bad, was it?

- Fine lot of time we had for that!

- Oh, Michaleen...

- Commandant Forbes.

You can forget about the Commandant.

Were at peace now.

Sure, but I havent given up hope.

- Your Yankee friend is waitin in the bar.

- Oh, hes here already...

Wait a minute. Who is he anyway?

Hes a nice, quiet, peacelovin man

come home to Ireland to forget his troubles.

- Troubles?

- Yes, hes a millionaire like all the Yanks.

But he is eccentric. Wait till I show you.

- What is it?

- A bag to sleep in. A sleeper bag they call it.

Im tellin you. The sleeper bag...

Wait till I show you how it operates.

- Where does it open?

- Hurry up, I have an important appointment.

- Well, open it up!

- Here.

# At the early age of sixteen years

# He left his native home

# And to Australias sunny shores

# He was inclined to roam

# He robbed a wealthy squireen

# All arms he did destroy

# A terror to Australia was

# This wild colonial boy

Sean Thornton, the men of Inisfree

bid you welcome home.

Thank you.

And the men of Inisfree

bid you welcome home.

- Whats wrong with that little speech?

- Oh, youd be knowin what.

Im a man from Inisfree, and the best man.

And I bid no welcome to a man fool enough

to pay 1000 pounds for a bit of land

that isnt worth 200!

True for you, squire.

(MAN):
Didnt I hear of someone

named Danaher bid 810?

Get your book out.

Put his name down: Dermot Fahy.

F-A-H-Y. No es, Squireen Danaher.

If you were half the man you think you are,

you wouldnt begrudge a Thornton

the right to his birthplace.

- What right has he to a land hes never worked?

- Its Thornton land, isnt it?

- Youve too much of your own as it is.

- Quiet, if you please.

Parliamentary procedure.

Squire Danaher has the floor.

If I had the floor...

- ...Id hit that big ape with it.

- Hold on.

I dont blame Mr Danaher for gettin on his ear.

Whos on his ear? Why, you and ten like you

couldnt put a Danaher on his ear.

- Its just a way of speaking...

- Mind your ways, then.

The point is, its already done. I own

the property now, and since were neighbours...

Neighbours? Neighbours...

Never!

And if I so much as catch you putting

one foot on my property, I...I...

And, oh, another thing.

You keep away from my sister Mary Kate.

Shes not for the likes of you.

Where I come from, we dont talk

about our womenfolk in saloons.

You sort of make a habit of it.

This morning it was widow Tillane.

- Whats that?

- Thats true. Its ashamed you should be.

Hey, look, Im not accusing Mary Kate.

Its him.

Why, this very moment,

let him deny it if he can.

At the back of the chapel,

he took liberties that he shouldnt have.

- I said good morning to her.

- Good morning?

- It was good night you had on your mind.

- Thats a lie.

(MUSIC STOPS)

- Thats a what?

- I said thats a lie.

Thats a word I take from no man!

Put up your fists.

- Im not gonna fight you.

- But Im gonna...

Thank you.

(FATHER):
Danaher!

Whats the matter with you?

(FORBES):
Hes drunk!

Feeney, take him home, will you.

(FEENEY):
Dont soil your knuckles on the man.

- Come on, what do you say?

- Never.

Take the mans hand, or Ill read your name

on a mass on Sunday.

- (FEENEY):
Take it.

- Id join the Church of Ireland first.

As if theyd have you.

Shake his hand like I tell you.

- (FEENEY):
Come on, come on.

- Shake hands?

Its a good grip you have.

I always hated a flappy handshake myself.

Father Paul!

Michaleen, introduce me to this quiet,

peacelovin man of yours.

I have a strange notion

were going to be friends, Yank.

Give me a minute.

Just let some blood run back into this.

Sean Thornton... His grandfather,

a grand man he was, was hung in Australia.

I could tell you blood-curdlin stories about him,

but me throat...

(SEAN):
All right, come on.

# He was born and bred in Ireland

# In a town called Castlemaine

# He was his fathers only son

# His mothers pride and joy

# And dearly did his parents love

# This wild colonial boy

Are you sure you wont change your mind,

and come around home with me?

Dont worry about it.

Ive got my sleeping bag, havent I.

Well, its a nice, soft night.

So, I think Illjoin my comrades,

and talk a little treason.

- Good night, Sean.

- Good night, Michaleen.

(MICHALEEN):
God bless you.

(SEAN YELLS)

(MARY KATE SCREAMS)

So bold one you are.

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